Merton had a whole little speech worked out to try and get out of this. About how he was sorry to hear the man had died, but the lack of torture sessions dressed up as training, and not being yelled at or degraded every day until he stress cried or had a panic attack was actually raising his productivity. Strange but true. So he would be fine, thank you.

But he'd barely peeked his head in the door when she hit him with that, and he immediately lets out a nervous laugh. Closing the door behind him, he went for leaning against it as opposed to sitting. Looking like a cornered animal, who might try and make a break for it if she looked away from him for too long.

"Wha-what makes you think my father's restrictive?" He couldn't help glancing at what he assumed was his medical file. The dog chewing on it, felt oddly appropriate.

"Is this is about how I called Planker 'Dad' that one time? Because that was totally just a joke." A "joke" that came in the middle of one of his panic attacks, and that nobody laughed at. Except maybe Planker.