Ling meets Thompson Son at the hospital and asks how his dad's doing. Thompson Son says the operation was a success but that "it's kind of hitting him now," meaning the death of Thompson Mom. Ling goes in to see Henry. He's in a super-bitchy mood, asking if she's there to collect her fee. He doesn't smile at all and tells Ling that he'd prefer to be alone. She leaves and he pulls a framed photograph of his wife out from under his sheet. Ling spies on him through the window as he caresses the picture, and then we hear more retching as Vonda sings "Somewhere Out There (Fivel's Song)." Is that the name of it? You know which one I mean, right? I mean, that is why you're retching, isn't it?

Vonda continues to sing as Renee smashes her huge breasts against Jackson's chest on The Bar dance floor. Gilbert and Julie are dancing, too, because Fish & Cage managed to suck them into The Cult of The Bar, I guess. Ally sits at a table and stabs at her martini's olive. Larry walks up and asks if she cares to dance with an "insignificant [something] little gnat." She pouts at him. He says he picked out a new sofa from Sears. "Oh, for you to be sleeping on at night?" she asks. He says that they can watch TV together and she can work the remote. "Don't be gross," says Ally. I won't if you won't, says everyone watching the show. They dance right next to Jackson and Renee. The men say each other's names cattily. Ling and Nelle look on, sad and lonely because even though they're beautiful, they're icy ice queens who only care about money. However, they're not FAT, and we should thank everything holy for that, because fat women are the dregs of the earth.

Elaine walks down the sidewalk, also sad and lonely in her bitchin' fur accessories and beret. Mr. Thompson walks on his walker in the hospital sidewalk, feeling -- you guessed it -- sad and lonely. I feel sad and lonely as I press STOP and then RWD. I'm sad and lonely, yet also glad that the show is over.

Next week: a rerun. Woo hoo! Y'all watch something good, okay? Rent a movie. Go out for Thai. Don't force yourselves to sit there and actually watch the rerun of Ally McBeal, all right? I worry about you people…