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Previously on Everyone Reeks, Carter and Luka perspired their way through the Congo helping the underprivileged and poor get medicated amid civil war. Shortly after Carter's return, word came to the ER that Luka had died. Mysteriously, women across the world did not self-immolate from heartbreak.
We fade up on the airplane set they used at the beginning of "Kisangani," although this one's almost completely deserted. Dr. John Carter is sitting in the middle of an empty three-seat row, reading his paper and listening to his product-placed Apple iPod: Now Helping Millions Flaunt Their Wealth In Third-World Countries. It was so thoughtful of Carter to shave, cut his hair, and de-puff a little just for Luka's corpse. That's devotion.
"You're sober?" a man asks, plopping down uninvited across the aisle. "You look sober." Carter glances up at him, annoyed. "I make it a rule to always land [sic] in Kinshasa drunk," the man says cheerfully, introducing himself as Steven Davidson. As they shake hands, Davidson appraises Carter and tries to guess which company sent him: Coke, Xerox, Shell. All strikes. To cope with his failure, Davidson orders another Dewar's from the stewardess. Alcohol is a wonderful coping mechanism. Stiffly and dismissively, Carter mumbles that he's on his way to Africa on a personal matter. "Not much competition for the seats!" chirps Davidson. "I guess the 'See A Brutal Genocide' tour package didn't sell very well!" Carter looks up at him with a cold smile, bristling at jokes about a situation he's cared about for three whole weeks and about which he knows almost nothing. Also, his travel agent told him that tour was sold out. Davidson exposits that he's going to Africa for his job at the American Embassy. Something tells me this information might come in handy later. Just a guess. Carter shares that his friend was murdered, and Carter's there to bring him home. "I'm sorry to hear it," Davidson says, chugging his Dewar's and acting as though the only thing he'd be sorry to hear are the words "Last call for alcohol."
When they get off the plane, Davidson tells Carter to get in touch if he needs to see a familiar face that doesn't belong to his dead friend. Carter contemplates jumping into Davidson's arms for a comforting cuddle, but instead nods curtly and strolls purposefully toward discovering his manhood. Again. He hands his papers to the Customs agent and glares balefully at the soldier clutching his gun. Camouflage is so last season.
"John!" a familiar female French-Canadian voice shouts. It's Gillian, welcoming Carter to Congo with Charles at her side. Sadly, John shakes Charles's hand, and then lets Gillian leap at him. She hugs him tightly, crying. Carter closes his eyes in pain. Either he loved Luka, too, or she's crushing his iPod into his ribs.
Gillian sniffles and smokes at an outdoor table while Carter quietly asks Charles for details. They don't know how this happened or what became of Patrique. Carter asks if the Red Cross located Luka's body. Gillian slams her hand down over her pack of smokes. "Excuse me," she chokes, flouncing away in tears. Charles whispers that there are ten thousand bodies, all killed in the last two weeks and stacked up in Kivu. Carter nods and clenches his jaw. He knows what this means: it's going to be a long and smelly slog toward finding his reason for being. Again. Also, time to roll the credits.