Foreign Affairs

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Foreign Affairs

Luka whispers to Weaver that Ante is getting worse and can't wait for Mercy to prepare for the surgery. She knows where he's going with this and demurs that County has enough trouble treating its own uninsured clientele, much less some crazy kid from Croatia who's named after part of a poker game. Luka begs her to convince the board to approve it, offering to pick up any costs the procedure incurs. "Don't count on anything," she warns, exiting.

At the front desk, Chuny informs Luka that Jacy said she'd donate time to the surgery if he arranges for her to get the two weeks off that her regular boss keeps denying her. "I can't control vacation schedules," he protests "Everything's on negotiation," Chuny shrugs. "I thought nurses were supposed to be angels of mercy," snorts a nearby Susan. "Even mercy has a price," Chuny gloats. Luka orders Jerry to track Ante's flight and bolts for the lounge as Romano exits it. "I'm checking out of the losers' lounge. Try not to kill anyone, Lurch," he growls. "We'll do our best," Luka shouts humorously, all but saluting. Susan grabs Romano to tell him that Slugger's CT is back and doesn't show any signs of a concussion. Romano studies Slugger's chart and spews forth a bunch of syllables that, strung together, mean absolutely nothing to me. For all I know, he's got a paper cut. Susan finally explains that it's something called Long QT Syndrome; Romano offers to stick around and check his family history for any traces of the disease. "I thought you were going home," she says. "You know me, I live for this place," Romano mutters.

Funeral. An old crony of Gamma's gushes to Carter about how wonderful he is and how much Gamma loved having him around and how nobody ever thought it was weird, not ever, that once Gamma finally cut the damn apron strings, she framed them and hung them in the foyer. Carter stops in front of Stephen and politely introduces Gamma's friend. "Are you a relation?" she asks kindly. "I'm her son," Stephen says through gritted teeth. A divine halo bearing the inscription "Dost Thou Get It?" drops out of the sky and clocks Stephen in the noggin before settling atop Carter's. Stephen stiffly thanks Gamma's friend for attending, and then suggests that they get things moving along so that he can start drinking again. Carter wants to wait, because Abby isn't there yet. "I sent a car for her," he sighs. "I guess she's running late." His expression is gloomy.

Romano tells Slugger that he can get a wee equivalent of a defibrillator implanted in his heart, so they can jolt it back to a normal rhythm and then play mean pranks on him at parties. His wife -- whose breasts are tipping out of her dress -- insists that Slugger was just dehydrated and there's nothing wrong with him. Romano ignores her and explains that after the implantation, he'll be in recovery for six months, at which point he can gradually slip back into his workout regimen. "We can't stop playing for that long," says Chesty La Rue, as if she's in her Slugger's pants on the pitch as well as off. Slugger tries to soothe her, but Chesty wails that no team will touch him if he sits out for a season with a heart defect. Romano basically tells her that teams are even less likely to give him a shot if he's got no pulse and has been cremated. "You don't understand, I'm about to get my shot," Slugger explains. "Tuesday night. Wrigley Field." Chesty's cleavage pouts, "Our whole life has been waiting for this." It has? Well, feed it some beer and pretzels, honey, because it's gonna be twiddling its thumbs a little longer. Romano sighs, and then capitulates that they can be slightly less aggressive with the treatment, but just temporarily. "Thank you, Doctor," Chesty's breasts wiggle gratefully. "I'm expecting box seats," he retorts.

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