Problems with security

Who: Patrick Cerebrum
Where: Psychiatric offices
When: The psychaitric offices are inside, my sundial doesn't work
Cerebrum was working on his rigged up appartuses with a toolkit he
had swipped from an engineering ensign who had made the mistake of
turning his back on them for a second while Cerebrum was passing by.
He was interrupted in the middle of his work by three pereptually
annoyed, mentally unstable, stupid, but above all, large men who came
in through the door.
"This the medi-bay stuff?" the first one said in his eloquent way.
Cerebrum glanced at the equipment he was working on. The predominent
decorative feature were red crosses and a large portion of the words
written on the equipment said things along the line of, 'Property of
Medi-Bay.' He gauged the security officer's intelligence, and came up
with the fact that they only had, at most, an IQ of seven. Among them.
The second one said, "Can we beat him up now?"
"Not yet," said the first one, obviously the brains of the bunch, he
probably could handle two sylable words "first we take this equipment
back to the medi-bay, then we beat him up." Hypothesis confirmed.
"I want to beat him up now," said the third, or possibly the second.
They were hard to tell apart.
"The equipment first."
"Why?"
"Because I said so. Now we'll all pick that, that, whatever it is
then put it on that thing with wheels."
Note to self: subject is capable of handling two sylable words, but
still has trouble associating names with objects; such the
definition: small table with wheels and the word: cart.
Then Cerebrum saw what they were grabbing at and sprang up, "Wait
don't touch that. That's a-"
There was a loud zapping noise, and the three security guards
collapsed unconcious on the floor after two cold fusion generators
drained their power supply through the guards' bodies.
"Malfunctioning electro-shock device," Cerebrum finished, then looked
down at the unconcious bodies. He figured that they would lose a few
brain cells, which was bad news since they couldn't spare the ones
they already had, and they would be unconcious for another twenty
hours or so. Only one thing to do then.
A while later, out in the hallway. Cerebrum had managed to get all
three guards onto the cart using principles of physics and simple
machines (okay, one complicated machine too, an anti-grav lifter). He
had put a sign on the cart that read, 'Please bring to medi-bay.' It
was sort of a psychological experiment. He would judge the average
sanity and compassion of the crew based on how long it would take the
three goons to arrive at the medi-bay. In order to speed the
experiment up, he gave the cart a good shove and watched it roll down
the hallway, slowly speeding up as principles of mass and
acceleration acted upon it.