Easterson: “I heard you the first time Doctor, but what in blazes does it mean?”
Gnarlhawk: “Face blindness – I… I have trouble distinguishing one face from another. If the board found out about my condition they’d have my license… I’d have to go back to being a P.I. – and who’d hire a gumshoe who can’t tell one mugshot from another?”
Guinevere: “I’m curious Doctor-”
Gnarlhawk turns, and stares intently at the young woman before him.
Guinevere: “Can you even tell between a man and a woman?”
Gnarlhawk raises his eyes to look Guinevere in the face.
Gnarlhawk: “Uh… sure. From your… voice.”
Easterson: “There’s something I don’t understand Doctor… How could you possibly confuse me with Stockton Fortuna? The only comatosed man in this room in the bed over there.”
Easterson waves a hand vaguely in the directly of Stockton’s bed, not wasting energy to turn his head – why would he when that same energy might possibly be used to take advantage of the Doctor’s newly revealed medical condition?
Gnarlhawk: “Quite simple, Mr. de Butugenhausen. I may not know Stockton’s face, but I’ve seen his chart…. And as sure as my name’s Doctor Gnarlhawk Sinclair, he’s not in a coma.”
All eyes turn towards the bed, but Stockton is nowhere to be seen! Easterson splutters a shocked cough. Guinevere edges closer to the doctor and whispers in a helpful tone,
Guinevere: “He’s not there.”
Gnarlhawk: “I know what an empty bed looks like!”