In her apartment, Kerry is frantically making travel arrangements for herself and Henry, while trying to pack her belongings. Clearly, Kerry and Sandy never went to the movies during their courtship, or she'd know that going on the lam with a kid always results in heartbreak, because someone hot but sympathetic will find you and, despite really feeling for you, will return the kid anyway. That is, if the child's wisdom beyond his or her years doesn't prompt you to do it first. A knock on the door interrupts her plans, and Kerry answers it, because the first thing you do when you're trying to skip town is get the door. It's Elizabeth, chirpily -- for her -- lugging in a box of Ella's old clothes that are apparently gender non-specific. Elizabeth is wearing a gorgeous lavender coat that I covet mightily and greedily. Poor Henry. No longer the cutest thing in the scene. Elizabeth rattles off a list of what she brought, but trails off when she notices the telltale signs of an escape-in-progress: namely, mess and suitcases. And a passport, which shoots to hell Kerry's feeble lie that she's going to visit a cardiologist friend in Seattle. "I...lost my license..." Kerry stammers pathetically. She then curtly thanks Elizabeth in an effort to get her out, but Elizabeth cautiously tells Kerry that she's concerned. "Don't do anything that you might regret later," Elizabeth warns. "Thank you for the clothes," Weaver says robotically. No, she said don't do anything you'll regret later --- those are last season's styles, Kerry! Last season! STEP AWAY from the hand-me-downs!
I just violated a very long-held personal belief that one should rarely, if ever, deploy exclamation points. Although I sometimes allow them when riddled with sarcasm, so I think I can still sleep tonight.
Abby does a Psych consult on a guy who was walking down Michigan Avenue with a sword. "There were no buses," he says in his defense. "Okay, I was more interested in the sword part," Abby says dryly. My sister Julie takes this opportunity to unsheathe her authentic British naval officer's sword, because really, one doesn't get too many opportunities in life to unsheathe a sword without its being dangerously out of context. There are some shenanigans on the show about a guinea pig named Cookie whose days of hay and pellet-shaped excrement may be over, having been forced to give over its blood to this wacko's costume, but I stopped transcribing at that point because Julie still hadn't returned her blade to its home, and typing at sword-point is surprisingly difficult. Malarkey is there, but do you care what he said? You don't. Neither did spell check.