Tim stepped back, aghast at the sight of his friend. Rick's entire body was covered in what looked like a thin layer of red rubber, masking all of his features aside from his hair and clothes. He still didn't move or react to anything, remaining in a fetal position, his face pointed towards the end of the hall.
"Rick, come on, snap out of it!" Tim screamed at his friend, shaking him violently, but there was still no response. He tried to lift Rick to his feet, and found it far easier than he'd expected - he was unresponsive to demands, but moved completely willingly to Tim's efforts, even helping in the posing. Even when Tim started to pull him, grasping his latex-covered hand, Rick just walked like a soulless robot, following the pull.
Tim was starting to panic, beads of sweat raining down his face in a torrent. "W-what did this?!" He looked to the end of the hall where Rick had been staring, to the dark shadows that concealed whatever might be waiting within their depths. Whatever did it must still be waiting there, watching him, biding its time until he makes the same mistake Rick did and walks down the corridor. However, Tim wasn't the sort to make the mistakes Rick did. In fact, without Rick to push him he wasn't liable to do much of anything risky, and instead decided to take the safe route. His catatonic friend in tow, Tim began he journey back to the lounge of the mansion. Even if he couldn't get answers there, he could still get help.