"So you're just gonna sit there and not talk? Yeah, that's gonna be real productive in the long run." Fine, if this guy doesn't want to talk, they can spend all day here for all the Digimon cares.

But it isn't too long before Beelzemon can feel a pain starting in his head. It's like his conscience has a physical form now and is batting away the insides of his skull. He reaches up one large hand, rubbing at the sides of his face. "Feel like talkin' yet?" He asks.