Props to Glark, for coming up with all the best lines in this recap, and to Kim, Pamie, Omar G, Stee, and Sars, who'll be rocking my world at the SXSW Interactive Festival this week.
Previously on ER: Elizabeth had early contractions and had to be hospitalized; Carter met and macked on a new girl named Rena Trujillo; Mark had to undergo formal competency training to make sure he was still fit to practise medicine; Weaver called Legaspi for a consult on a young woman who tried to kill herself by parking her car on railroad tracks, and thus caused a horrible train wreck; then Legaspi gave Weaver a set of keys and told Weaver to wake her when she came in. If you know what I'm saying. And, by now, you certainly should.
Morning. Kerry "Lying Like a Rug Muncher" Weaver, in her pyjamas, crutches out onto the street and picks up a newspaper in a plastic bag. Two dudes amble up, and one calls out, "Dr. Legaspi." "No," Weaver says. The dude who already addressed her introduces himself as Det. Graham and his colleague as Det. Watkins, both of the Chicago Police Department. They show their badges, and Graham says they had the address listed as Dr. Legaspi's residence. Weaver asks whether everything's all right. Watkins asks whether Legaspi does, in fact, live there, and Weaver says she does, and that she's inside. Graham leans forward and asks, a little aggressively, "Who are you?" Weaver gives them her name. Watkins suspiciously asks whether she lives at the house, and Weaver says she doesn't, and that this was really, at its root, nothing more than a booty call. Okay, she doesn't. But she should. Really, she starts stumbling over an awkward explanation of who she is and why she's there, and ultimately trails off by saying that she's cold. Graham tells her to go inside, and says they just need to speak to Legaspi. Weaver goes up the stairs, presumably to get her.
In another darkened bedroom, Abby "Lisa" Lockhart slumbers between aggressively flowered sheets. The light snaps on and Luka "Cheer Tater" Kovac kneels on the bed to her, holding an open cup of coffee in front of his face and sensually blowing the aroma toward her. Dude. DUDE. She grimaces, and mumbles, "Luka, I think one of the kids from the coffee shop broke into the apartment." Luka sets down her cup and climbs into bed, saying he got breakfast. She says she doesn't believe in breakfast. He claims that it's the most important meal of the day, and she replies that it's never been medically proven. He opens his paper. She rolls over and squints, "Why are you up?" He cheerfully says that he's up because it's morning, adding that he has coffee, bagels, and wants to check the paper because he's thinking of getting a new place. She rolls back over, cracking, "What, did the hotel fire you for getting up too early?" "No," he smirks. "Well, somebody should," she replies. He playfully whacks her in the head with his rolled-up newspaper. "Hey!" she says sharply. Luka's good mood will not be dampened, and he shows her a listing in the paper for "an entire warehouse...for the price of some condos." Lisa manages to open her eyes just wide enough to inspect the picture, and mutters, "That is very nice. Especially in the summer when all you smell is dead flesh: it's the slaughterhouse district." As she tosses the paper back and tries to roll back over, he protests that it's still a good deal. Realizing that she's done sleeping for the night, she sits up, whining, "You know, first you live on a boat, then a hotel, now a meat plant. What's , a tree house?" "You're really not a morning person, are you?" he muses. She hurls a pillow at his head, and he throws it back; she giggles when it hits her in the face. Happy Luka is oddly unnerving. It's like he's a replicant. I'd actually forgotten there ever was a time when he wasn't depressed. I'll have to get used to the smile all over again. Ahhhhhh.
