"Thank you for your input, Dr. Wilcox." You have to work very, very hard to sound calm. "Dr. Ellison, can we discuss my student evaluations?"
You jerk to your feet as if hit with a cattle prod. Everyone at the table stares. "Sorry. I had to stretch my legs."
Said legs tremble. You take a step as if you'd forgotten how locomotion works. You try to sit but your body won't obey you.
"We go now. Make excuse."
The voice has your body. You've got to get out of here and figure out how you stop this. "Uh, I'm very sorry, but I'm not feeling well." That has the benefit of being completely true. "Thanks for the candid assessment of how I'm doing." You're forced to take another halting step. "Dr. Ellison, Dr. Eze, Dr. Wilcox, I'll see you later." You hope your grin isn't as desperate as you fear it is.
The moment you stop resisting the voice, you regain control of your body. You sprint to your office, close the door, and lock it.
This is Very Bad