[It's not the name. It's something different. Something he considers embarrassing, something that Venkman will never find out about, because it was Kim's own fault for not weathering it.

I feel like the more I stand next to you, the worse my headache gets. Kim's brain feels like it's about to explode from the sheer amount of information and the fact he's trying to hold two conversations at once. It doesn't help that the pain from Venkman bounces around in his skull and gets amplified. He needs some way to block all this out, like how Venkman used that strange mascot to prevent Kim from seeing his thoughts. Over the next few seconds, Venkman gets a steady drone of some long, boring novel that Kim read once upon a time--the Revacholian equivalent of "War and Peace".]

Fine. [He glances around at the dilapidated surroundings, taking in the blankets and supplies. The Kim-narrated audiobook doesn't stop, but his defenses are likely weaker than Venkman's (probably) practiced mental barrier.] I'll leave, since your condition seems to become worse the longer I stay here. I would appreciate it if you told me who was helping you so I know you're actually being cared for, but it's not necessary. Does that sound good to you?