In yet another bedroom, John Carter "Hey -- Wood!" wakes up to the sound of an alarm going off very faintly. As he rolls his head over, he finds himself sharing the bed with a black lab, who licks his face. At the sound of chow being poured into a bowl in the kitchen, the dog leaps off the bed and gallops toward the food. Carter gets up, throws the blanket around his shoulders, and follows the dog into the kitchen to greet Rena "Samantha Skankchez" Trujillo. That it is her apartment in which Carter's waking up comes as a surprise to exactly no one. She makes a joke about his "toga," and he says he's lost his clothes. She tells him that his pants are on the couch, and that Norman (the dog) had Carter's socks, so she put them in Carter's shoes. Hey! I know a sexy lady in Chicago who lives in an apartment and has a dog named Norm! She's too good for Carter's ass, though. Stupid banter about the dog's name, as if anyone cares. Carter, with his hand on the bathroom door, enthusiastically says he does; as he turns the knob, the toilet flushes, and a surly-looking girl comes out. She balefully glares at Rena, and goes into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. "My roommate," Rena explains. Carter observes that said roommate "seems a little angry," and Rena says she thinks they kept her up the night before. First of all, gross. Second, I don't blame her for glaring at your inconsiderate asses. Carter decides he doesn't have to pee, after all, I guess, because he comes back to the kitchen counter as Rena opines that her roommate is probably more jealous than angry. Wow, sisterhood is powerful! Catty bitch. Rena offers Carter some tea; he asks for coffee, but she says she doesn't drink it. He says it's okay, and digs into the plate she's set in front of him. After a moment of awkward silence, Rena says she doesn't "usually do this -- bring somebody home." Carter says he doesn't, either, but leaves off the fact that his reason is that his grandmother would give him a spanking and then ground him for a month if he did. Rena flirts that maybe they can do it again sometime. Carter asks, "What about...?" and gestures vaguely in the direction of Rena's roommate. Rena chuckles that he'll have to be quieter time. "Me?!" Carter exclaims, and she says she thinks he yelled "stat!" She laughs really fakely. I don't like her. I know she's supposed to be young and awkward in the ways of love, but she's all...clingy. I don't know. She's trying too hard. Her smile is too forced. Don't like her. She watches him eat; he avoids her eye and asks whether she's working today. She says she has a lecture in the morning, but that she'll be in around 1 PM. He asks if she wants to have lunch, and she agrees. Bleh.
Weaver gives orders on a guy with one of those head immobilizer things, and then goes to the bed, where Luka is examining an indigent-looking gentleman Weaver recognizes and identifies as "Super Larry." Luka says he has a high fever but no source of infection. Weaver suggests that Luka check Super Larry for "aspiration pneumonia," since he had one last year. She wakes Super Larry up and tells Luka to get a head CT, since Super Larry has abrasions on his face, which could indicate that he fell down. Luka snorts that Weaver might have abrasions on her face, too, if she slept on a sidewalk. Instead, all she has is a little rash on her nose from sleeping in...never mind. Weaver shoots Luka a rueful smile of commiseration and is on her way out when Malik shows Det. Graham to the door and tells Weaver he was looking for her. Malik books, and Det. Graham says, "You ran off before I had a chance to talk to you this morning." "Why would you want to talk to me?" Weaver asks guardedly. Det. Graham says that Weaver saw Shannon, and Weaver confirms that it was she who called Mitchell for a Psych consult. "But you didn't stay with [Shannon]," Det. Graham asks. Weaver explains that there was a mass casualty situation, and that Shannon only had minor injuries. "So you effectively left Dr. Legaspi alone with the patient," Det. Graham pointedly surmises. Weaver agrees that she did. Det. Graham asks whether Weaver knew that Shannon's accused Mitchell of sexual assault. She did? Why did Mitchell say it was sexual harassment? Which was it? They're not the same! Behind Weaver, Luka pricks up his ears. Weaver shirtily replies, "Yes, and it's ridiculous. The young woman had psychological problems -- I mean, she tried to kill herself!" Det. Graham quietly says that they have to follow up the allegation, regardless, and asks, "What exactly is your relationship with Dr. Legaspi?" Weaver swallows her tongue, and then falters, "We're colleagues." Luka totally eavesdrops. Hee! Even Luka is not above office gossip! Det. Graham asks, "Do you live together?" "No," Weaver curtly replies. Det. Graham continues, "But you were at her house early this morning, and by the look of things --" "You know, to be honest, I really don't have time for this right now. I'm sorry," Weaver interrupts, and crutches away, clearly rattled. Will she get two more opportunities to deny Mitchell before the cock crows?
Weaver crutches out to the hall and into a supply closet, where she braces herself against the wall and all but hyperventilates.
Luka returns to the baby, who's now lying on the bed. She's wrapped in this weird mottled grey sheet that looks like a piece of newspaper. Glark suggests that they sell the baby as "fish and chip." Aw, the baby's really cute and she's gumming her finger. She doesn't look sick at all. Lisa tells Luka the baby's temperature. Luka, leaning over to listen to the baby's chest, says her temperature and pulse ox aren't "too bad," and, straightening up, adds that he can't hear any wheezing. Lisa says that she "appreciated some retractions." "A little," Luka allows, and tells Dark Hair that they'll get a chest x-ray to be sure. He gives Lisa some orders. Dark Hair looks mournful. She's got a cold, lady. Take it easy. Which is pretty much what Lisa says, pointing out that the baby doesn't have a fever and that her lungs are pretty clear. Dark Hair frets that the baby still seems to have trouble catching her breath. Lisa explains that babies tend to breathe through their noses, so that they sometimes have trouble when they're congested, but that Lisa will clear the baby's nose with some saline and she should be okay after that. She takes off, leaving Dark Hair with the baby.
