There was no one in the lobby. No workers, no patients, no one. The room was perfectly square, harsh florescent lighting blaring white light against white walls. There was an uncomfortable looking chair facing a wall to his left. On the wall was a little red circle and a speaker. Across the room was a doorway that led to a white hallway that went straight out to a white door. On the right-side wall of the lobby was nothing.

Mr. Mead obediently walked over to the red circle. The center of it lit up and the the small speck of light moved. It was obvious to Mr. Mead that this object was an electronic eye. These contraptions had always bothered him, eyes are the gateway to the soul. To call this thing an eye was blasphemy.

"Hello sir. Please take a seat." Said the eye. He did. "Name." Not a question.

"Leonard Mead."

"Occupation."

"If you link up with the police cruiser it will give you all this information." The Machine gave no response, just a little whirring noise. "Writer. No occupation."

Television was the only thing people used to entertain themselves any more. No one bought magazines or books or-

"Married."

"No."

"Why are here."

"It has been speculated that I have regressive tendencies and my mental state is thusly at risk."

There was a sharp beep and the red light went out. With a soft whooshing noise the white door opened. Mr. Mead walked through it.

x

"2,4,8,16,32,64,128,256,512,1024,2048,4096,8192,16384,32-" Squee was counting exponentially by twos. It passed the time.

"'ey kid! I' looks like 'ou migh' be getting' a new buddy tuh talk wih at O.D.T." One of the guards said before pelting him in the head with a sandwich. The sandwich was wrapped in plastic wrap. Squee was wrapped in a straight jacket. It took him three days to learn how to eat once he'd gotten to this horrible place.

"Did you here that Shmee? Maybe this one will be like me, maybe he won't be crazy. Yeah I know He'll probably be crazy. Because it's hard to light people on fire when your wearing a straight jacket."

x

"Hello Mr. Mead! And welcome to my institute! My name is Wesley, how are you feeling." He said that last part a little to slow, a lot to condescending. At least he was human.

"I'm feeling just fine thank you, but please know that I'm not in any way insane."

'Wesley pulled out a tape recorder and mumbled into it just loud enough to be heard "Patient #112279 has delusions of sanity and exhibits classic symptoms of denial."

"I'm not in denial. I was out for a walk and just for that got labeled as passive aggressive."

"No one ever said you were passive aggressive. They merely said you have regressive tendencies." He then said to the tape recorder "#112279 Possibly passive aggressive."

Mr. Mead started to argue but thought better of it.

"So Mr. Mead- can I call you Leonard?"

"No."

"How about Lenny?'

"No."

"Okay. So, Lenny between friends, why were you walking?"

Bastard "I was walking, because unlike the rest of the world that seems to be completely fine wasting there mind watching little flicking lights on a screen, I would rather get fresh air and think."

"#112279 shows signs of a superiority complex. Please Lenny advance to the next room.

A/N I imagine the Wesley's voice to sound Warden from Superjail!. Sorry about the 4 month wait on the update. I honestly forgot this story existed. I was on my stats page and I was like whats "not crazy"?So I updated hope you like it.