Ambulance sirens cut through another chilly Chicago morning. The camera pans down from the window to a sleeping Dr. Susan "Haircut 100" Lewis. Her mouth hangs open slightly, and the camera is way too close because you can see the makeup setting up camp in her pores. Lydia nudges Susan awake; we learn she slept from 1:30 to 7 AM. "Oh my God," groans a weary Susan. "I was just going to lie down for a second." She craves a shower and some mouthwash. Lydia says Weaver will have other ideas -- Susan isn't scheduled to start until noon, but someone has to cover for Mark while he hovers at Ella's bedside. Lydia exposits to a concerned Susan that Ella hasn't been extubated yet and is still on oxygen.
At Reception, Frank's getting an earful from Dr. Kerry "Boo Capitalism!" Weaver -- it seems a drug manufacturer sent them a free spread of bagels and cream cheese, and she figures it's a marketing expense that consumers end up paying for when drug prices skyrocket. She blathers that it's the elderly consumers who get screwed. "I'm elderly," whines Frank. "No free lunch, Frank," Weaver scolds. Susan grabs the phone to call the PICU for an Ella update, which Weaver ends up supplying -- the baby's slowly being weaned off the oxygen and is off sedation. Susan hangs up. "I'll take the rack, you clear the pass-ons," Weaver instructs dully. "You want to at least ask me to cover after staying all night?" sighs Susan. "All night was your choice," points out Weaver. "Welcome to management. No whining allowed." That must be why I'm not in management.
Susan wanders over to the bagel spread, where a gluttonous Frank shovels his bagel into his mouth and teases Susan about sleeping with her eyes open. "Half-open," she corrects. Except it was her mouth that was open, but whatever. Frank deems that "freaky." "Not as freaky as watching you eat with your mouth open," Susan winces. Greed gives me a foot rub as Yosh loads up his bagel with cream cheese, and Frank gobbles his, putting the "ew" in "chews." Susan reaches for one, which wins her Weaver's lecture about how the free food is a company's attempt to curry favor so County will prescribe the more expensive drugs instead of generic brands. She's convinced Susan will be beholden to the company because of its bagel bribe. Susan's all, "Whatever, Anal McFussy," and tosses hers in the trash. She hasn't touched it. Shouldn't Waste, or perhaps Bagel Abuse, be the eighth deadly sin? Susan announces she's stopping at Doc Magoo's for breakfast before grabbing some clean underwear -- thanks for that image, Susan -- and returning to work her double shift. "If I keep the undies I've got on, can we keep the food out?" Frank whispers to Weaver. Now, that line just makes no sense. I seriously think the writers just wanted to hear Frank say the word "undies."