Weaver waits anxiously in the reception area outside Romano's office. After a moment, she asks his assistant (Brenda, right?), "He knows that I'm here, right?" Brenda, twiddling a pencil, says that he does. Weaver gets up and starts pacing, staring at the door and complaining that Romano should know that she's working in the ER today, and that she shouldn't have to wait: "He made this sound like it was some kind of emergency!" Brenda quietly says that she's sure Weaver won't have much longer to wait. Weaver finally loses patience and snaps that Romano can page her when he's ready to see her. Naturally, this is the cue for Romano's office door to open, and for Kim to come out. Weaver, taken aback: "Dr. Legaspi!" Mitchell, breathily: "Kerry." Weaver stares at Mitchell like she's never seen her before. Mitchell moves past her, and Romano dicks, "What are you waiting for, Dr. Weaver? A written invitation?" They go into his office, and he closes the door.
Trauma room. This wicked ugly kid, wearing a stupid headband and a green shawl tied around his shoulders, has his hand suspended in this thing that looks like a teeny set of stirrups; each finger is clipped individually, with the palm outward so the doctor (in this case, Mark) can inspect the hand. Green Shawl writhes and grunts in pain until (I gather) Mark finds a bone and clicks it back into place. Green Shawl asks if that's it; Mark says that Green Shawl will need a splint, and that he needs to check another x-ray. On his way out, Mark asks Malik to finish the splint, and to order a chem seven, cholesterol, and a tox screen.
Mark wanders into the room, where "Dr." Dave Malucci is all Bill Nye-ing to a bored kid in a fur vest, "You get a skin infection on your forehead, and it can move into an infection around your brain." Mark asks Dr. Dave how it's going, and Dr. Dave says that it turns out that "The Weasel" is suffering a self-inflicted wound. "Weasel?" Mark repeats. The Weasel explains, "That's my ring name." Dr. Dave adds that The Weasel is a "basement wrestler." Mark jokes that he had an uncle who was a "closet ballerina." Okay, Hawkeye? Enough with the one-liners, for real. Mark asks whether Green Shawl is a wrestler, too; The Weasel calls Green Shawl "Mr. Midnight" (frankly, I think "The Green Shawl" is more ominous) and opines that he is "awesome." Mark asks The Weasel how he hurt himself, and Dr. Dave says that The Weasel sliced himself with a razor blade. Cut to The Weasel's face; we can see he has a wide horizontal cut just below his hairline. He explains that this practice is known as "blading," and that the fans love it. Mark asks whether Dr. Dave has the situation under control, and Dr. Dave says he does, and that he's trying to convince The Weasel not to cut himself in the head anymore. What would today's youth do without mentors? Mark suggests that Dr. Dave update The Weasel's tetanus while he's at it. Dr. Dave starts droning on about the myriad dangers of head cutting: "See? There's another risk -- tetanus. Then, of course, there's nerve damage, hepatitis, you could put your eye out, you know? And don't forget about scarring. Scarring's...that's not a good one. Chicks don't dig scarring. They don't dig that Frankenstein look, if you know what I'm saying. Right, Dr. Greene?" HA! Well, this chick doesn't. Mark glances up; he didn't hear the question. Dr. Dave mutters, "Never mind." Hee.
