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Dr. Morris Lancaster: If anything, his behavior has deteriorated. We may have to keep him here longer than we thought.Sharona: Well, how much longer?Dr. Morris Lancaster: That's hard to say. It could be a month.Sharona: A month? [They examine Monk, standing out in the garden]Dr. Morris Lancaster: It could be as long as a year. Adrian is bipolar. He's delusional and he's paranoid. He sees murder mysteries everywhere he turns. In fact, he's befriended another patient, and the two of them are trying to prove that Santa Claus really does exist.Sharona: Santa Claus?Dr. Morris Lancaster: Mm-hmm. They went out on the roof collecting evidence. It would be funny if it wasn't so... dysfunctional. [Dr. Lancaster and Sharona meet Monk] Adrian, look who's here.Sharona: Hey, boss. How you feelin'?Monk: Ah, I feel good. I can't-I can't wait to go home.Sharona: Well, we were just talking about that.Dr. Morris Lancaster: Adrian, would you mind if I showed your friend some of the artwork that you made yesterday? [He shows some artwork] Oh, here it is. Wait a minute. [shows them a disturbed image of Trudy's grave]Monk: Did I draw that?Dr. Morris Lancaster: You don't remember? Isn't that Trudy's grave?Sharona: Um, Dr. Lancaster said that you saw Santa Claus.Monk: [scoffs] No, we didn't actually see him. Manny took a picture, but he lost the camera. But we found a piece of a red suit.Dr. Morris Lancaster: We'd love to see it, Adrian.[Monk looks through his pockets for the piece of Santa fabric that he found, but he can't find it]Monk: It was here. It was in here. A little piece of fabric, you know, of Santa's-Santa's, you know, suit. Okay, no, no. It was a piece of... fabric, and...Sharona: Doctor? Can I talk to you privately?Monk: Like... Santa's tuis.Dr. Morris Lancaster: Sure. [He and Sharona walk away]Sharona: He's not himself. He needs me. Look, I could be here two, three times a week, okay? I still have my license. Maybe they can give me a job here.Dr. Morris Lancaster: Sharona, I know you mean well, but the less contact Adrian has with his old life, the better. You can write him a letter. You can bring him something from home. I'm sure he'd like that, but no visits.[Sharona approaches Monk, who is now looking under his bed]Sharona: Look, Adrian. I-listen, I-I can't take you home right now.Monk: Sharona, look at his shoes, just look at his shoes. They're smudged. Could be soot. Those are boat shoes. They're made for traction. And I think, he has been walking on the roof.

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