Lizzie Wyath: So, this will be test eight of the persuasion formula. Our subject here... what'd you say your name was again?
Test subject: Fuck you, Lizzie. When my crew finds out about this, they're going to wear your skin.
Lizzie Wyath: Okay, we're just going to call you Eight. Eight, would you please stop talking?
Test subject: Go to hell.
Lizzie Wyath: As you can see, Eight is currently not receptive to my suggestions. Now, deploying the formula.
Test subject: Uh, what, what the... hey.
Lizzie Wyath: Hey yourself. Eight, how do you feel right now?
Test subject: Fine. Good, I guess.
Lizzie Wyath: Excellent. Now, Eight, I'm going to untie your arm.
Test subject: Okay.
Lizzie Wyath: Now Eight, I want you to hit yourself.
Test subject: Hit myself?
Lizzie Wyath: Please.
Test subject: *striking sound* Ah!
Lizzie Wyath: Again, please. Harder this time.
Test subject: *louder striking sound* Ergh!
Lizzie Wyath: That's perfect. Thank you, Eight. You can stop now.
Test subject: Thank you.
Lizzie Wyath: You're welcome. Eight, I'm going to untie you. Now, if you wouldn't mind-- Eight! What're you--
Test subject: Are you an idiot? Did you really think that shit would work? I'm going to eat your-- *gunshot* ugh!
Lizzie Wyath: Thank you, William. I-I'm going to need a minute, before you bring in number nine.