Romano's office. Romano tells Weaver she could have given him a heads up. Weaver lies that his telling her was the first she'd heard about "these allegations." Romano insists that she must have had some indication that Mitchell is a lesbian. Weaver deflects by asking what that has to do with anything. Romano opines that it's "the crux of the problem." Weaver evenly replies that the problem is a false accusation from a patient with psychological problems: "She could have just as easily made a similar indictment against one of the male doctors." Romano points out that the patient didn't charge any of the male doctors, and asks whether Weaver's ever had any other complaints about Mitchell in the ER. "Of course not," Weaver instantly replies. Romano continues, "And she's never displayed any unacceptable sexual behaviour that you've witnessed." Weaver's like, "Sexual? Yes. Unacceptable? Fuck no!" But she communicates this, to me alone, by staring straight ahead in stony silence. Romano's like, "Well?" Weaver snaps, "What do you think?" Romano fixes her with an appraising look and says he thinks she's holding out on him. Weaver tries to chuckle like she can't believe how ridiculous he's being, and, through her fake chuckle, barely audibly says, "Oh, please, Robert!" Romano presses that he thinks Weaver's trying to protect Mitchell. Weaver insists, "Of course I'm trying to protect her! You should be, too! She is a damn good doctor!" Romano blurts that he's calling for an emergency disciplinary hearing with Weaver and Anspaugh. Weaver protests that he knows Shannon's charges are a joke. Romano leans over the desk toward her and snaps, "No one's laughing, Kerry." "This is a witch hunt," Weaver mutters. Um, if it is? The witch is up in Surgery and her name is Elizabeth. Please, tie some stones to her and throw her in Lake Michigan to see if she drowns! Romano says it's damage control. Weaver starts to get up, asking, "Are we finished?" As she crutches off, Romano says, "Can I give you some friendly advice?" "No!" she barks.
Doc Magoo's. Carter and Rena have a flirty, inconsequential conversation, during which Carter relates an anecdote about trying to recreate a chariot scene from Spartacus using a couple of his grandfather's horses. Anyway, he changes the subject by asking how her seminar was. She corrects him: "It was a lecture on Developmental Psychology. Freud, Piaget, Kohlberg. It was boring." Carter says, "Blast from the past, huh? It's like being back in college." "I am in college," Rena replies. Carter adds, "No, I meant as an undergraduate." "I am," Rena repeats. Carter almost chokes on his coffee, but sets it down and says, "I thought you said you were a Pedes intern." She explains that she's doing a Child Life internship in the Pedes department. Carter looks like he's going to throw up. Rena goes on, "I need four hundred and eighty hours of clinical experience to certify, and I figured if I start now, I'll be done by the time I graduate." "Graduate!" Carter echoes, and asks, "How old are you?" "Twenty," Rena answers, adding, "in September." Oh, please. You say you're "twenty in September" when it's, like, August. Maybe July. I'm twenty-six; in March, I don't go around telling people I'm "twenty-seven...in November." Carter queenily presses his fingers to his lips and squeals, "You're nineteen?!" Rena says she is and asks, "Are you okay?" Carter takes a moment to let it sink in that when he started at County, Rena probably hadn't even had her first period yet. Yeah. Sicko.
ER. Lisa bustles in to check on Dark Hair and her baby. The baby gurgles cutely as Dark Hair dozes against the railing of the bed. Lisa checks the machines near the baby, and Dark Hair asks if she's doing better. Lisa says she still isn't getting as much air into her lungs as she'd like, and that, while it might just be a cold, they're going to do a chest x-ray to make sure. Dark Hair asks whether she may go with the baby to Radiology, and Lisa says she can. Dark Hair looks out of sorts; Lisa asks whether she's okay, and Dark Hair says that she hasn't slept much in the past few days. Lisa suggests that Dark Hair go get a cup of coffee while they wait for the baby to be transported to Radiology. Dark Hair agrees, and leaves. Lisa's writing on the baby's chart when Carter comes to the doorway and asks whether Lisa's got a minute to talk.
