"You can never be too sure," Howl commented lightly as he began to saw into his french toast. Making the food appealing felt like just another slap in the face. He could imagine that twisted wizard (or whatever he was) laughing over his (shoddy) rendition of a hospital, and deciding that everything would be horrible and painful except for the food. That way, they would have something pleasant to compare all of their pain to. After being abducted, chased about by monsters and dumped unceremoniously into lakes, they could wake up and feel the sharp contrast of despair against the lovely scent of syrup, muffins and fresh fruit.

"We are in a mental hospital, after all," he continued, and gestured around them with his free hand. Although he was careful to make the sweep around the room graceful and precise, Howl declined to look up from his meal at the crowd. Still, he just grinned with more humor than he felt, and suggested, "At least one of us might actually be mad!"