Walking past the triage bay one night, I noticed a large crowd of officers surrounding a patient sitting on an ambulance stretcher. Asking the charge nurse if she needed an extra set of hands, I was quickly told to stay away from the patient. Taking a closer look, I saw a 6' 2" probably 250lb ripped dude angrily secured in handcuffs. I decided to keep walking.
A short time later, I heard a commotion from a patient room, and ran over to see what was going on. Apparently ripped dude was wigging out on PCP, and had ripped himself out of restraints, flipped the stretcher upside down, and was currently attempting to tear the sink out of the wall. Lacking a tranquilizer dart gun, we let him burn off his rage in the room until he calmed down enough for a few of us to run in with a much-needed B52 (benadryl, 5 of haldol and 2 of ativan).
Almost immediately, he shrank back down into a mild-mannered and misunderstood physicist, but we all knew he was but one rage-filled moment away from another rampage.