Clyde was furious. That psycho just slapped him!

Granted, it only stung a bit, but Clyde was really tempted to return the favor. The only problem was, physically attacking a person almost twice his size wasn't a great idea.

Instead, Clyde did his best to keep his cool. “What ah you trying to do? Make me cry out an apology?” This woman was probably older than him. Wouldn't it be fun to show her how immature she was?

Paige let out another sigh, plopping on the ground and burying her face in her knees, hugging them close to her chest. "I don't know what I'm trying to do anymore..." she murmured. "I didn't mean to hit you, I just...did." She mentally had to admit it usually made her feel better, hitting something or especially somebody. But this time...it didn't do a thing but make her feel worse. Maybe she was insane. Maybe all of this was just too much for her.

"If it's not none thing it's another..."

Puzzled, Clyde watched as the woman crouched down into the fetal position. He couldn't say he was expecting that reaction. His brow furrowed as she tried to tell him that she didn't mean to hit him. Really? The fact was, she'd still slapped him. But, seeing the state the woman was in left Clyde in an awkward position. How was he supposed to respond? He felt obligated to do something.

“Err... is theah someone I can get fo you?” he asked.

Paige shook her head. "No one I can think of, really. Not that it even matters..." She sighed burying her face in her knees again. This is what she'd become; she used to be so tough, and now she was crying in front of some stupid kid who'd thrown her in a washing machine. Oh and she was soaking wet and smelled like freaking lavender soap. Some tough chick now, huh?

Clyde shook his head. He wasn't sure whether to hate the woman for slapping him or pity her for having some sort of breakdown. “In that case, sorry about the incident,” he said, even though he still believed it wasn't his fault.

Keeping an eye on the woman, Clyde returned to the machine so he could restart it. His offer to grab a friend for her had already been turned down. He didn't know what else he was supposed to do for her, but his clothes needed washing. Maybe he'd purposely take longer than he needed, in case she had anything else to say.

Paige found herself crying again, trembling. Her mind was reeling. 'Breakdown' was the only word that could describe what happened next. Mental, emotional, psychotic, all three...who knew?

"Sorry...yeah. Just like everyone else. Sorry like everyone else who ever kicked my ass, or made me turn into a spork, or threw me in the washing machine....who cares? right? Who ****ing cares?" She flailed in a fit of emotion. Too much emotion, because at that point, she defaulted, shifting into a spork.

"****...."

Clyde squinted, slightly confused and definity irritated. This woman was clearly upset about something. Clyde had no clue what had gone on before the washing machine fiasco. But, he'd apologized, and the apology was not accepted. What else was he supposed to do? It wasn't like he could be sensitive and consoling, especially with someone who'd slapped him. Doing the opposite felt only natural.

Plink.

Not to mention, the idea of consoling a spork was awkward.

“Looks like I just turned you into a spork,” Clyde deadpanned. “If I was trying to be a jerk, I'd be throwing you into the dishwasher right now.”

"You think about it and I swear to God I'll kill you," Paige hissed, which...wasn't that intimidating, coming from a spork. She let out a sigh, wondering what the heck she should do now. Calming down and turning human was of course first on the list. Until then...well...verbal abuse worked.

"You know what...screw you. You've helped enough," she grumbled.

Clyde half-expected the spork to spring up and jab her. Could she even move like that? He wasn't sure. Sporks weren't great for stabbing, anyways.

The way she was talking to him made him wonder why he'd tried to be nice. Maybe it was because the situation reminded him of what happened with Persi. The misunderstanding, her stress level... there was somewhat of a parallel between them. Clyde didn't want to play a role in a suicide attempt again.

Yet, she slapped him and refused his apology. No matter what he said to her, it never helped. The remarks she was throwing at him didn't help her case, either.

Clyde rolled his eyes and headed for the door. Before leaving, he turned back to face her. “Screw you, too,” he responded.