“Hey, Rosalind. Dinner ready?” Norman asked as he entered the apartment. “The day couldn't end soon enough,” Norman complained.

Norman didn't need to ask; dinner was always ready on time. Maybe not always, but mostly always.

“It's coming out of the oven now. Sit down and have some wine.”

“Sure. How was your day?”

“Nothing special,” Rosalind told him as she left the room to fetch the pot roast from the kitchen.

Norman took a seat as suggested. He sat at the head of the table as per usual. There was a placemat for him as well as flatware and two glasses. One was already filled with water and the other was waiting to be filled with wine. He poured himself a glass. It was a red wine to compliment the roast.

The mood was pleasant in the house. Norman didn't have any clue of what Rosalind was planning. Inside the wine that Norman was casually sipping, was a powerful hypnotic that would soon make Norman highly suggestible to any command that he heard.

Rosalind brought out the roast and placed it on the center of the table. Sides, such as mashed potatoes and creamed spinach, had already been placed for easy access.

Once Rosalind sat down, Norman scooped out some potatoes onto his place. He did the same with the spinach taking as much as he wanted. Finally, he took several slices of the pot roast.

Norman's demeanor didn't change even though the hypnotic was doing its work. He didn't even realize that he was being commanded.

“Norman,” Rosalind told him, “Whenever I say, 'Isn't that your,' 'Aren't those your,' or 'You know,” you will be completely certain I am telling the truth.

After dinner, Rosalind led Norman to a room and told him, “Your room is a pig sty, Clean it up now!”

“This isn't my room,” Norman insisted.

“It isn't? Isn't that your favorite dolly, Jennifer?” Rosalind told him. Indicating a plastic doll dressed in pink with a headband. Jennifer was sitting propped up by the bed on the floor not too far from Norman's feet.

“It is,” Norman agreed recognizing the beloved plaything instantly. “But that doesn't mean this is my room.”

“It doesn't? You know you love to carry Jennifer wherever you go.”

Norman knew that Rosalind was right. He couldn't bear seeing his Jennifer abandoned on the floor like that. He bent over and picked it up, clutching it onto his chest in a similar way he would hold a real toddler.

“Maybe you brought it here?”

“How could I? You know you like to always know where Jennifer is.”

“I do, but sometimes she gets lost.”

“Look at the walls. You know you insisted we paint it rose-colored with creamy white accents.”

Norman saw the walls that were a rich shade of pink, he knew that hue was called 'Rose' and remembered insisting that Rosalind allow him to paint his room that color.

“Just because it's painted in colors, I like doesn't mean it isn't my room. I'll bet there are thousands of rooms painted this color in this city alone.”

“But aren't those your paintings with your favorite princesses?”

“They are.”

“And aren't those your unicorn paintings? You know unicorns are among your favorite things.”

“Yeah, I guess there are some things about the room that looks a little like mine. But you and I share a room. How could both of us sleep in a bed that small?”

“You know that isn't true. You know that you have been sleeping alone in a full-size bed.”

“You have me there.”

“And the rest of these dolls and plush animals on the floor, you know they are all yours.”

“I know. I'll clean them up. I promise!”

“But you say this isn't your room. Let's look in the drawers and see if your apparel is there.”