A dishy Italian woman struts into the ER in a dress that announces both her breasts and her ass to the world. Jerry, Pratt, and Gallant all hear the call of the estrogen bullhorn, Gallant to the point that he adorably fumbles his clipboard. The woman introduces herself as Coco, Old Man Gilman's wife and the parking spot for the penile artifact that was the instrument of his heart failure. Stunned, Gallant regains enough composure to escort Coco to her husband's bedside. Abby passes just then and tsks at Jerry and Pratt, "If you stare any harder, her ass is going to burst into flames." Jerry leers, "I'll put that fire out." Pratt licks his lips. "Stop, drop and roll," he drools.
Dr. Kayson, the cardiologist, is in Trauma Green with Old Man Gilman, Coco, and Gallant. Seriously, Old Man Gilman is the boniest old man ever -- although I imagine Coco enjoys the idea of a man who's all bone. Kayson, a tad too cheerfully, says that Gilman's cardiomyopathy can be treated aggressively, but that his prognosis is poor and he could have a fatal attack at any time. This is not a terribly revolutionary statement, since you can practically see his heart through the stretched skin on his wee chest, and it's complaining mightily. "Oh, Danny," coos Coco. Old Man Gilman gestures to Gallant, who leans down to better hear his patient's question. "When can I bang her?" Old Man Gilman rasps. Gallant, flustered, jerks upright. Kayson cocks an eyebrow. "Uh, he wants to know when he might be able to...have sex," chokes Gallant. Kayson barely stifles an amazed snicker and shrugs that the day The Artful Codger can handle two flights of stairs without getting winded is the day he can plug Coco with love bullets. Coco beams adoringly at her breathing cadaver.
Weaver ties up her scrubs and hides her old clothes in a plastic bag, which she then tucks under a bed rather than taking them to her locker. Okay. Lily interrupts to tell her that Security needs to speak with her, so Weaver takes a deep breath, grabs her crutch, and faces the day.