"Let's not do anything rash," you say to your brother.
"What do you mean?" he asks.
"We took a long time to find this thing, and we need to study this thing a lot more before we do anything. We need to completely understand how it works before we try to tinker with it, or turn it off-"
"Or sit in it?" your brother says.
"Or sit in it."
Neither of you move. Each enraptured in your own way by the presence of the chair.
"I think we should sit in it first," says your brother. "Just for a second each."
You look at the bizarre contraption, and the room all around. White tile all around, a bare yellow lightbulb hanging. All the copper and lead tubing snaking into the floor walls and ceiling. Just like in the drawings you studied for so long. You can tell just by looking a little closer which ones draw in the siphoned pain and which ones concentrate and focus it into the chair's occupant. Maybe your brother's right. You already know how it works.
Do you remain insistent that You must not sit in the chair yet or do you give in to your brother's suggestion that You sit in the chair right away?