Outside County General, it’s mayhem. Dr. Kerry “Chesty La Rue” Weaver is still wearing her tight blue shirt and is directing patients to other hospitals. The girl whose fiancé was stuck inside without her trots up to Kerry in a panic and asks where Colin is. “I don’t think they brought him out yet,” Weaver answers. She squints up at the bright lights coming from news copters and crabs that no one’s gotten rid of them yet. Suddenly, Susan trucks over with one last patient in a wheelchair. It’s Chem Glass from Popular, in what has to rank as the most pointless guest spot on the planet. It consists of one line. Don’t blink or you’ll read right over it. Weaver tells a paramedic named Zadro that he’s got one more patient to take to Lakeview. “Where am I supposed to put her, on my lap?” he whines. “Sounds good to me, Lucky Pants,” purrs Chem. And that’s a wrap. Hope they paid her well.
Susan and Kerry sigh and exposit that the third and fourth floors have been emptied, with the ICU and OR due to be cleared in ten minutes or less. “We did a good job,” Susan insists, on the defensive even though Weaver hasn’t said anything. It’s like she’s anticipating an insult. Weaver stops, levels her with a stony gaze, and then says gently, “You kicked ass.” Susan pats her on the arm almost amiably, and trots back inside. But why are they letting Susan march in and out of the hospital if she’d previously been quarantined like everyone else? In the last show they shut down the elevators so that no one in the ER could get upstairs, and now suddenly it’s fine for Susan to be spewing her germs all over the ambulance bay. They must’ve vaccinated her first so she could help with the evacuation. Or not. They’ve kept it so fuzzy as to who needs to be locked up and who doesn’t.
Inside, Dr. Michael “Last in the Credits, First in our Hearts (Except for Romano)” Gallant is poking someone. Poking hard and fast and with the kind of stamina that could last all night. Sadly, it’s just a vaccine needle he’s using on a whiny patient. A fat non-vaccinated lout shoves past in search of a wristband so security will let him leave, but Gallant grabs him and reminds him that the whole point of the wristband system is to make sure no one leaves who hasn’t been vaccinated. The man whines that he doesn’t want to get poked tonight. “I ain’t gettin’ stabbed a hundred times by some smallpox needle if it isn’t even smallpox,” he snarls at a passing Susan. “It’s 15 little pricks,” she spits, as if she’s talking about the mob of fat louts who always complain at times like these. She basically tells him to shut up, get the shot, and get the hell out, because it’s either Gallant’s way or the big burly army sergeant’s way.