He kind of expected someone...fat. But that was probably Rorschach projecting again. He understood not wanting to see a shrink, but this deep run hatred of anyone in the psychology business was a little frightening if he cared to examine it closely. Which he'd rather not. It was going to be tough to not show this hatred, and he already had a headache.
He grinned and took the offered hand, giving it a quick shake.
"Call me Mike," he said and put his hand into his coat pocket. "Mr. Collins was my dad. Or, if you really wanna go formal, you can call me detective," he laughed and pulled his hand out of his pocket, unwrapping the sugar cube that was held there and popping it into his mouth.