Mr B.B.

Mr B.B. has some problems. Quite a few, in fact, of which [CONFIDENTIAL] is certainly not the least, though a major one. He, however, is the patient whom even the doctor does not want to see. As sympathetic as our nurses are, even they have had enough to namecall him a "psychopath" in a mental health clinic. But who can blame them. The man was in the habit of imagining himself in possession of a "one-touch poison" and freaking out innocent office secrataries.

One of his most notable incidents is perhaps the time when he pretended to have done some sort of strenous activity which left his left paralized. Any amount of injury must be reported and the paperwork can get very irritating, and so Mr Unit Manager could not resist taking a little revenge of his own. When all else fails, go for the needle - preferably the largest one you can get your hands on. The effect was instantaneous. Mr B had thought up one last resort - to fling himself from his chair to the bed in a belly flop.

As much as I would like to rant on about more of Mr B.B's shenannigens, night beckons and I must hit the hay, turn in, zonk out, catch a wink, hibernate, catch some z's, etc.