When Clickolding - a vaguely Inscryption-y sub-hour dread droplet - opens, you’re sitting on a bed across from a man wearing a mask that looks like someone gave up halfway through carving an Easter Island statue of Joe Camel, stuck a pair of googly eyes on it, then went to cry in the corner at what they’d created.
In your hand is a clicker counter. Moose-face stares. What do those eyes convey? Patience? Intent? Longing? If nothing else, they betray a deep certainty that whatever else happens, you’re going to click. If you stop clicking for a moment, a prompt appears in the corner telling you the controls. At least, I think it's a prompt, because it might actually be a threat.
Left click to click. He'd like you to click 10,000 times, please.