You glance over at Zak, who looks like he has a question. You decide to keep a hold of your last question, since it sounds like you can use it later, and nod at Zak.
Mr. Raw seems to understand what you’re doing and curls his lip in a sneer again, and irritably taps one of his foot-long fingers on the side of his chair.
You are now Zak. You ask your question.
Zak: “Assuming we survive until the XIIIth Bell, what specifically is the Mayor’s purpose for us?
Mr. Raw grins again, wider than ever.
Mr. Raw: “His purpose for you, is to be your audience. He is the nigh-eternal laugh track to the pathetic sitcom of your misery.”
Well, shit. Seems like that’s all he’s willing to say.