speech collapsed to consonants and bleats — "Fackelmann was bleating like a sheep…"

Around the edge of the scene Fackelmann's language degrades to pure sound — a mumble "that consisted totally of g’s," then a sheep's bleat — the far end of the book's spectrum of output that carries no message, the human voice reduced to noise that can no longer even attempt to mean. It rhymes forward with his mouth held open in a scream nobody in the room will act on.