Lisa walks up to Carter and remains stationed in the doorway, but as he starts to tell her he just had lunch with Rena, he notices two other ER staffers standing directly behind Lisa, and steers her across the hall and into the opposite doorway -- no more than five or six feet from the doorway to the baby's room; Lisa still has her back to the baby, though. Carter continues by saying that, having just had lunch with Rena, he thinks there's a problem. Lisa guesses that Rena chews with her mouth open. Carter says that Rena's young. Lisa replies that Carter isn't exactly an old man, himself, and that he could stand to loosen up a little bit. Carter says, "She's really young." Lisa -- not realizing the primo Acapulco Gold gossip Carter's about to lay on her -- snorts, "What is she, like, twenty-three or something?" Carter flicks his head and smirks, and Lisa guesses, "Twenty-two?" Carter raises his eyebrows, and Lisa, starting to get the picture, disgustedly asks, "Is she twenty?" "In September," Carter replies. "She's a teenager? Carter!" hisses Lisa. Carter -- sheepish but still laughing and really being kind of horny despite the scandal of it all -- insists that he didn't know. Lisa can't believe he didn't ask Rena how old she was, but Carter argues that "women don't like to tell you their age." Lisa observes, "Well, she's not a woman -- she's a girl!" Carter simply says, "She's a woman. Believe me." At least he doesn't add, "If she wasn't, she is now," but Lisa gets the subtext anyway (because it was so subtle) and asks, "Did you sleep with her?" Carter, still sporting the Perma-Smirk, doesn't answer, but Lisa guesses that his silence means that he did, and she's scandalized. "I didn't know!" Carter tells her in a plaintive yet pleased tone. "You couldn't tell?" Lisa marvels. Um. Not to get into specifics, but I think that a nineteen-year-old girl might be a bit more...um...proficient in the ways of love than, say, a nineteen-year-old guy would. Or maybe it's just that an older guy would be able to gloss over said nineteen-year-old girl's shortcomings -- particularly if he's "lonely," as Carter told us he was last week. Lisa asks whether Carter broke up with Rena, and Carter says, "Not yet." Lisa asks what he's waiting for: "You're going to call your lawyer?" Carter argues, "She's very mature for her age! She's cool! She's fun, she's --" "She's Britney Spears's little sister," Lisa concludes for him. Carter says, "Thank you," and I'm not sure if he's sarcastically thanking her for the dis, or sincerely thanking her for putting things in perspective. Dark Hair calls Lisa, so Carter leaves. Okay, I have to say, no matter how close a friendship we're supposed to think Carter and Lisa have after they went to the benefit together and let the air out of Richard's car, I don't really buy that Carter would tell Lisa about Rena's youth. On the one hand, if he's planning to break up with her, he would rather Lisa not know anything about Rena -- especially if he's carrying a torch for Lisa herself. On the other, if he's planning to try to have a relationship with Rena, he wouldn't want Lisa to be prejudiced against Rena because of her age -- and also wouldn't want that gossip to get around the ER, especially since everyone already knew they'd slept together within a maximum of forty seconds after Amira read the card that came with the coffee basket. But, I know there had to be some reason for Lisa to leave the baby alone, and this was it.
Mr. Midnight makes mean faces at himself in a mirror near his bed. Okay, "acute acne"? The kid's got maybe three zits on each cheek. Please. Mark comes in and Mr. Midnight says he needs to go home. Mark tells him he ordered some tests, "the kind that show [he's] using steroids." Totally not the Dr. Dave approach! Based on the very little doctoring we've seen Dr. Dave do in the last few episodes -- I'm thinking particularly of the episode to which I've already linked above, in which Dr. Dave treated the guy who was trying to contract HIV from his partner -- we know that, if Mr. Midnight were Dr. Dave's patient, Dr. Dave would come in and ask him whether he was on steroids; in fact, that is exactly what he suggested Mark do, not to come in and bluff about some tests Mark totally didn't order, and be all stern and judgmental about it. Dr. Dave may be a clown, but he's a better doctor than Mark! MARK SUCKS! Anyway, sorry, I got off-track. Where was I? Oh, right. Mark was sucking. I wasn't off-track at all. Mr. Midnight says he doesn't know what Mark's talking about. Mark sucks, "I think you do. What you might not know is that you're putting yourself at risk for kidney failure, stroke, impotence...." Mr. Midnight sets his jaw and starts getting out of bed. Mark sucks, "Where are you going?" Mr. Midnight says he's going home. Mark sucks at him to sit back down, but Mr. Midnight ignores him and keeps trying to leave. Mark gets in Mr. Midnight's face and sucks, "You've got to stay here until your parents come and get you." Mr. Midnight demands, "You called my parents?" Mark sucks that The Weasel left, and that somebody's got to get Mr. Midnight home. Mr. Midnight loses it and goes on a little 'roid rampage, overturning stuff in the room, including Mark, who sucks onto the floor. Mr. Midnight strolls out into the hall right past Dr. Dave, who, seeing Mark sucking on the floor, runs over to help him. Mark shakes it off and sucks, "I'm okay! Just go get him! Don't let him leave!"
In the hall, Dr. Dave chases after Mr. Midnight, asking what he's doing. Mr. Midnight says he's leaving. Dr. Dave asks what Mr. Midnight is afraid of; he says he's not afraid of anything, but that he's had enough of the hospital. Dr. Dave tells him that they haven't finished working him up, and that they're just trying to help him. Mr. Midnight tells Dr. Dave to let him go.
