Previously on ER, Luka didn't slow down his surging Dodge Penis when Erin asked him to, and they crashed. Eric rejected Abby's insistences that he lean on her. Alderman Bright encouraged Kerry to wipe his medical record clean of syphilis, so she did, and lied to Susan that he was negative for the STD. Carter was Pratt's confidant with the truth about Leon's brain damage.
Zavery is quite the little monkey. Seriously. He's crawling around the gurney making noises and chomping at Abby Lockhart's arm; thank God he's too young to know that monkeys like to throw their own feces. Cheerfully, Zavery's mother says he fell while trying to climb their ficus plant, and she hadn't stopped him because their therapist suggested that letting him enact his simian impulses would be good for him. Abby asks Dr. Susan Lewis to check him for a corneal abrasion, and trucks him off to a room.
Meanwhile, Susan stops at the bedside of a shaggy-haired cutie named Aidan. "Oh, you're a wrestler!" Susan says, recognizing the uniform sitting to him. "Yeah," he says. "What do you do?" Susan duhs that she's a doctor, doofus, but he means what does she do to stay in shape -- to which Susan of course responds with a crack about lifting margarita pitchers. I find it amusing that Abby, an alcoholic, is befriending a woman whose every joke revolves around how much she drinks.
We jump to Luka Kovac . He's treating a rasping forty-ish man, listening to his chest sounds. "Bastards," the man huffs. "It's from the cigarettes, isn't it?" Luka confirms that the patient does indeed have a spreading case of cancer. "I need you to write me up a full disclosure, so I can file a lawsuit against the tobacco company," barks the man. Luka points out that the man's been sucking the tar out of cigarettes since he was a teenager, and so logically his love of smoky fellatio might have some bearing on his condition. "You should concentrate on managing your disease, making the most of the time you have left," Luka advises. "I get it -- this is just the HMOs and Big Business covering each other's asses," the man grouses. "Screw you, pal. I'll see you in court." Luka's all, Nice try, Cancer Man, but you'll kick off long before you can kick it on the witness stand. Then, he storms away -- right into Dr. Kerry Weaver. "What was that all about?" she asks. "Stupidity," Luka answers. "On whose part? His, or yours?" she asks, dryly. Fed up, Luka snarls that he can't believe how litigious Americans are, and how little they like to accept blame for their own fates. Apparently, only altruists live in Croatia. "If you don't like it, go back to Croatia," Frank snaps. "There's not nearly as many lawyers [there]. Lots more land mines, though."
Dr. Robert Romano crosses the lobby in search of Weaver, who's standing behind the front desk. "Don't start, Robert," she begins. "I've got a full..." Full lips, apparently, because Romano grabs her skull and plants a crushing kiss on her. Unfortunately, no one's around to see it, or if they are, they don't care. Weaver shoves Romano away, startled but not alarmed. "Who knew you were such a conniving, manipulative seductress?" he crows. "Well, I did, actually, but you have out-Weavered yourself this time." You know, it's a shame Weaver is a lesbian. She and Romano could've had some hot sex full of mutual disgust and lust, and post-coital self-loathing. Yum. I'd watch that. Romano exposits to a bewildered Weaver that Alderman Bright pulled $2.4 million out of his hat and allotted it to County General. I'm still really unsure why or how that happened, since the show's pointedly made the distinction between "city" and "county" before, and as far as I know the alderman is a City of Chicago official. But hey, whatever. Romano commends her on managing to treat Bright without irreparably breaking him -- "I know, I'm as surprised as you are," he chortles -- and informs Weaver that the alderman will drop by the hospital for a photo opportunity later that afternoon. "Make sure you broom all these degenerates," Romano says, waving a disdainful arm around the waiting room. "These patients are the reason why we're getting the funding," Weaver insists. Romano bites his lip. "Don't ruin this for me!" he whines.
At home, Greg Pratt is lifting weights and listening to music -- the How To Show Off Your Biceps Without Really Trying soundtrack. Leon bangs frantically on the door, because everything he does has to be frantic. "It's an emergency!" he wails, because everything he says has to be wailed. Pratt scampers to the door and opens it to discover that Leon brought home the notorious Dukey -- whose name is now Biz, for some inane reason. Biz has a gunshot wound in his chest. "Get your doctor stuff...fix him up, G, like you fixed me!" pleads Leon. Pratt rolls his eyes, panicking while trying to explain that this is a slightly more serious wound than Leon's ass hole. "No hospitals," Biz begs. "They'll be looking for me." It dawns on Pratt that this is an ill-gotten gunshot wound. "It was an accident," Leon whimpers. "We were gonna take some beers from the liquor store and then the security guard showed up, and people started shooting!" Pratt can't believe his brother was involved in an armed robbery. He angrily sends Leon inside and orders him to stay away from the windows and ignore the phone and any knocks at the door. Leon blubbers. "Do you understand me?" Pratt shouts. "Leon!" We fade to black hoping that Leon begins to understand things real soon, lest he drive us insane with his banshee routine.
Romano opens up the segment for us by walking into the ER doctors' lounge. He finds Michael Gallant in there cramming, and not only manages to make pleasant small talk, but waxes poetic about abdomen-related reading. Satan turns to one of his minions and says, "Is there a draft in here?" Suddenly, Romano's left arm fumbles the coffee cup, which falls to the floor. It shatters, as does Romano's demeanor. Gallant is completely at a loss for what to do, so he awkwardly offers to help; when that is declined, he excuses himself hurriedly in search of Housekeeping. Romano is left alone, staring at his hand, which is bent into a weak claw that he can barely move. He fervently wishes he's gotten a bionic arm instead of his crappy old severed one.
