But, of course, Pratt would rather take well enough out to dinner and a movie than leave it alone. As Doug stalks mulishly out of the hospital, Pratt gives chase. "Your mom might die," he yells. "They love you, man!" Doug laughs hollowly and turns. "Right, the dumb stoner who makes them laugh," he spits. Well, sure. Pratt insists that Doug cares about them. "I can't take care of two kids!" he yells. Which is probably true. He looks as if he has trouble taking care of his piercings. "You'd be surprised at what you can do," Pratt says calmly. Doug reiterates that he can't do it. "Trust me. I know. You just need to step up," Pratt says, getting an anvil out of his pocket and trying to hang it from one of Doug's earrings. But it's misguided -- Pratt and Leon weren't druggies when Mrs. Pratt died, presumably, and so Leon was probably in a better place to take care of Pratt. Also, Pratt wasn't as young as Rachel and Marten are and could therefore be a bit more self-sufficient. But Pratt is determined to pollute the scene with anvils, so he keeps shaking them out from his trouser leg. "You never should've called me, all right?" Doug weeps. "My mom's right. They're all right!" Pratt urges him to make them wrong. Dodging the anvil being chucked at his ass, Doug screams, "I can't, all right?" He runs away. We fade to black wishing Pratt would stop presuming that he knows best all the time, because he's frequently wrong, and tiresome.
Kerry tries to hide the guilt in her eyes with a smile, asking a friendly lab tech if she can delete lab records because the sample was mislabeled. The woman pleasantly lets Weaver sign the papers. "Is that it?" Kerry asks. "That's it," smiles the woman. Weaver seems surprised that it was so easy to compromise her integrity this time.
Carter and Abby stand outside the event, neither looking at the other. Carter half-heartedly offers to take her to dinner. "I'm not hungry," she sniffs. "Not hungry, or pissed at me?" Carter asks, still staring in the other direction and not sounding terribly concerned either way. Abby ignores him. "Look, I'm sorry, but I don't think you have any right to lecture me about my family," he bristles. Abby swivels and stares at him in disbelief. "Was that an apology?" she asks. "I don't owe you an apology," he says calmly. Ooh, bitchy. Carter argues that he doesn't want to become a clone of his father -- a lifeless shill doling out checks to museums -- and Abby suggests that he sack up and join the foundation and try to effect change. They're both kind of right. Carter should get off his high horse about his wealth and, if he resents the way they use it so much, he should try to take a role in directing the money toward better causes. But Abby shouldn't meddle and assume she knows best if she's going to turn around and get resentful and bitter when Carter shows an interest in her family problems.