Where Chelldon went, Wheatley followed. That was his protocol. So suck that, Tyler! Wheatley was performing exactly as expected and no amount of chiding through their neural network could make Wheatley feel otherwise. "You know, I actually feel sorry for Tyler. No Test Subject, all of his protocols are on the blitz, a smelly human that has nothing to do with testing to follow-- It must be like hell for him. Slimey, smelly, awful robot hell."

They came out of the next door and were greeted by lots and lots of orange covered surfaces. Wheatley frowned, checked his databanks and found that information on this substance was passcoded too!

What a load of...of...orange paint!

Well, one way to test it was just to poke at it-- Which sent Wheatley promptly into a wall at high speeds.