"I don't know how to make this make sense, 'cause it still doesn't make sense to me," Lennon said honestly. "There's about twenty people here in this house, and we were all taken from wherever we were... like I was in Florida at a bar. We woke up here, like you did, and so far nobody's found a way to get away." He ran his fingers through his hair, belatedly trying to straighten it a little; he couldn't remember if he'd actually combed it when he'd gotten out of bed. "The place is nice enough, we got plenty of food and stuff like that. It's just that sometimes they make us do stuff."
Did he sound as much like an idiot as he thought he did? Ugh. "Do you wanna come downstairs with me? We could make a pot of coffee, have some breakfast. I think my stomach lining is eating itself."