Dr. John Carter joins Luka and Abby in attending to a woman named Brenda who got her hand caught in a fur trap. Abby exposits that Brenda was protesting the cruelty of fur trapping when she got hurt by the fur trap, and licks the droppings of self-satisfaction dripping from her smirking maw. "Good thing you didn't try to chew it off," Carter cracks. Brenda is pretty sure this isn't funny, and preaches about the cruelty of trapping animals for the fur trade. I wonder if someone on the show is not a PeTA fan, because this scene sort of feels like they're bagging on fur protesters. Carter moves to Luka's side to help remove the trap. "So what's it going to be, huh?" Luka asks. "Chechnya, or the Congo?" Abby's head jerks up. Carter looks utterly guilty, like he knows he's going to get reamed for this later. "Um, uh, I'm still thinking about it," he says evasively. "Thinking about what?" Abby asks, a pointed and annoyed smile on her face. Luka pipes up that Carter's going off to work a stint with Alliance de Medicine Internacional. Abby cocks an eyebrow and offers a mordant, "Oh, really." Carter tries to brush it off as a whim, but Luka, seeming to enjoy seizing on this idea, avers, "Oh, he's going. I've done it three times, and it makes what we do here look like...I don't know." Carter yanks off the fur trap and curtly asks Luka if he may be excused to go get a ten-second head start on Abby. He exits, and sure enough, she follows after less than a five count. Luka has the grace to look momentarily chagrined, although I don't think he did anything intentionally.
Romano tails his doctor through the hospital, barking that he's done physical therapy every day since his arm got choppered, yet he's still not fully rehabbed. The doctor feeds him a bunch of quasi-inspirational bull about how patience and attitude are two important ingredients to recovery, yet this patient's attitude is more along the lines of "Fix the left hand, or the right fist is going to rock your world." Romano complains that the little strength he had in the hand is diminished, and sensory function is nonexistent. Dr. Ron Obvious points out that, in case it escaped Romano's memory, his arm was severed. "I'm not some poor schmuck who's worried about how he's going to hold his beer can while he whacks away watching TV," Romano seethes. Wow. Can they say that on television? I guess they can. "I want my arm back," he finishes. The doctor notes that it's a complete miracle he has a real flesh arm at all, considering it got puréed on the roof.
"Chechnya?" Abby drawls. Carter pretends they've discussed this, then waits until Abby can't see him to bite his lip and shoot the ceiling a "Could you drop on me now, please?" look. "Remember when I said I wanted to try practicing medicine abroad?" he offers. Naturally, he can't just clear this up in two seconds by saying, "I have a fleeting interest and I went to Luka for more information -- it means nothing right now." No, he has to just go ahead and prolong it by being vague. Thanks, Carter. Thanks for the bitch-slap. "I thought you meant Paris," she snorts. Yeah, those needy Parisians could sure use a dose of healing man-boy angst, Carter-style.
Carter and Abby bicker their way to the front desk, where Carter notices a nasty smell. "Dr. Lewis was hit with flying feces," Frank says. Sure enough, Susan turns around and "ta-da"s, pointing to an ugly brown splotch on her breast. Oh my God. Although, the writers have been shitting on her all season, so I suppose it's only natural that they'd eventually get literal about it. A passing Jing-Mei "Deb" Chen giggles that clipboards make good shit shields. Susan nods, embarrassed and amused, and grabs the black sweater Chen's proffering so that she can run off and de-poo.
Gallant appears to announce that Ed Asner is in the building. There is much rejoicing.
Susan hands off an incoming trauma to Luka so that she can continue on her path to poo sovereignty. On the way, she's cornered by a cop, who asks if a fellow officer felled during a robbery has been brought to County. She's not sure, so she puts Frank on the case -- and bumps smack into Romano, yet another obstacle in her neverending quest for fecal freedom. "Are you down here for a surgical consult?" she asks, surprised. "No, I heard Weaver was teaching a jazzercise class out in the ambulance bay," he quips. Susan rolls her eyes. "Okay, I didn't know you were doing this again," she amends. "You don't have to jump all over me." Romano replies softly, "Wouldn't think of it," and darn it, he almost sounds gracious. Based on that, and the fact that he ignored the giant, reeking splatter stain on her shirt, I fear our Romano is losing his edge.
Susan introduces Romano to the wrestler, Aidan, and points out an abscess on his right buttock. Romano whistles. At the abscess, people, not at the buttock. That was me you heard whistling at the buttock. "If you'd enjoy having testicles bigger than raisins, I'd suggest you don't start using again," Romano warns him. Aidan looks frightened. Maybe he didn't know testicles came in sizes bigger than "raisin." Susan explains, for the benefit of the world, that she didn't drain the abscess because she felt a deep perirectal component to it. Hot. "We all know what a big pain in the ass that can be," Romano cracks. "Good call." He exposits that Aidan's infection has spread up his rectum (which sounds naughtier than it is), and that Aidan needs surgery to correct it. "Do you want me to get Corday?" Susan offers. Romano shrugs this off. "Who's going to do the actual surgery?" she asks, curiously, "I'll supervise one of my residents," he replies blithely. "That's what I was worried about," Susan sighs under her breath as Romano wheels Aidan away.
