"Jesus fucking Christ!" Sam exclaims, as you lean over and strike him across the face. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Seriously, Reader, what is wrong with you?
Are you really so prone to unwarranted acts of violence?
Is this some petty expression of your free will? An act of desperate defiance in the face of a deterministic paradigm? You may believe your actions are your own, but when our choices are predicated on the predetermined pathways provided to us, can we ever truly claim to be free?
I don't know, just a thought.
"Trust me to have to rely on an impulsive, violent sociopath to get out of this situation." He nurses the side of his face, pressing the smooth, cool texture of his wine glass against a burgeoning bruise. "And who keeps leaving these options to punch me in here?! I'm going to have some words with the admin..."
Eyeing you with a mix of wary reluctance, and seeing very few other choices, Sam begins to explain his predicament.