After 300 Infinite Regressions, I Keep Playing the Dean

I opened my eyes with half of a human finger clenched in my hand. The System punished me for having a foul mouth, saying that every word I spoke could be heard throughout the entire instance. The nurse had no face, only five holes. The director's stomach was packed with teeth. One teammate counted fingers, another sharpened a toothbrush, and a third kept reciting invisibility. None of them knew that I had already looped three hundred and sixty-four times. The director released one silicone finger each loop, and I burned one each loop. This time, I filled the fake finger with fuel. The elevator doors closed, and the director exploded. When the doors opened again, three hundred and sixty-four mirrors stood outside. Each one reflected an “I.” They all spoke at once: “Welcome back, Director.” So who am I, exactly? This novel and its characters are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to actual people or events is purely coincidental. Do not imitate.