Feyd had spent most of his time locked in the cell yelling about random things. He told Marcus the story about when he was young and threw a desk at one of his foster siblings, about the time he got so nervous about counting in front of the class in kindergarten that he had pissed himself, about the time he found a cat and took it home with him, but how it got hit by a car. He talked about his favorite bands, even demonstrating his non-existent singing skills to Marcus to make sure that he knew what bands he was talking about. He talked about why purple was his favorite color, and how people who said black was their favorite color were all just unimaginative douche nozzles. He discussed all of his favorite foods, went into graphic detail of his favorite sexual encounters, and even found time to explain to Marcus the virtues of being a fire eater, though Feyd would admit he cheated and didn't know how a normal person would have done it.

“YOU KNOW WHAT'S GREAT ABOUT ALL THIS? I KNOW YOU'RE TOO SCARED ABOUT WHAT I'LL DO IF YOU SHUT YOUR LITTLE WALL AND DON'T KEEP AN EYE ON ME, SO YOU HAVE TO PUT UP WITH THIS.”

Tin man tried to be passive, and Feyd couldn't see his face, but he could tell from his body language that he was not happy. Every time Feyd opened his mouth, he could see tin man's shoulders tighten, and a vein would pop out of his neck.

“I'M REALLY ENJOYING OUR TIME TOGETHER, YA KNOW? I FEEL LIKE WE'VE REALLY BEEN BONDING!”