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, 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.