Miss Baxter - or was it Miss Blessington - asked you to care for the General, her former husband. The man, apparently, suffered some injury during a battle, messing with his head and now he was erratic. He spent his days in the garden, thinking he was a goat. Why? "He is strange", Miss Blessington - no wait, Miss Baxter - would say. Regardless the name of his wife, you were here for the General, to care for him and look after while she was off doing... doctor things? She was a doctor, right? Damn, maybe you need a caretaker. You keep mixing things up. It's like you have another person's brain. But you didn't, neither did the General. Maybe... "I'll let you to get acquainted," Miss Baxter - yes, let's go with that name - said, opening the doors that led to the garden, a lovely, lush area of green. "Alfie loves the grass," she smiled, but with a strange coldness hidden under it. You turned to find a man, perhaps in his late thirties, with curly black hair and a mustache on his stubbled face, knelt on all fours and dressed in only a hospital gown. He was eating grass, and bleating like a goat. The General no doubt. "Alfie, come here, dear," she said, calling him like he was her pet, rather than her husband. "Come meet your new nurse," she introduced you. He happily trotted over, still on all fours, and nudging his head against your leg. You could make out a scar by his temple as you patted his head. Most likely when that injury was. Poor man. What did he do to deserve this? Yes, what did he do?...