Cut to Yang entering Mr. Promider's room. "You paged me?" she asks Posner, who's standing over the bed scribbling something on his clipboard. Posner informs her that the old guy is dead. Yang is shocked -- Promider's stats were fine a few hours ago. Posner, unruffled, says that these things happen and points out that "the guy was ancient." The orderlies lift Promider onto a gurney, and a pair of worn wooden dice tumble out of the sheet. The psycho sound effects kick in for, you know, effect. Yang freezes at the sight of the dice, but Posner just glances at them. Realizing that Yang is freaked, he teases, "Oh, come on. You don't really believe in all that stuff, do you?" She asks what he means. He exposits that rumor has it the killer's ghost returns every Halloween to look for fresh patients to kill. "Oooh, I'm so scared!" Posner adds mockingly. Yang forces a chuckle around the anvil in her throat and says weakly, "Yeah, give me a break." Posner forcefully agrees, saying that they're "doctors...rationalists." Yang tries to act like she agrees. Posner, impatient, snatches the dice off the bed and says there are a "million explanations" for how they got there. And there could be, but what do you want to bet the writers haven't been arsed to think beyond the first, most obvious one? Posner points to a conveniently placed game of Yahtzee on the chair to Promider's bed. Happy with his rational explanation, Posner shoves the dice into Yang's hands and heads for the door, pausing long enough to ask again for his Chem-7. Yang stares at the dice after he leaves, rattling them around in her palm. She opens up the Yahtzee box, returns the dice to their spot, and heads out. As if. With a lot of hoopla and close-ups and "spine-tingling" music, we see that the game hasn't ever been played, and the original Yahtzee dice are still sealed in the tiny plastic bag they came in. Which can only mean the dice she's holding are...ghost dice! Or something.
Cut to Joyner performing an ultrasound on the pregnant lady's heart. Kellerman rushes in, answering the page he received. Joyner indicates the screen, and Kellerman pronounces that they're looking at a type-A dissection (this is your cue to exclaim, "The baby!"). Joyner asks who's covering for Kellerman while he takes Mac the Glass Boy trick-or-treating. Kellerman doesn't answer for a second, torn as he is between mounting his gleaming white steed and mooching candy with his kid. He sighs, and we know it's all over for Mac and his Halloween Dreams. Kellerman tells Joyner that he'll book the O.R. When he leaves, Joyner launches into an explanation of the woman's condition, but the patient cuts her off, pleading, "Don't be mad at me!" Doc Angela, shocked, stammers, "You knew!" The woman says her father died of the same condition, known as Marfan Syndrome. Doc Angela asks why the woman didn't say anything, so the woman has a chance to let us know how desperately she wants a baby. She's so baby-crazy that she's dying to have one, literally. She knew Doc Angela would tell her not to get pregnant if she knew about her condition. Joyner and Angela exchange a look over the woman's mountainous belly, and hike over to a corner to mutter out of her earshot. Doc Angela mutters that she "didn't even work her up." Joyner assures her that she had no way of knowing. "But I missed it! She looks like a Marfan!" I'm not sure what that means, or if it's insulting. But clearly Doc Angela is a bit of a Type-A control freak. Joyner reassures her that they've caught it in time, and they'll fix it. Kellerman barges back in and asks Type-A how far along the pregnancy is. She answers eight months. That's lucky. She and her team can perform a c-section, and then Kellerman and his team will fix the woman's heart. Type-A goes to call the OR to get it set up. Joyner thanks Kellerman, then leaves him alone so he can call and disappoint his son for the eighteen millionth time in his young life. Kellerman and I sigh as we're forced to listen to that infuriatingly not-cute answering machine message yet again. Kellerman tells Pam that he'll be stuck in surgery, and tries to think of what he wants her to tell Mac. A herd of giggly trick-or-treaters swarms past, just to twist the knife. Kellerman chokes out that Pam should just tell Mac that he'll make it up to him.