She smiled and nodded her approval.
“Is this bad?” he asked, as he carefully yanked free each of his bitten-down fingernails with the dimestore needle-nosed pliers he wielded.
“Of course.” she said, her smile growing wider.
“Is this bad?” he asked as he proceeded to whittle away at the bones inside his forearm with a cheese grater he had specifically adapted for that very purpose.
She laughed like running water, and turned, and left the room.
And was gone.
He never saw her again.