You don't have anything handy to smash your lodgings with, but it is just drywall, right? You swing out a heavy fist and pound open a hole, exposing empty space behind. You kick another hole, then punch a third, rampaging through the house. Russel has stopped his destruction and is only watching you. Eventually, you pause in the midst of your angst to say, "What?"
"Kyle," he replies, "what the hell are you doing?"
"What are you talking about?" you ask. "My name's not even..." It's then that you realize you've de-evolved into some rage-feuled white-boy hissy-fit. You wake up crying.