Conversation · Damaged Ledger

Wait... HDB41? Weren't those: 'Officer, precinct'?

Why yes. Your precinct number is 41.

And HDB...

Every last alphanumeric in the files begins with it -- and these are your case files. It's safe to say H.D.B. are your initials.

Harrier Du Bois -- H.D.B.

Fine, then. I give up on Raphaël...

That's comforting to hear. Now, detective. It takes half an hour to piece one of these together -- if you still want to. Here are your options.

I think what you meant to say was RAC -- Raphaël Ambrosius Costeau.

No, the alphanumeric begins with HDB.

Can't you see the sire is tired of these... fabrications. RAC is clearly what it says on the case files. These are official documents. There is no arguing with official documents.

Actually, I'm ready to admit I'm not Raphaël and go on with my life.

Good. How long does it take to read one of these Raphaël-stamped cases? (Persist.)

Fine. It takes about half an hour for you to piece one together, Mr... Raphaël. Which one do you want?

Harry Du Bois -- H.D.B.

Still feels like there's something missing from that...

Horus Debby Berenger?

That... is improbable.

How long does it take to read a case?

It takes about half an hour to piece one together, using the system you've devised. Where do you want to start?

Those aren't my initials, I'm not feeling them.

Feeling isn't really the jurisdiction we're in right now.

Probably for the best. Because HDB feels like bad news from yesteryear. Like shit, honcho.

Hram Darjan Binzakin?

Yeah... no.

Wow. I don't know what to say to that.

I got nothing here either. Logic really isn't the best faculty to have this conversation with, But it's the one you got, so sorry.

Yeah, we're staying out of this business for now. HDB is bad news from yesteryear. It's shit, honcho.

Wait! What is HDB41?

Forty one is your precinct.

But what is HDB?

It's safe to say those are the initials of the officer responsible for the case -- your initials.

It's possible: yes. Easy: no. You need to come up with a small archaeological system to re-order the remains of your past works. At the moment all they do is fall apart in your hands. Some dates and the numeric titular system is all you have.

Oh, and a cool piece of toilet paper is stuck to the back.

It's the ledger you found in the trash: a pitiful cabbage of white and yellow papers hanging from plastic board, barely held together by a metal clip. This sad display is made complete by the faint smell of urinal cleaner.

Anything else?

There's a piece of toilet paper -- or is it cleaning tissue? No, it's toilet paper -- desperately sticking to the back of the blue plastic clipboard.

It's a metaphor -- for you.

Thank you, waterlogged ledger, for spelling it out for us.

Below the pathetics -- terror. Do not look into its blue heart.

Ignorantly pass through the eighth thousandth sign that it's yours.

YOU CAN'T! This is your ledger. You're a COP and it's your official ledger. It's filled out in your hand and it stinks like you too. And looks like you.

Hold on, what do you mean a metaphor for me?

FACE THE DESOLATION! This is your ledger. You're a COP and it's your official ledger. It's filled out in your hand and it stinks like you too. And looks like you.

[Put the ledger away.]

I think I got it.

Right, what more do you need? A rubber condom stuck to the back? A graffito that says 'DEFEATED'? I think you catch the drift.

The Ledger of (Oblivion Induced) Mental Health is just as shabby as the Damaged Ledger was: a bunch of sodden papers sags from the clipboard in your hand.