Tortured(?)

    A man was bound to a chair, bloodied and beaten. His head hung low and his breathing was slow and raspy. He was sat in an abandoned building, with the only light coming from sparse fluorescent lights. Footsteps echoed through the abandoned building as another man approached. He wore a suit and was stone-faced as he looked upon the bound man.

    "Are you willing to talk?" The suited man questioned. The man in the chair scoffed and raised his head,  facing the suited man with a smile.

    "Yeah... Yeah, I'm willing to talk..." The suited man slightly puffed up at his achievement.

    "Though," the interruption stopped the suited man, "there was a faster, more efficient way to make me talk." The suited man seemed intrigued. "You could have threatened to delete my videogame process." The intrigue on the suited man's face deflated and a scowl replaced it. He drew closer to the bound man, irritation radiating off of him.

    "Talk." You could tell the suited man had no more words for the bound man.

    "Alright... Alright..." The suited man tilted his head. Was it from curiosity? Intrigue? A deeper inspection of the bound man? It was hard to tell. The bound man then took a deep breath.

    "Man... Yo breath stank. Smelling like you been licking hobo ankles. Yo shoes dirty, shirt wrinkled. Yo hair matted - looking like rats made a nest up. You're so raggedy, you make crumpled paper look neat."

    The suited man took a long pause. His expression indiscernible. Did this sudden roasting push him past his limit? The suited man suddenly burst out laughing. A hearty laugh that came from deep within. A laugh that melted tension within the suited man. This response surprised the bound man, disturbing him more than if the man snapped at him. While stilling laughing, he then placed his hand on the bound man's shoulder.