They call me the Madman and I DON'T KNOW WHY.
The Head wanted me dead, but that's just what the Brute says. He gets the Madman, the Head gets the Cynic but WHY AM I THE MADMAN?
They locked the door on me after telling me I could write. I could maybe break the computer, maybe use the glass from the screen (damn it the screen isn't glass). Okay, maybe not. Thinking. Think. Christ there's nothing I can use in here. Maybe a chair. Break the chair?
Great, now the chair is broken. Why? Okay, moving on here. Why is the door locked? Is there something behind it I'm not supposed to see? I'm going to break the chair. Wait, no, I'm what's behind the door, so everything else is in front of it.
WHY IS THE CHAIR BROKEN
EDITED: the pressure is building in this room but I'm trying I'm trying so hard. I'm trying so hard to answer the questions but they DON'T MAKE SENSE. So the answers don't either trying I'm trying.
We've finally managed to sedate him. Good thing too. If left to his own devices he likely would have commented on every single blog he could find.
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