A committed, whispery scene. Dr. Marx controls all. You’re not going home until I sign your papers. Or I don’t I can do whatever I want. Whatever you need. I can keep you in a padded room, sedated, in restraints. I can release you. Or I can give you release. Which is it going to be? Want me to touch it? That means you’ll wake up in my ward tomorrow. Poor boy. Poor, poor, disturbed boy.
Category: JOI