A crooked smile creeps across Iris' face as she sits on the edge of the mattress, staring at the powered-off television in front of her with an expression that screamed with equal amounts of intensity, "I have no idea where I am", and "I don't care to know where I am". Her dry lips crack as she pulls the corners of her mouth further from each other, drawing blood from the center of her bottom lip. She licks her lips, blinking twice. Her eyes still fixed on the gray screen in front of her. She detects movement from out the corner of her eye, to which she raises one finger, pointing it to the side of her, somewhere roughly in the vicinity of where the source of the movement was.

"This is the best part," she whispers, shooting a glance backwards for half a second before returning her eyes to the screen. She watches this nothingness with unblinking focus, soundlessly moving her mouth, as if mimicking whatever it was she and only she could see. Then she whips her head around, wide smile on her face, giggling.

"Did you catch it?"

She stares, wide-eyed at the source of the the movement; a tall, lanky 20 something male, who looks back at her visibly anxious, twiddling his thumbs, tapping his feet.

"The TV isn't on."

He recoils, expecting to be hit or worse for pointing that out, however as seconds pass without anything happening, he relaxes his muscles and turns his head back to see Iris still seated, still staring at him, mouth agape as if the revelation left her dumbfounded. She taps one finger against her bottom lip and takes a quick look at the TV.

"You're right."

She giggles, shaking her head.

"Oh, wow, this is embarrassing. Whew! I thought I was over that. When I was little, my mom didn't like me watching too much TV. Said I already had an active imagination, didn't want me seeing anything too treh-muh-tiz-ing and driving myself nuts with nightmares for weeks after. Oh, listen to me talk! Rattling off my life story to a perfect stranger-- no, not stranger. I know you. I've heard that voice somewhere now let me see who are you it's on the tip of my tongue... Jerry! No no not Jerry. Jerry is short and fat and bald and he smells like onions plus I haven't seen Jerry since I got out of that awful hospital. Joseph! That's right, Joseph from Talent Relations. Come to check up on me?"

He opens his mouth, but she interrupts him by pushing herself off the bed and taking a deep breath.

"Sorry. Sometimes forget to breathe when I talk. Been told I'm a bit of a motormouth when I really get going. I hope that isn't a problem."

"No, it's uh, it's fine."

A silence hangs over the two for a few brief moments, before Iris sinks back into the mattress and slaps a spot beside her. "Well, make yourself at home! Or at hotel, but that doesn't sound as good. Not at all."

He shakes his head. "No thank you, I'm fine standing."

"Oh come on, I don't bite! Well, I probably won't.

...Not funny? Not funny. Fair enough, I'm sure you know by now about the ser-cuhm-stan-ses surrounding how I left Spring Harbor and you're a little tense around me. I get it. I probably would be the same were I in your shoes. But I'm not in your shoes and I can say with absolute certainty that I will not bite you should you sit next to me. Oh, heavens me I am not making a very good case for myself, am I? Mom always said," she clears her throat and enters her falsetto "Iris sometimes you have to learn when to talk and when to just listen."

She clamps her mouth shut for a second, opening it once more as Joseph opens his, cutting him off.

"I'm lying. She never actually said that though sometimes I have this habit of going on and on and on and on and I'm doing that right now aren't I? Sorry I'm still adjusting to actual people who are actually here wait you're actually here aren't you? I'm not just imagining you? Sorry for asking such a silly question but it has happened before but of course you know this because 'hahaha crazy person has conversations with people who aren't there' and because I went and asked the question and why else would I ask the question if it isn't because I regularly talk to people who aren't even there why am I still talking can I please stop talking can I please stop--"

SMACK!

She slaps herself hard across the face with enough force to almost knock her off the bed entirely. Another deep breath later, she slowly turns her head back to Joseph and nods.

"I'm, real..." he trails off, brows furrowing at the woman in front of him. He leans backwards, towards the door for half a second before stepping forward. He drops to one knee and waves one hand in front of him because it appears she's staring right through him. "Hello?"

"Hi! Just wanted to make sure you were paying attention. Not the worst thing I've done to that effect, see this one time I was convinced my sike-eye-a-trist or whatever he was wasn't listening to I started going on about being a cannibal and a serial killer. Boy you should have seen the look on his face it was priceless! Oh, goodness me I keep meaning to ask but I keep getting sidetracked; why are you here? I don't mean to be rude but I'm curious. What would drive the XWF to send someone to an employees hotel room? It's because of what happened at Spring Harbor isn't it? Do you guys go around whenever someone employed by you shows signs of dangerous mental instability? Must be a pretty strenuous job considering I think just about everyone on the XWF roster is some kind of violently dysfunctional individual if you don't mind me saying though why would you be offended you aren't on the XWF's roster or are you? Are you Peter Gilmour and is this a disguise? Wait no, you're too skinny to be Peter. Fontanna? I know who you are... stay back! I'm I'm I'm I'm armed! See?!"

She flops backwards, rolling until she winds up on her knees and holds both of her arms out.

"See! Armed! Two of 'em so don't you even think of trying anything funny you mother--"

"I'm not Fontanna and I'm not Peter Gilmour."

"Oh, okay alright of course how silly of me to-- you're sick of me saying that aren't you? I've said it like a million and a half times by now it has to be at least a little annoying. Like at first it was an endearing little quirk but now it's just 'oh god when will she stop'. I get that a lot."

"I'm just here to see if you're fit to compete on Wednesday."

"Oh! So this is a test of sorts. Not a physical one but a mental one and... I'm not passing am I?"

"Not really."

"Wait, you can't not let me fight. Isn't that like a rule or something? Like not a rule that makes sense or anything but it's a rule like the only person who can really say they're crazy and unfit to do their job are therefore sane enough to realize that they're crazy and therefore they're sane and not crazy and are therefore required to continue doing their job even though only crazy people do the job in the first place?"

...


...


...

"That didn't make a lick of sense, did it?"

He shakes his head.

"I also think that's Catch-22."

"Haha! I totally got you!"

"What?"

"I had my suspicions from the start about you, 'Joseph from Talent Relations' but I had no real way to prove it, because it sounds like a crazy conspiracy theory but that clinches it. You're Joseph Heller. There's no such thing as XWF Talent Relations, it's all a myth to cover up the fact that you faked your own death and you're now here to gloat about your books! I got you! I do say, if you wanted to disguise yourself better, you really shouldn't have kept the same first name, it was like a dead giveaway."

Joseph blinks.

He blinks again.

And again.

"You are bat shit insane. Which, as much as it pains me to say this, makes you mentally competent to compete."

"Is this another test? Do you have a secret camera? Or or or better yet, have you had the secret camera in this room the whole time? Have you been spying on me, Mr. Heller? I've always kind of wanted to be spied on by a dead-but-not-really author. Actually no, that thought's never even crossed my mind but it has now and it's a lot less creepy in my head than it is in probably anyone else's head and I'm digging myself into a deeper hole aren't I?"

"Are you actively trying to see just how crazy you can be and still be allowed to compete?"

She giggles, an anxious expression on her face.

"Yeah, sure, let's go with that."

"I'm going to go now, and hopefully I'll never be in the same room as you ever again, but before I go I feel compelled to ask if you're aware that both of your opponents have released promos."

"Oh, they have, have they?"