"109, actually. And just checking," Indy shot back. "When you've been here a little longer, you'll understand why I'm cautious about making assumptions about time here." Just great, so they'd thrown in the Grail story too. What hadn't been in the damn movie? It must be two weeks long.
Indy didn't have a good comeback to the kid's--Indy refused to think of him as 'Peter' until he stopped being such a rat--statement about having checked in the library, short of suggesting that he dig up a University of Chicago yearbook. He probably just hadn't looked anywhere near as hard as he thought he had; Indy knew the type. His 101 courses were filled as often as not with young guys like this one who thought they were the brightest stars ever to appear on the academic horizon, and as often as not they got a nasty shock back with their midterm grades. Assuming he ever got around to grading the midterms, that was. Some semesters that was up in the air.
In any case, Indy didn't buy the idea that the movie was the only record of his life, so he moved right along to the next point. "The nurses have been calling me 'Harry Lucas,'" he explained testily. "From what I've heard, they've given most of the patients fake names; I'm just trying to figure out if there's any logic to mine. Someone around here must think he's a real comedic genius."
He spread his hands, feeling a little helpless. When you came right down to it, he didn't have any real way of proving to this wiseass kid that he wasn't delusional; nobody here did. "Look, I don't know what I'm supposed to do to convince you of who I am, if you're even interested in being convinced. But if my being here is the strangest thing you've run across so far, your life is only gonna get stranger from here."
no subject
Indy didn't have a good comeback to the kid's--Indy refused to think of him as 'Peter' until he stopped being such a rat--statement about having checked in the library, short of suggesting that he dig up a University of Chicago yearbook. He probably just hadn't looked anywhere near as hard as he thought he had; Indy knew the type. His 101 courses were filled as often as not with young guys like this one who thought they were the brightest stars ever to appear on the academic horizon, and as often as not they got a nasty shock back with their midterm grades. Assuming he ever got around to grading the midterms, that was. Some semesters that was up in the air.
In any case, Indy didn't buy the idea that the movie was the only record of his life, so he moved right along to the next point. "The nurses have been calling me 'Harry Lucas,'" he explained testily. "From what I've heard, they've given most of the patients fake names; I'm just trying to figure out if there's any logic to mine. Someone around here must think he's a real comedic genius."
He spread his hands, feeling a little helpless. When you came right down to it, he didn't have any real way of proving to this wiseass kid that he wasn't delusional; nobody here did. "Look, I don't know what I'm supposed to do to convince you of who I am, if you're even interested in being convinced. But if my being here is the strangest thing you've run across so far, your life is only gonna get stranger from here."