The man with the beard, who keeps staring at me with increasing hunger in his icy gaze, is one of them.
God, please… let someone outbid him.
I don’t know this man. I don’t recognize him from anywhere. And yet I do? In a very weird, uncomfortable way.
And while it’s clear that every person in this room is sick as f**k and should go to prison for the rest of their miserable lives, not everyone seems to be sadistic. The elderly woman is being doted upon by who must be her current slaves, a man and a woman. They keep feeding her bites of food and whispering things in her ear. The man from Belarus is laughing and chatting with his colleagues while writing out a check for a waiting attendant. I don’t see any slaves with him, but I also don’t feel like he’s the worst person in the world to be