Weaver accompanies Officer Sutter and a paramedic into the hospital. Sutter heard four shots, but only felt two bullets. Weaver trucks him toward Trauma Yellow. "Somebody call Jenny," rasps Sutter. His officer buddies muster all the regular false cheer, like, "You can call her yourself, bucko," and whatnot, while Weaver shouts for Susan to page Elizabeth.
Carter and Gallant arrive at Ed Asner's bedside. He seems disoriented. "Do you know where you are?" they shout. He jolts into consciousness. "I got patients," he moans. Gallant tells Carter that Ed's AccuCheck registered at over four hundred. Four hundred? No! Nooooo! Not Ed! Say it ain't so! Of course, I have no idea what that means. I presume it's a blood-sugar count or something, but whatever. Medical jargon is a friend to no recapper.
We hop to Zavery, who leaps around his exam room with the manic lunacy of a really, really weird kid who thinks he's a monkey. Convenient, because that's exactly what he is. Jackpot! He's a crackpot. Abby's vain attempts to get him to lie still are rewarded with his plunge under the bed. "Where's his mom?" Susan asks, entering. "She had to make a phone call," Abby replies skeptically. "To the adoption agency, if she's smart," Susan cracks. Okay, Zavery's under the bed, and he's in simian mode, but he's not a deaf monkey. Sheesh. Abby briefly begins to lose her temper. "Forget it," Susan sighs loudly. "I can't use the Gorillascope if you won't come out!" Abby catches herself and plays along. "Oh, right, you'll have to bring it back to the zoo," she says sadly. Zavery perks up and leaps out and on to the bed, cooperating. Abby puts drops in his eye -- "Yellow banana medicine," she calls it kindly -- and flips off the lights so that Susan can use the Wood's lamp, which shines black light into the eye to check for corneal abrasions. Lucky for Zavery, everything is fine. Except for his name. As Susan lowers the scope, Abby's gaze is drawn to a messy, large white stain between and slightly above her friend's chest. "Susan..." she begins, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Is that semen?" Confused, Susan stares at it. She hadn't noticed. Which is sort of asinine, because the stain is on a black sweater, and the spooge stain is really crusty-looking, which means it ought to be totally visible without the help of a black light. "It's not my sweater," Susan realizes, grossing herself out even further. And so it would appear that Pratt, the hospital intern, Lewinsky-ed all over Chen's chest. That's so charming! His aim is terrible, and while I'm discussing this -- Chen, girl, where was your mouth? Jebus.
Carter greets an ambulance that's unloading a twenty-two-year-old man with a gunshot wound -- and it's Biz, who's followed out of the rig by Pratt. He claims he found Biz. "Where?" Carter asks. "What difference does it make? I'm being a Good Samaritan," Pratt snaps. "Got a problem with that?"
Inside, Carter asks if Biz is a friend of Pratt's. "No," Pratt insists They load him into Trauma Green while yelling for blood and a thoraseal and all that good life-saving stuff. A police offer positions himself inside the trauma room. "What's with the boys in blue?" Pratt asks nervously. "A cop got shot. Might be this guy right here," Carter explains. Pratt peers into Trauma Yellow -- where Officer Sutter lies -- and pales. We fade to black not really caring, because we're more concerned with whether the NBC vomit comet will get trotted out to further befoul Susan with the dubious Triple Crown of Fluid Stains honor.
In Trauma Yellow, Dr. Elizabeth Corday barks through the phone that she needs a vascular surgeon as soon as possible. She's told it'll take longer than she expects, which pisses her off and causes her to scream for someone to hang up the bloody phone. Okay, well, welcome back from that hiatus, Lizzie. One of the cops -- let's call the cops Tweedledee and Tweedledum -- shouts at Sutter, "Did you get a look at the shooter?" Sutter moans that there were three perps, but that he didn't see which one pulled the trigger. "What about the guy door?" Tweedledee asks. Through the swinging doors, he shouts for Pratt to move for a second so that Sutter can get a clear look at Biz. Pratt quite rightly tells him to buzz off, because there's doctoring happening here, but Tweedledee is in a self-righteous snit about his cop friend's life-threatening leg wound. "[Biz is] not going anywhere," Luka booms to end the discussion. The cop's all freaked that Biz's two partners in crime will get away with...well, not murder, but a definite malicious assault on a lawful leg. Just then, Weaver finds metal fragments floating around, meaning that the clock is ticking and Sutter needs surgery, stat.
So Lizzie wanders into Trauma Green and tells Pratt that Sutter needs the operating room pretty badly, and that they only have one free spot and one anesthesiologist. Carter counters with his patient's hemorrhaging -- he's leaking 500 ccs and counting -- but Pratt pipes up that the rule of thumb is, it's not urgent until he's oozing at least twice that much. "This guy's at 900 [now] but he's slowing down," Pratt insists. Officer Random Tertiary Cop, hovering over the bed, barks, "You're not thinking of taking up this lowlife first, are you?" Carter reminds him that it's not about who you are, but how badly you're hurt; this doesn't go over well with Officer Fuck With One Cop And You Fuck With Them All. My notes here actually say, "Ooookay, officer." Elizabeth says it'll be another thirty minutes before another OR frees up for Biz, and as she and Carter haggle, Pratt declares that the bleeding has stopped due to clotting. "I'll tell her to send up the cop," says Lizzie. Carter glares at Pratt and orders him to keep an eye on the bleeding, because if that sucker pumps out 1000 more ccs in two hours, he's going upstairs -- and not to Heaven, but to OR Hell. Pratt watches them wheel away Sutter, and frowns. "When's [Biz] going to be able to answer some questions?" Tweedledee asks angrily. "I'll let you know," pouts Pratt. Then he rips off his goggles, because that's what actors do with their props.
