His right ankle slides together against the bottom of his left foot, causing the sandal strap of his one remaining flip flop to pull against the top of his toes, and he breathes heavily. "Put me down, put me down!" Sweat mixes with the oil and grease and seasonings on him, and the manager upstairs is glued to his monitors and enjoying a margarita to Stevens lunch. Haakon continues to struggle, but he begins to coldly realize that it's all in vain, and his flailings are less energetic than before and his body awareness increases. An erection starts, but he will never admit that it turns him on.