Killing Me Softly

You get to your feet and approach the first person who talked, a wispy woman. Her stare turns piercing.
"You're perfect," she said, almost reverently. "He will be pleased."
He? You open your mouth. "Who's he?"
...Is what you mean to say. But you don't. You don't make a sound. You... can't make a sound?
What the fuck?
You know the words. You understand her. And you think you're supposed to know how to talk! But nothing happens. You make faces like a fish out of water.
The woman's face contorts. "A mute? He will not be pleased."
"Imperfection," someone whispers.
"Imperfection." "Imperfection." "IMPERFECTION!"
They roll forward like a tsunami. They'll be on you in seconds.