A young girl with Abby and Susan complains that she feels nauseated. They wonder if she's pregnant. "I don't even talk to guys unless I have to," she whines. While they press on her belly, Abby smirks, "Are you going to say anything?" They're talking about the s-"Pratt"-er stain on Chen's sweater. Susan winces that she's not sure how, exactly, to broach the subject, much less what to say. "It's got to be something else," she reasons. Abby giggles. "It's just so wrong," Susan blechs. Yes, it is. There's no way Chen would not know about a cum stain on her sweater, much less wear it to work and then loan it to someone. Someone blows a wad on your breasts, you remember it. I'm just saying. Susan remembers that she's treating a patient and asks said patient whether she's got a history of gallstones in the family. "No. Can I die from gallstones?" panics the girl. Susan laughs and assures her she can't, then promises to run tests. She and Abby leave. "The real question is, who does it belong to?" Abby whispers. "Pratt?" Susan shudders. "Frank?" Abby adds. Susan gags. "Jerry?" Abby finishes. Susan outright chokes. "Stop it, you're creeping me out!" she snorts. A mucus-storm bursts right over Susan's head.
In the OR, Romano is guiding a resident called Jensen through Aidan's abscess surgery. "This guy reeks," Jensen observes. Well, yeah. You're cutting up his ass and poking at his innards. Those aren't flowers in there, pal. "Ah, the copper and Clorox aroma of a vigorous mixed bacterial infection," Romano sing-songs. "Smells like surgery." He tries to guide Jensen through the procedure, but Jensen screws up something; I think he moves in the wrong direction and almost compromises the gluteal artery. "I'm having a hard time locating..." panics Jensen. Romano grabs one of the instruments with his right hand, reaching across his body, and tries to both take control and assist, and it leads to more tomfoolery. Jensen shits a brick. "No no no, stop!" Romano yells. Shirley not-so-subtly offers to get Elizabeth. "No," Romano snaps. Jensen shits a small fortress.
Elizabeth is nearby working on Sutter's leg. She's informed that a new vascular surgeon named Dr. Dorset is on the way to help her; on cue, he enters. "Nice of you to finally join us, Dr. Dorset," Elizabeth says, splitting her infinitive like it's a ribcage. "You're in for a long night." Dorset -- played by Bruno Campos, last of NBC's Jesse -- grins and coos, "They call me Fast Eddie for a reason. Several, in fact." Elizabeth is startled. Dorsey announces that he's going to perform a Fogerty embolectomy to remove the shards, which entails getting really drunk and singing "Bad Moon Rising." Elizabeth acts sort of impressed. "I prefer [calling it a] Dorset bulletectomy," Dorset smarms. He inflates a tiny bulb at the end of a long, narrow tube that looks almost like a piece of wire. "Hey, somebody's glad to see me," Dorset cracks as the balloon gets larger. Elizabeth rolls her eyes and stares at her nurses as if to say, "This man thinks he has a dick of gold." Dorset feeds the Fogerty thing into a catheter in Sutter's leg and puts the end of the tube in Elizabeth's hand. He keeps his palm on it, too, as he guides her, so that she can feel what's going on inside the leg. They show this with a lot of close-ups on their touching hands -- her bloodied gloves add an extra-sexy touch, of course -- and Elizabeth's confused, darting eyes. Dorset uses words like "harder" and "feel that right there...yeah" and "rupture," and it's all very erotic until they show close-ups of the nasty red wound that's gaping and raw and nauseous. He then pulls out -- heh -- and the bullet shard clinks into the pan Shirley's holding. "Thank you! I'll be here all week, and don't forget to tip your waitress," he says, cheerfully, exiting. Elizabeth is dumbfounded, and totally hot for his sexy smooth surgeon ass.
Luka passes Erin Harkins in the hallway and seems to duck away from her, watching as Susan signs off on her rotation. I think. She's headed to Pediatrics, I think; Susan wishes her luck and then flees to dodge a giant ball of earwax that's on a mission to flatten her. Erin and Gallant make an ambiguous study date that looks awfully sweet and giggly. Ugh. And also, aw, strangely enough. Luka pops out of the shadows when Erin is finally alone. "Feeling better?" he asks. "Compared to the last time you saw me, yeah," she says pointedly. Then she makes him sign off on her rotation, too, so that she's done with the ER for good. She tries to get away without any other interaction, but Luka stops her again. "I never got a chance to talk to you..." he begins. "I was in the hospital for three weeks," she snaps. Luka apologizes, saying he was having a bad time -- which I'm sure absolutely mends the rift; he was really stressed, and her liver was sliced up courtesy of the Croatian death-penis chauffer, so let's just call it even. "I never meant to hurt you," Luka insists softly. "Then you should've slowed down," she replies icily.
