Back when I was a kid, a decade or two ago, Verne Gagne was the man. The man, if you like the weekly televised local wrestling show where various masked men, Germans, Mexicans, Arabs, Russians, Frenchmen and the ethnically mysterious would slip into the most hackneyed stereotypes and holler at each other promoting the upcoming monthly match at the Civic Auditorium. Verne was the good guy, the perennial champion who beat back the challenges of Baron Von Rashke and Wicked Nick Bockwinkle and Sheik Adnan Al Kasee and the Avenger and whatever interloper would show up.
Well Verne is now 82, and has had his share of flying dropkicks bounce off his skull. He now has Alzheimers and lives in a nursing home in the twin cities where he apparently put an eternal sleeper hold on his 97 year old roommate. It's a weird story, a sad story, and who knows what happened? Maybe Verne thought his roommate, a man who fled Nazi Germany , was one of his old goosestepping opponents.
Nonetheless, what do you do in a case like this? Perhaps you can suspend him, or disqualify him, or maybe give him a private room.