The first time Pickman sees one of the posters, he has to laugh.

He feels like he's been punched in the gut, and he has to laugh, because he doesn't know what else to do. Of all the obstacles he had expected to deal with when he took his path, this had never come to mind.

The initial burst of laughter fades into giggling, in little chirpy spurts, as he walks up to the wall, and starts to pull the poster down, careful not to rip it at all. Careful, careful. He's going to take this home. He's going to keep it. A souvenir.