Congratulations on Shutting Down All the Trash Compactors on the Detention Level!

Turns out screaming is a perfectly acceptable way to solve some problems, especially when those problems involve communicating with a somewhat retarded young man obsessed with Star Wars.

Barry will be having trouble shutting down the compactor slowly cubing the car you’re trapped in, despite being right next to the fucking lever that turns it off. Barry has always been a little special, but he’s trustworthy and reliable which is why you picked him for this operation. But he’s kind of slow, and he panics easily, which is why it’s not a good thing that he’s trapped in a control room alone, surrounded by corpses, while you shout at him.

“Fucking shut it down, Barry!” you’ll yell. Michelle will be hyperventilating next to you. From the smell she’ll have already pissed herself, which you’d give her shit about later if you, too, weren’t almost positive that you were going to die horribly in a few seconds.

“How!” he’ll yell back, staring at the giant lever that controls the walls slowly forcing metal towards your bodies.

“The fucking lever!” you’ll shout at him, which will just make him more confused since he thinks of the lever as more of a switch. He’ll shrug at you, looking confused.

Michelle will grab your hand, her breath slowing down for a moment. “Star,” she’ll wheeze. “Wars.” Your eyes will light up with recognition and you’ll turn towards Barry, smiling.

“Threepee-oh!” you’ll yell. Barry will immediately stiffen and arrange his hands like he’s doing The Robot. He’ll look at you attentively, awaiting orders. “Shut down all the trash compactors on the detention level!”

Barry will nod at you, then turn and stiffly pull the lever down, stalling out the motor on the compactor and moving the slowly closing metal walls back out away from you. You and Michelle will begin hooting and howling, pushing the ceiling of the car and laughing uncontrollably. Barry will just stand there in the control room, watching the two you and smiling at himself, satisfied that he saved the day.

You’ll kiss Michelle, so happy that the piss smell won’t even register for you. Pulling your knife out from your pocket, shifting your weight so that you can get it free, you’ll begin the awkward process of cutting your way out of the seatbelts that had previously bound you into the car. Laughing and still trembling with adrenaline you’ll mutter at Michelle without looking at her.

“God I am so glad his stepfather used to burn him until he acted like a robot.”

Congratulations on Shutting Down All the Trash Compactors on the Detention Level!