It's the first day of gross anatomy and Justin is lucky enough to have Henry from Eureka as his professor. The genius physicist is taking a break from his work at GD to teach first-year anatomy. Henry uses his platform to threaten his students with failure and teach them valuable life lessons such as: you don't get to choose your co-workers or your lab partners. Justin and his new lab partner give each other the once over. Since the kid looks like Urkel all grown up, I think Justin scored. The kid hands Justin a color-coded study guide and asks if he is comfortable with the upper arm. Justin nods that he's good on the bones (shut! up! about! bones!) and, besides, there are only two bones in the upper arm and I know them and I am not in some advanced placement college class. The kid is not assured by Justin's seeming lack of knowledge on ligaments and tendons and when Justin turns to stare at him in disbelief he finally notices that the kids is young -- almost Doogie Howser young. The kid is sixteen, but has had his social maturity tested. Like with Wanda at a beer pong party? The kid tells Justin that he is acing that class and Justin better not hold him back. He also tells him: no Doogie Howser jokes, but he didn't say it to me! Where's Vinnie, yo?
Rebecca has on a strapless dress with appliquéd flowers trailing down to a full skirt. Kitty gasps in pleasure, but still wants Rebecca to try on a feathered dress despite Rebecca's firmly-held belief that feathers belong on birds. Kitty is drinking champagne and lectures Rebecca on the need to "get in touch with her inner princess", which I'm pretty sure was the subtitle to The Feminine Mystique. Rebecca duly asks if Kitty is drunk, but Kitty claims she is just happy and high on denial. She pulls out a (pink, tufted, beaded, and feathered) soapbox and tells Rebecca to seize the day (and the tulle and the satin) because you never know what is going to happen. They could all get hit by a bus tomorrow! Rebecca chides her that they are not going to get hit by a bus, but Kitty shakes her head and reminds her stoically that things can change in the blink of an eye. Rebecca cocks her head and asks if she is okay and Kitty nods that everything is fan-fucking-tastic. And did she mention that she loves Rebecca? Rebecca shakes her head and laughs while Kitty drinks some more champagne and demands: Feathers! While I know that Kitty's drinking is supposed to be symbolic of how deep in denial she is, I can't really blame her. I'm allergic to milk and I always say (because I am deeply morbid) that if I get a terminal illness I'm going to eat cheese and ice cream and pudding and cheesecake and cheddar fries and baked brie and fondue and all the other things I've missed out on, because really, what do you have to lose? Might as well take up heroin at that point. I mean, chemo. Take up chemo. And hugs. Do you have a support system? You should get a support system.