Nikita: I know what this is all about. Now you're going to ask me what acute trauma struck me as a child to devastate me, numb all my thoughts - my very psyche - and turn me into this seemingly happy person who is, in fact, nothing but a shell of despair, right? Well, let me tell you something, Mr. Saintly Soul with Benign Eye: I'm not the one who's screwed up here, YOU are. Look at you. You work in one room all day, only to move into another one by night, a room that hasn't been aired for... months? Or is it years? You watch television on mute, you never use your fancy CD player except as a chess board - who do you play with, yourself? - and you have the audacity to arrive at the conclusion that I am the screwed up one here?