Pratt tries to reach Leon, but he isn't answering, which makes sense given that Pratt instructed him not to answer the phone. He spies Tweedledee and Tweedledum chasing after him, so he hangs up abruptly and walks the other way. No luck. "What's the word on Sutter?" they ask. Pratt shrugs that he's still in surgery. Tweedledee asks whether Biz had a gun when they brought him in; Pratt shrugs again that he doesn't know. He's acting shifty and nervous, which is positively the best way to throw the cops off your scent. "You just found him in the street?" Tweedledum asks. "Yeah," Pratt says. "Was there anyone with him? Did you hear gunshots?" Tweedledee presses. Pratt snorts no to both. Then he's called to Trauma Green, where Biz is bleeding like a madman. Pratt is saved by the death knell. But first, for good measure, he stares at the cops so that we know he's extremely stressed about all this. Extremely. Stressed.
"So when are you leaving me?" Abby asks blithely, passing Carter in the hall. God, Abby, he's announced his desire to help mankind for two weeks, and it's all about you, right? Carter stares at her. "Me," Abby adds. "Me on the rocks with a slice of me." Carter shrugs that he hasn't decided when he's going, or even if he's doing. "Me Airlines is pleased to announce the arrival of flight M.E. into Me Airport," Abby says. Carter shrugs that Luka was just being overenthusiastic because he's such an advocate of the program. Pause. "You thought it was cool when he went," Carter points out, still smiling. "He went home to his country, and he didn't have a girlfriend asking him not to go, nor did he have tickets to It's Raining Me: The Abby Lockhart Variety Hour," Abby spits. "You could come with me," Carter suggests. "Like I don't have enough drama in my life already," she snorts. Right. Self-made drama, sluthole.
Abby and Carter stop in front of Ed Asner. "If it isn't the Ken and Barbie of the medical world," Ed sighs. "You look better," Carter observes. "I am better," he retorts. "Hello, beautiful." Abby smiles a tolerant hello. Gallant informs him that his blood-sugar was over 600 but that blah blah blah medicalcakes. "I could've told you that," Ed sniffs. "Type II diabetics don't get ketoacidosis." Carter looks impressed, then warns him to take his meds if he wants to avoid a hypersmolar coma. Ed gets a self-righteous look in his eye and says he gave his meds to a patient who couldn't afford his own. Carter is moved, until he's called to Trauma Green, at which point he moves away.
Bursting into Trauma Green, Carter is greeted with a fading, bleeding Biz. Long story short, Biz goes into v-tach, and while the dynamic duo tries resuscitating him, Abby shows up at the door with Leon in tow. "You shouldn't be here!" Pratt shouts. "Get out!" Leon's wailing and whining, so Pratt orders Abby to put him in a room, lying that Leon's there for a wound check and that she should be sure to give him a gown. "Is he going to die, G?" Leon shrieks. "Shut the hell up and get out of here," Pratt says, and for once, he's the voice of a nation. As Carter announces that Biz's heart is empty -- of emotion! Of love! Of honesty! Oh, and of blood -- Pratt stares worriedly at Leon's retreating figure, wondering how the hell he got himself into this storyline mess. We fade to black shoving pins into our TPTB voodoo dolls.
Back in Trauma Green, they've cracked Biz's chest and are trying to restart his heart the old-fashioned way: with pornography. Or, with internal paddles. Whatever. Biz has been down for thirty-five minutes, though, and as he hits asystole, Pratt is ready to call the death. Carter suggests that they could try more epi, because Biz is young and vital and scrappy, but Pratt's totally content with ending this whole thing and kicking Biz to the morgue. Carter shrugs his assent, so clearly he wasn't too convinced that Biz was going to jump back to life. "Is his family here?" Carter asks. "I don' t know," Pratt pouts, stomping out to talk to Leon. Carter watches; we don't hear what Pratt says, but the closed-captioners are blessed with ESP and claim that Pratt is telling Leon that Biz has moved on to The Great Beyond, joining Elvis, 2Pac, and one Norwegian Blue parrot.
"Any slower and he's going to heal before you can sew him up," Romano snaps at Jensen. Elizabeth enters, holding a mask over her nose and mouth, and watches this with concern. "Another one of your inspirational speeches, Robert?" she says archly. "I heard you were having some difficulties." Romano spits that she heard wrong. "Apparently," she says coolly. "I didn't realize you were back on a surgical rotation." Romano bristles. "I'm just assisting Jensen," he says through clenched teeth. "Oh. How are we doing, Jensen?" Elizabeth asks lightly. "Fine, thank you," Jensen says, but the Great Wall of Dung he's deposited behind him would indicate otherwise. Elizabeth calmly cautions him about nerves and arteries running dangerously close to his incision, and Romano grits his teeth in anger. "And the head bone's connected to the what again?" he sneers. Elizabeth sets her jaw -- or so we assume, as her mouth is obscured -- and politely replies, "Such a shame for this young man to come in with an abscess and go home with a dropped foot because of a severed sciatic nerve." Romano loses it. "Look, I've figured out a way you can help me: leave." Glaring at Romano first in anger, then in abject concern, Elizabeth backs away obediently. Romano is angry, affronted, and miserable. Jensen is shitting entire New England villages.
