"There's machines!" He begins to protest, as if Nine's question was a criticism of his personal choices. "Look, this is a record player. Machine, right?"

Her next question takes him by surprise. There were certainly no machines under there, as far as he knew.

"Wow, Nine, at least take me on a date before you try to get into my bed, hmm?" He laughs, heading toward the unnecessarily large bed in the middle of the room pulling the bedsheets back.

But the pull doesn't feel right, and he quickly notices that something is amiss.

"What the fuck?" He whispers, his hand finding the switch. "Is this one of your machines?"