Susan trots up to County and encounters Carter sitting on a bench, head down, coffee clutched tightly. "Am I late or are you early?" she asks. Carter yawns that there's no point in staying in bed if you can't sleep. Perhaps if he took Gamma's stuffed corpse out of there, he'd have an easier time. What, you don't think that's his body pillow when he's lonely in the dark? You're crazy. He even has her face set to "scold." Susan sympathetically moans that Chuck snores. Some ambulances arrive, and Susan mournfully asks whether this one's going to be a quick job or a depressing one. "The latter. Multiples from the same address," Carter says.
The driver unloads Vicky, our pregnant mom with the family that wouldn't wake up and could now be a fresh garden salad of vegetables. Vicky is screaming, because she's in labor, and I don't imagine the sensation of a baby trying to claw its way to daylight is a very pleasant one. I think the people who call childbirth a blessed miracle are ones that have had plenty, and I mean plenty of distance from the experience. Kind of like when you're in an airplane and you hit turbulence, and the plane jiggles and shakes, and you look outside and the wing seems mighty bendy indeed, and your knuckles turn white, and you freak out the person next to you by closing your eyes and breathing heavily in through the nose, out through the mouth -- yet when you arrive two hours later and someone asks how the flight was, you reply, "Oh, it was fine. Great landing." Carter wonders what's up with the others, and when he finds out that they were all unconscious, he correctly suspects carbon monoxide poisoning. Carter and Susan wheel Vicky inside, ceding Nolan's care to the just-arrived Pratt. Nolan is convulsing and his mouth is flapping open, all set for a chunky heave. "Oh, God. I have the worst feeling that something's going to come out of there," I wail to Lauren. But Nolan goes inside without vomitous incident, and I heave a sigh of relief. Malarkey and Abby trot out to treat the kids. "Feeling sick, dude?" Malarkey asks Clay, the boy. The show rewards its earlier restraint by turning the Vomit Comet switch to "bile" and shooting it out of little Clay's mouth and onto Malarkey's shoes. Well, we don't know for sure that's where it ended up, but I cling to whatever hope I can muster. The little girl only has a headache, so Malarkey swiftly assigns himself to her care and pawns Puke Boy off onto Abby.