Luka, Susan, and Abby treat a girl named Sydney who needed her stomach pumped. "What did she take?" they ask her friend, Fiona. But the tox screen is negative, so Abby examines the stomach contents and detects cherries and nuts. Hee. "I smell chocolate," Susan sniffs. Fiona breaks down and admits that Sydney's boyfriend cheated on her, so she binged on banana splits. "You called 911?" Luka seethes. "I didn't -- she did," Fiona insists. "She wanted her stomach pumped. She must've eaten, like, 50,000 calories. Sometimes she binges and purges." She delivers this so matter-of-factly, it's sad. Luka shouts that, because of all the purging, we need to pause and eulogize Sydney's gag reflex. Fiona shrugs. "Clearly she has an eating disorder," Susan says, trying to calm everyone down. "No, I'll tell you what an eating disorder is," Luka intones. "When a mother hasn't eaten in six days because she's giving what little food she has to her three children." Way to preach, Luka. Seriously, did the Bishop reincarnate himself in Luka's voice box? He's irate at this shallow, callow waste of time, and storms out in a pious tizzy. "It's cheaper than liposuction," Fiona defends testily.
Pratt goes to check on Leon, and catches Carter in the room. Faintly, we hear Carter say, "Was he a friend of yours?" before Pratt bursts into the room. There's some banter indicating that Carter knows Leon's not actually there for a wound check. "He seems kind of shaken up about Biz," Carter says, lightly. "That's your friend's name, right? Biz?" Pratt stiffly asks John Carter, Boy Detective, to leave. "Come find me when you're done," Carter orders him.
Once alone, Pratt grills Leon on whether he admitted knowing Biz. "No! I don't know," Leon weeps. "Maybe. If I did, it was an accident." Pratt groans that Leon is a series of simple accidents. "You told me it was security guard that shot him," Pratt wails. "It wasn't a security guard -- it was a cop!" Leon whimpers that he didn't get a good look; he was scared, because it all happened so fast. "Did you have a gun?" Pratt presses. "It was Biz's idea...I don't remember, G, everyone started shooting! I'm sorry, G, I don't want to go to jail, don't let them put me in jail!" Pratt looks like he's suppressing the urge to wring Leon's neck.
Susan finds Luka. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say you're having a bad day," she offers pleasantly. Luka barks that he's sick of treating patients who think pigging out is an emergency. "I'm just tired of it," he grumbles, stomping away. Susan whispers that she thinks Abby should talk to him. "He seems a little depressed," she notes. "He's European -- that's his baseline," Abby replies. The thing is, that comment is totally off-base and kind of stupid, but I don't think it came from an evil place. I think it was just a quip. A dumb one, sure, but still a quip, and I cracked a smile even though I think it's bogus. Why is that? I have no idea. It might be that I'm easy, or it might be that I'm chugging cider like it's oxygen. Abby then pouts that she's still mad at Luka for planting the "adventure doc idea" in Carter's mind. Because God forbid her boyfriend should have an altruistic impulse.
Elizabeth shows up at the desk so that Dr. Dorset can approach her, in front of a giggly and girlish Abby and Susan, and invite her out for coffee. Elizabeth is floored. "I appreciate the offer," she says, stilted, "but to be honest, I'm swamped at the moment, so perhaps some other time." Dorset leans toward her, grinning. "I'm going to hold you to that," he says, seriously. Elizabeth flushes a tad as the trio of girls watches him go. Her hair is darker, by the way -- it's a darker red; less orange in it. Abby whispers that he was super-cute. Elizabeth stares at them. "Was I rude?" she asks, nervously. They insist that she wasn't. Lizzie inches toward them. "Problem is, I go home half-expecting Mark to be playing with Ella in the back yard," she admits sheepishly. "It's been...a long time since I...you know...talked to another man." She bites her lip cutely; it's sweet to see her being human rather than a robotic bitch. "It was only coffee," she frets. Susan gently assures Elizabeth that Mark would want her to get on with her life. Elizabeth chews on this and likes how it tastes. "I also think that if a good-looking guy is interested in you and you're not interested in him, the least you can do is introduce me," Susan adds. Elizabeth chuckles. "Hmm, thank you," she says, walking away beaming. Abby and Susan laugh together. See, that was kind of a nice moment. More of that, please.
As Weaver tries to redirect a confused patient, she bumps smack into Alderman Bright, the conjurer of funds. He glad-hands the patient, who blinks blankly at him. Weaver ushers the patient away, because it's all too boring. "I guess I owe you a big thank-you," she begins awkwardly. "You provide an invaluable service," he speeches. "It's the least I could do." Weaver says she hopes the funding was merit-based...and doesn't really finish her thought, because Bright offers her a nicely spit-shined answer. "Did you give me special treatment?" he says, innocently. "Of course you did. From where I stand, you give everyone who comes through these doors special treatment." There's blathering about rewarding dedication, and Weaver looks like she's trying hard to buy into all this, but her patient runs away and she needs to chase her. Whatever. The alderman is kinda dicey.
Abby corners Carter in the lounge and hands him an envelope. "Someone dropped this off for you and made me promise to give it to you personally," Abby grins. "I'm thinking nude blackmail photos." Carter sighs. "Not again," he jokes. Abby studies him, then asks if his sudden humanitarian urge is because he met Ed Asner and doesn't feel like enough of a do-gooder compared to the old man. Because, again, Carter's not allowed to have a genuinely good impulse, because Abby generally does not believe in such things. Carter admits that Ed might have a small bit to do with his whim. "Why didn't you talk to me about it?" Abby frets. Carter insists that he's not going anywhere just yet; she complains again that Luka knew about it, and worries that the Congo and Chechnya are dangerous places, but mercifully, the whining stops because it's time to jump to another conversation entirely. There's a lot of that in this episode.
