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Continue rattling your cage.
Desperate for some attention, you brazenly disregard the warning and slam your fist against the bars. Ouchie! Your manicure!You hear the hasty clip-clop of room service approaching. Finally, some attention!
Somewhere in the distant dark, a woman begins to sob. Another new arrival, you wonder? God, how you loathe that sound. You hate her immediately. Sobbing? How uncouth! That crying cur has no place among people of such importance as yourself!
Ahh, there's the servant now. What an ugly and corpulent man. You'll have to get a replacement. "Servant, I'm hungry, and it's altogether too dark in here! And I need a manicure!"
The servant pulls out a nightstick and shoves it into your stomach. You keel over, in shock. You hear a voice as if in a dream, "That's just a warning! Make any more noise and you'll really learn what pain is like!"
You've never been hit before. Your abdomen is clenched in pain, and for some reason, you cannot breathe. You cannot breathe! You are absolutely certain that you are about to die.
Close your eyes and wait for death.
Scream!