It was late at night. Guest was tired of being in the moment, and took four Benadryls. As you laid in your room, you looked at the corner finding him. The hatman. You expected to be attacked— but he just sat next to you. Patting your head as he spoke.

“.. Damn, another one. What’s wrong with you kiddo?”

He says, the room was dimly dark. You were able to see his figure and ofcourse, his signature hat.