Maybe find them, Ben said. Sure, why not? Go on ahead and seek out violent murderers. Ones who probably have swords and shit. Sounded like a perfect idea to him, really. He honestly couldn't think of anything he'd rather do. Grab his god damn selfie stick and run up to someone with a knife and start swinging. It could only go one way - well.
No, wait, actually. The idea of doing that struck him as fucking stupid.
Looked like everyone else wanted to get out of this storage closet. After sitting in it for about three or so days, he couldn't help but agree. As much as he loved sitting in the dark and talking about absolutely nothing worth remembering all day long, he was more than ready to leave. After hearing Ben saying 'we gotta move', Matt noticeably perked up. Move? Somewhere that isn't the storage closet? Sure, he thought. He could do that. He was certain there was a time when he had done more on this island than sit inside a closet, but he couldn't quite recall when that was and what he did.
"Alright," he said. "We're leaving?" He could almost smile, really, if he weren't on this stupid fucking island. "Alright, uh, just gotta grab my shit." He went over to grab his bag - opening it, he pulled out his selfie stick. "I guess I can.. hit someone with this. If they're looking for a fight."
He went out the door, glancing back at the closet. Maybe he'd come to miss this place, someday.
Yeah, wait, no. Fuck closets.
((Matt Moradi continued to Coming Out Of The Closet