Carter has led them to Ed, and cautions the older man to go back on the insulin. "I'd be lucky to find four times during the week to do that," Ed scoffs, referring to a complex medication schedule Carter has laid out. He suggests that Ed hire an assistant, and whips a check out of the envelope Abby had given him. Ed tries to refuse it. "For one thing, it's got too many zeroes," he notes. Abby cranes her neck to get a better look at the check, but Carter shoves it toward Ed and beams that he can use the money to buy equipment and pay a staff. Ed accepts it gingerly. "I'm not going to have to name the place after you, am I?" he crabs. Carter shakes his head, then cracks that the Carter Family Clinic is kind of catchy. Yeah, I'm sure Gamma would be thrilled to her frosted tips at the idea.
Luka informs Weaver that he's taking six days off. Weaver in turn informs Luka that he will do no such thing, because he's lucky to have a job there still, much less have vacation time to take. Luka flatly states that he needs to sort himself out. "And you do it on your own time," Weaver brats. So Luka, ever the mature one this season, throws down his stuff and walks away, straight past an incoming trauma. He is a man on a mission, and that mission is to take off his makeup and raid the craft-services table.
Abby gives chase. "He seems pissed," says a voice in the ambulance bay. Abby stops dead in her tracks when she sees Eric gazing at her. "I've been out here almost two hours," he says. "I figured you couldn't go that long without a cigarette." Abby gapes at him. "What are you doing here?" she chokes. We fade to black thinking that if we weren't recapping the episode, this wouldn't make us want to stay tuned and find out what he's doing there, because we can guess he's there to eat crow, because we are familiar with television and its many -- by which I mean, few -- variant plots.
Abby and Eric are sitting at Doc Magoo's having some coffee. Eric offers to buy Abby some food, but she demurs, insisting that she's fine with coffee and cupping it like it's the nectar of life. Which we all know is Diet Coke, so nice try, Abby. "Good, I need the gas money," Eric jokes. "How's Carter?" Abby nods that he's fine. "I like him," Eric offers. "Me too," Abby says, keeping a safe emotional distance by sighing loudly and averting her eyes. "It was the disease," Eric admits gently. "I was scared. I was afraid that I was going to end up like Mom." Abby shifts her gaze to his face, studying him with trepidation. "I didn't want you to see me like that -- like Maggie," Eric continues. "I never meant to hurt you. If it wasn't for you, I don't know where I'd be." Abby is still silent, as if willing him to continue extolling her greater qualities and the very depth and breadth of her rightness. Eric obliges by talking about how she did nothing but protect him, and all he did was let her down. "That's not true," Abby whispers. "That could never be true." Sadly, Eric stares at the table and wishes that he could be eight again, because even when things got bad -- and they did -- he knew Abby would be there for him to make it right. "And I always will be," she shrugs, biting back tears. Eric considers this. "Yeah, but no one's ever there for you," he decides. "I turned my back on you, after everything that you did for me, and for Mom, and that was a really crappy thing to do." Smiling, Abby swears he doesn't have to apologize, but Eric wants to. "I love you, Abby," he says passionately. She seems happy for a second, and moved, yet still wary. Eric grins adorably at her. "You deserve a better family," he announces. This elicits a chuckle from her, which in turn makes Eric gleeful, and it's sort of sweet even if I don't want him to be smooching her booty quite so fervently. Also, Abby doesn't deny that she thinks she deserves a better family. You know she's thinking, "Damn skippy, babe." Abby begins to bite back a sentence, then stops and goes for it. "It's not over, you know," she reminds him. "Yeah, I know," he says ruefully. Then, Eric brightens and offers to show her a photo of his new girlfriend -- and brandishes a picture of an airplane. He sold everything to buy it and will be running fishing charters. "You're going to be a bush pilot," Abby giggles. Eric's all, "Yeah, baby, a bush pilot -- and I'm going to fly a plane, wink-wink." And then he asks for my number.
Susan's with the boring girl she treated earlier, telling her that she doesn't have gallstones. "I'll send off more bloodwork...you should follow up with your family doctor," Susan says pleasantly. Chen catches her on the way to reception and invites her to dinner, but Susan refuses in favor of taking a three-hour bath. Pausing uncomfortably, Susan overly cheerfully thanks Chen for the sweater and chokes, "I was using the Wood's lamp today, when I was wearing your sweater..." Chen, who had been erasing the board, pauses for a second and seems visibly uncomfortable before snapping back to attention. Susan babbles that there was a stain on her sweater. "It was club soda," Chen interjects, claiming she cracked open a can that exploded, so she took off the sweater to let it dry. This is actually more feasible, as you can't see dry club soda, whereas dry sperm is...dry, crusty, white, and most importantly to this crappy plotline, obvious. Susan laughs with relief. "Soda water glows under black lights, remember?" Chen adds superfluously. Susan squirms a little until Chen busts her on assuming it was spooge and that she's "this ER slut with spunk all over her sweater." Susan turns remorseful in a second, but Chen waves it off with the slightly pissy good nature of a person who's totally offended but is pretending she isn't.
Then, Chen storms into the lounge, stares at the sweater in sadness and distaste, and throws it out. She can't believe how stupid the writers made her. I mean, why in the name of common sense would she loan out a stained sweater in the first place, club soda or not? Second, if she's dating Pratt, as it's implied, then she isn't an ER slut -- she's just stupid and sloppy with the handjobs. But if she isn't dating Pratt, then why the hell has the show been implying that she is? Losers. All of them. This was a contrivance to do a semen storyline. I hate TPTB's semen.
