Joyner and Kellerman are giving Farrell the once-over. Kellerman determines that the man is not strong enough to survive the transplant; he needs a few more hours to get stronger, and as we all learned last week, hearts just don't last that long outside of bodies. Joyner insists that Farrell will make it, and says that Kellerman likes gambles. Kellerman retorts that he doesn't gamble when he knows he's going to lose. Who does? Joyner leans across and yells at Kellerman. He yells back. She shouts, "I'm not wrong!" He bellows that, medically, she is. Then he shuts her up with, "What's going on here, Joyner? Are you trying to save Farrell or execute Pruitt?" Why can it only be one or the other? She glares at him.
After commercials, we find Kellerman in the midst of surgery, with Joyner watching from the background. The camera pans around so that Pruitt's face moves into the frame, and we know why she's staring so balefully at the procedure. Wendy Whiner picks up the transplant heart and bemoans the fact that it's basically going to waste. She suggests that Kellerman "accidentally" let Pruitt die. He barks at her to get behind the surgery or get out. She brings over the bowl with the heart in it, and Kellerman removes Pruitt's to the accompaniment of a lot of squishing, squelching sound effects that I really could do without. Coco watches anxiously from outside the room.
Cut to Mr. Farrell's profile, a photo of his daughters placed strategically behind it on the night stand. We can hear Joyner in the background, explaining to the missus that Farrell wouldn't have been strong enough to survive a transplant. She assures her that it was a medical decision. Mrs. Farrell says she understands that, but she still can't believe they gave the heart to Pruitt. "S-someone's life was saved," Farrell says with effort. "How can that be a bad thing?" He's a good, good man who deserves to get a heart. Joyner and the wife are so busy feeling ashamed that they don't even notice the anvil that drops behind Mr. Farrell's bed.
Donge and Fishlips, meanwhile, are trying to figure out what the hell is up with Hickenlocher. They're in Fishlips's office, and she reads from her computer screen that Hickenlocher ordered "deluxe breakfast platters for the entire pediatric ward." Donge paces. "Oh, I bet the children enjoyed that!" Fishlips beams. Donge barks at her to focus. She suggests that it may be easiest just to shut down the program. Donge says he tried, but it won't let him in. She asks for his password. Reluctantly, he says, "Aileen." There's the obligatory who's-on-first bit. When Fishlips finally gets it, she smiles to herself, saying that's "very sweet." Someone's changed the password, though. Fishlips suggests calling IT. Donge can't bear the thought of people finding out about it -- whether about his program or his password is unclear. Fishlips tries to be encouraging, saying that there are always bumps along the way to "great accomplishments," and cites the Wright brothers as an example. Donge looks like he'd fly a plane right up her nose if he had one handy.