Jiggs: Grant, let me give you some advice. Don't think about it. You think about it, you'll crack up like Phillips there. Listen to him. Phillips! Shut your face! A month ago he was a human being. Now what is he? An animal, a thing. Why? Because he couldn't stop thinking about it.
Adam: I know it. It's just different with me.
Jiggs: You mean you want to die?
Jiggs: Well, it ain't different with you, so don't kid yourself. Sometimes I wonder, too, what it's gonna be like.
Adam: I'll tell you what it's like. You walk out of your cell, pass two grey doors, seventy-eight steps to the final door. It's painted green. There's a guard that opens the door for you and you go into a room. It's tan. It's all tan. There's nothing in it except one chair. It's like a chair you used to sit in when you were a kid. It's hard and soft.
Jiggs: Now, cut it out! Cut it out!
Adam: They strap your arms and legs. Then they attach the electrodes. It's funny. They always feel cold to the touch at first.
Jiggs: Ah, Grant. You talk like you've been through it already.
Adam: Then they drop the mask. It's musty. Smells like an old sofa. Then you wait. Every muscle tense and straining. Any second. Any second. Then you can almost hear it. They pull the switch...