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“Patches, what’s it this time? Toe, hand, find your ear ye- OH GOD!”
Nurse Graves ran to help, but Doc Barrows held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t look! You don’t want to know!”
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Patchwork groaned.
“No, it’s- it’s not bad, just... ow.” Barrows leaned closer and winced in sympathy pain. “I think I can fix it?” He wasn't sure, but Patches was too drunk to notice.
“You’re a goo-... good man, Doc.”
He leaned down as Patches sat on the examination table, cringing. “...Where is it?”
Patchwork's face scrunched in deep concentration, then fell into confusion again. “I dunno... It was there...! And then it wasn’t.”
“Did it get stuck in anything?”
Another shrug, followed by a short burp. Barrows shook his head. With a sharp sigh, he looked over his shoulder at Nurse Graves. “I’m gonna need sutures, bandages, a bucket in case he hurls, and...”
“...And?” she prompted.
He put a hand on his near-bare scalp. “And... his penis, wherever it went.”
Three hours later, Winthrop finds it by chance in one of the urinals.