A young doctor entered the room, young for a doctor, of course, being early thirties. Two men in black suits followed him, Pierre Cardin, tailor-made. The smaller more portly gentleman was sporting a psychedelic looking tie, perhaps a part of the Jerry Garcia line.
Nod your heads, the black suits coming.
The taller gentleman had a more polished look and was obviously the leader.
Here come the men in black.
He put his hand in his pocket retrieving his credentials, which he cavalierly snapped in my vicinity.
“Thompson Johnson McGuiness, APD and this is my partner Detective Rollins. We've taken statements from the doctor and the witnesses. Now we would like to hear your side of the story.”
Thompson Johnson McGuiness? He has three last names. Who the hell has three last names?
I deemed it necessary to make him aware of his situation, maybe nobody had ever told him. I mean I sort of felt sorry for the guy, not knowing that it's strange to have three last names.
I explained the situation as you would explain something to a slow child, "Detective, I don't know if you've noticed but you have three last names. You see, most people only have one last name. I wouldn't have mentioned it, but then I thought, hmmm, maybe he doesn't know how things work."
“Sergeant,” he corrected forcefully, flashing the doctor a bemused grin. "Just what drugs do you have him on, doc?"
The doctor looked at my chart, shaking his head, obviously amused. "None," he said. "He had to be sedated during the incident, but that was yesterday. Today his system is virtually clean."