“Good evening, my name is Spleen, Gerald Spleen.”
“Spleen? Seriously?”
He eyed the young man with a look of distaste. “And what’s wrong with my name?”
“Nothing, I…”
“It’s a perfectly normal name, and not that uncommon at all. There’s nothing odd about it, if that’s what you were thinking.”
“No, I…”
“A normal name, not like some of the other boys I was at school with. Not like that Michael Duodenum, the pretentious little shit.”