Carter enters Trauma Green, where Biz's dead body is being wheeled away. Pratt is watching. "I heard the cop's going to be okay," Carter offers. "Good," Pratt says, visibly upset. Carter gently explains that he simply wants to help, or at least prevent Pratt from dicking himself over. "I'm not in trouble," Pratt insists. "What about Leon?" Carter busts him. Pratt finally chokes that Leon's twenty-seven, yet he's a scared little kid, and got himself involved in an armed robbery that killed a man and wounded a cop. Sidling up to him, Carter confides that he's pretty sure the police will pin this on Biz. "If Leon went away for a while, I doubt anybody would go looking for him," Carter hints. Pratt exhales heavily and leans against the wall. "I try to keep him out of trouble, but he wants to have his own friends -- he wants to be cool," Pratt exposits sadly. "And they talk him into doing stuff. I can't watch him every minute of the day -- I can't." Carter softly suggests that Pratt learn to let go, and not blame himself for all this. "Tell Leon I said goodbye," Carter says knowingly before leaving. Pratt nods slowly, then spies Gallant down the hall and yells that he needs a favor. I knew Gallant would come through. I knew he'd get Leon off the show. Everything good comes from Gallant.
Carter bumps into Abby on her way out, and invites her to dinner. "I can't," she beams. "Eric's picking me up." Carter's appropriately shocked. "He's here, and he's on his meds," she delights. "He's taking me to see his airplane." Carter can't quite digest all this, and sputters an offer to accompany her. She rejects it, pleased that Eric seems to be so healthy. "Are you going flying with him?" Carter asks. Abby snorts. "No," she grins. "I'm supportive, not stupid." Carter shrugs that he needs to drop by Ed's clinic anyway to drop off a forgotten prescription. "Don't go flying with him," he urges one last time. "Don't go to Chechnya," she retorts, as if that's a fair bargain.
Romano bursts into recovery to spy Lizzie hovering over Aidan's bedside. "Your resident asked for a curbside," she explains testily, expositing for our benefit that there's some sensory loss on the thigh, but no foot drop -- all the nerves are intact. "Guess he got lucky then," Romano offers weakly. "Yes, he did," Elizabeth says firmly. Romano bites his lip, then wheels around and bursts into reception to ask Shirley where Jensen might be. "He said he was going up to the roof...to jump," she replies. Romano heads for the elevator.
Leon waits outside the bus station; Gallant appears with some food for his trip. "How far is Baltimore?" Leon asks. Gallant pats him reassuringly and says he should be there by tomorrow night. He's going to stay with an aunt of theirs, Rose. "Let's get you on the bus, then," Gallant says. Leon flips out, realizing Pratt isn't going to come see him off. Gallant tries to explain that Pratt's stuck at the hospital, but even if it's true, it sounds lame and Gallant knows it. So does Leon. "He's mad at me," Leon sobs. Ugh, I'm not going to miss this at all. The actor isn't objectionable, but all his lines are panicky wails. "I'm getting sent away because I messed up and I'm stupid!" Leon shrieks. Gallant tries to calm him down and get him on the bus; despite his tears, Leon finally obliges, and Gallant sadly wishes him a good trip. Leon looks crushed. "Be safe," Gallant calls out lamely, dodging the anvil that a cackling Foreshadowing has heaved at his noggin.
Up on the roof, Romano sees Jensen hanging out by the ledge. "Don't do it, Jensen!" he booms. "My car's down there!" Jensen steps away from the edge, perturbed. Romano blithely downplays Aidan's condition. "There was nerve damage," Jensen says brokenly. "Minimal," Romano assures him. "You'll do better time." Jensen takes a deep breath. "You're right," he says. "Because I won't go into surgery with you." With that, he stomps inside, leaving a disturbed Romano alone. A helicopter flies overhead, blinding Romano with its lights; despondently, he leans over the roof and stares at the ground below. He slides off his kerchief and lobs it into the street, then stares at his near-useless left hand, banging it softly against the concrete ledge. Dammit, Robert, don't you dare jump, or I'm going to have to quit.
Carter arrives at Ed's clinic, only to see that it's locked and chained. He bangs on various side doors until a suspicious cop pulls up to the curb and offers to help him. Carter explains that he's an ER doctor, and he's worried that Ed collapsed into a diabetic coma; this appeases the cop enough that he helps Carter break in through the locked door. What they find is disconcerting: The building is empty. "This is his clinic," Carter gapes. "Has been for twenty years." The cop clears his throat and says that, when he started the beat in 1995, this wasn't a clinic -- it was a Christian bookstore. The clinic was only here a couple of weeks, he insists. Carter shakes his head, resentment and bitterness spreading on his face and mixing with the disbelief. "Was that guy even a real doctor?" asks the cop. "I don't know," Carter exhales, hissing slightly. He kicks a cup in anger. So, was Liz in on it the whole time? Was Ed a scammer, or was he just tantalized by the money and so he made a dash for it? If the latter, then why did Ed lie about the length of time he'd had a clinic? How did he know so much, and what was the purpose of his scam if he hadn't planned ahead of time to have a diabetic emergency and get Carter to treat him? I don't know. I just don't. I think it's kind of a poorly plotted twist -- like the writers decided Ed was a phony at the last minute. I buy that these scams can happen, but this one seemed too convenient.
At home, Pratt broods. I guess he misses Leon. Let's hope that doesn't change.