Mr. Midnight stomps into the ambulance bay, with Dr. Dave walking backwards in front of him. Dr. Dave reaches out his arms, telling Mr. Midnight to stop and to take it easy, whereupon Mr. Midnight takes a swing at Dr. Dave, yelling at him to stay out of his way, and adding that he doesn't want to hurt Dr. Dave. Dr. Dave keeps his arms out in front of him in a gesture of surrender, and soothingly tells Mr. Midnight to relax and come back inside. Mr. Midnight continues fighting, saying that his dad will be mad if they don't let him leave. Dr. Dave says that Mr. Midnight Sr. would want them to take care of him. Mr. Midnight splutters that Mark is going to tell Mr. Midnight Sr. that Mr. Midnight is using steroids, and that his father will kill him if he finds out. Dr. Dave gently tells him that Mr. Midnight's dad doesn't have to find out, and Mr. Midnight insists that Mark (who has now rejoined the party) already said he was going to tell Mr. Midnight's parents -- which, in fairness, he didn't, though the threat was implied. Mark ineptly tries to calm Mr. Midnight down by sucking some more. Mr. Midnight ignores Mark and appeals directly to Dr. Dave: "Look. You don't know my father. He'll kill me if he finds out." Dr. Dave quietly replies, "You're right. I don't know your father. But I know the type. Trust me, okay? Okay? We'll work something out, right, Dr. Greene?" Mark sucks, "Yeah," whatever, and goes inside. Dr. Dave and Mr. Midnight (my favourite Robert Louis Stevenson story) shake on it.
In the ambulance bay, Mrs. May quaveringly describes May to a phalanx of reporters and TV cameras, and begs whoever has May to return her safely. Lisa watches, smoking and hugging herself and looking very very sad indeed. Luka comes out and tells her she should have her coat on. Without looking at him, she says she's okay. Luka asks her to come back inside, and she shakes her head no. Luka tries to entice her by suggesting that she help him "cast the twins who rode their stairs down the basement steps." Well, the best twins I can think of to cast for that role would be those irrepressible Olsen twins! Unless he means they need to put casts on the twins in question. Because that's different. Lisa tersely says, "You should get someone else." "I want you," he says simply. Is this the meta-statement about their relationship, and his feelings for her, that we've all been waiting for? Because it works for me. Fine. I am a Lisa/Luka 'shipper. I have been all along! HA HA HA HA HA! I said I wasn't, but I TOTALLY WAS! HA! SUCKERS! Oh, but this is a sad scene. Ahem. Right. Lisa looks down, chewing her lip, and politely asks him to leave her alone. Luka takes another step closer to her and leans his head against hers, saying, "I can't do that." See? COME ON. I knew it all along. Lisa sighs, "I lost that woman's baby." "No, you didn't," he says. "Yes, I did," she insists, and he repeats that she didn't. She looks like she's just barely holding back tears.
Dr. Dave looks at an x-ray while, in the room, a man angrily berates Mr. Midnight. Dr. Dave watches the exchange for a moment, and then comes in to ask, fairly neutrally, how they're doing. Mr. Midnight Sr. asks whether Dr. Dave's a nurse; Dr. Dave corrects him that he's a doctor, and Mr. Midnight Sr. demands, "You Greene?" Dr. Dave introduces himself, and Mr. Midnight Sr. complains that he was told to speak with Dr. Greene. Dr. Dave says that he was assisting Mark. Mr. Midnight Sr.'s all, whatever, is he going to be okay? Dr. Dave says that Mr. Midnight dislocated his hand, but that he'll be fine. Mr. Midnight Sr. smacks Mr. Midnight on the back of his skull and snaps, "What about his head?" Dr. Dave watches the blow, and...okay. Fine. Uncle. I like Dr. Dave, too. They snuck him up on me. They gave him the story lines that would leave Noah Wyle ass-deep in smirks and chuckles. Erik Palladino makes them work. He's somehow managed to eke a character out of a sum total of about thirty-seven lines this whole damn season. He's good, okay? HE'S GOOD. He's certainly not phoning it in the way Edwards is. And Erik Palladino does a very good job watching Mr. Midnight Sr. strike his son's head, absorbing the moment with his eyes, and then fixing Mr. Midnight Sr. in place with his gaze and quietly saying, "He didn't injure his head." Mr. Midnight Sr.'s all belligerent, "Oh, no? Jumping around in a costume like an idiot? Seems like a sign of brain damage if you ask me." Mr. Midnight scowls. Dr. Dave asks Mr. Midnight Sr. if they may speak in the hall. As they move toward the door, Mr. Midnight Sr. barks at Mr. Midnight to get his stuff together, since they'll be leaving immediately afterward.