You and I have a lot in common. Maybe that’s how we ended up in this room together. Such an odd game, isn’t it? 24 hours in a concrete box - who will make it out alive? The fact is, I knew what I was signing up for. I signed the waiver. No bribe necessary - no reward either. I heard you’ll get a few years knocked off your sentence if you win. And what’s to lose, right? Other than time spent with a woman. Some would be confused by your hatred of your own gender. I’m not. You see, I have a hatred built up inside me, too. Arguably more personal, unarguably more complex. I signed up for this because I can’t stand another day with myself. I’m vile. Atrocious. My thoughts, my actions - all boring. All terribly unamazing. So I thought to myself, what would turn things around? How could I, pardon the expression, kill 2 birds with 1 stone? This. I get to go out with a bang, or I suppose your hands will suffice, and you don’t even need convincing because you’ve done this before. You can imagine me as someone you hate, I don’t mind. I empathize. Your hate cannot be greater than my own. My hope is landing on a crime podcast. What better way to hate myself than create a memory around my own death? I hope this excites you as much as it excites me. I look forward to staring into the depths of those blue eyes as I fade away. Has anyone told you that they look kind? You have kind eyes. I know, don’t judge a book by its cover. I’m ready now.