Romano barges into Dr. Kerry "Intolerable Cruelty" Weaver's office and pretends he didn't know he'd be interrupting. Weaver's on her feet, and her hair's darker, almost brown. I miss the red. There are also two other people in her office, so Romano feigns embarrassment and swings around to greet them such that Go-Go-Gadget Hook knocks everything off Weaver's desk and onto the floor. "I'm not good at using this thing," he explains. "Maybe if workers' comp covered a myoelectric device...what, do I have to pay for the damn thing myself?" He turns to the two strangers and says, in total false joviality, "Hey, it'd make a damn good news story, don't you think? 'Amputee Surgeon Has to Pay For His Own Arm To Work In The Hospital Where He Lost It.'" Weaver tightly remains calm and informs him that this really isn't the best time for Go-Go-Gadget Vengeful Acts. "Fine, I have a lot of patients to see in the ER," Romano shouts shrilly. "That's where using this hook gets kinda dicey. Really. Wish me luck! Hopefully I won't take someone's [toe] out with this thing." Ohhhh, TPTB. See that? I caught that. I'm onto you. Make no mistake. My toes of hate are watching you like a hawk. On his way out, Romano allows his Go-Go-Gadget Gouger to take a chunk out of the top of Weaver's end table.
Outside on a bench, Abby's taking what looks like her second pass at Carter's letter. She stares blankly at the pages and shakes her head, biting her lip with a hurt, tight smile. Suddenly, Lydia, Conni, Yosh, and six extras who are totally going to get fired appear and announce they're walking out and convening at Dunkin' Donuts: For All Your Glazed And Fresh-Brewed Nurses' Strike Needs. "If we don't take a stand, they're going to replace us with part-time nurses so they don't have to pay benefits," Lydia explains. Don't they have unions that would handle this type of thing? Wouldn't there be a formalized strike, rather than this half-assed Carter-style ill-planned I Can't Believe It's Not "Insurrection" walkout? Abby sighs that Romano's welcome to replace her, and doesn't follow her fellow nurses to the donut shop on The Someone's Having A Bad Day Contrivance of 2003.
Frank shows up outside to bitch -- rightly -- that no one's working. Abby has resumed staring at the letter, which she then tries stuffing back into the envelope, wounded. "Someone fainted in the waiting area, took a header into an end table; there's blood everywhere," Frank informs her. "Abby?" She lets her head loll backward in grief, trying to soak in having just been dumped by Second-Class Luka Mail without getting any actual time to let it sink in properly. I feel pretty sorry for her. Not only is Carter a giant coward for saying it in a letter -- no phones in Congo? Please. They found one to call him about Luka, and I'm guessing they didn't have the kind of cash Carter could spread around -- but he didn't warn Luka not to deliver it at work. What's that smell? Eau de Douchebag?