As Pratt meanders through the hospital, Kidsicle flags him down and thanks him for all the life-saving. Pratt demurs that he didn't do anything. "I came in here with a broken back and now I'm going home," Kidsicle says. Pratt points out that his vertebrae is still fractured, but Kidsicle doesn't want his parade rained upon by so rancid a golden shower. He thanks Pratt quite insistently, and Pratt shrugs and accepts it with nothing approaching grace.

Instead, Pratt wanders into Amy's room, for no apparent reason other than divine guidance. Rudy's hovering over the bed, depressed and scared and blaming himself for his mother's injuries. "I couldn't protect her," he sniffles. "That's not your job," Pratt points out. "Yes, it is. She doesn't have anybody else to do it," Rudy frowns. Pratt smiles and spouts something lovely about how good a job Rudy does taking care of her, and that he shouldn't flog himself because bad things often inexplicably and unfairly happen to good people, "even when we do our best." Rudy is about to thank Pratt for the chat when a script-shaped anvil drops from the sky and crushes Amy's skull. Oh well. As Rudy blubbers about how clumsy and obvious writing killed his mother, Pratt leaves to go find some ribbon with which to tie the bow that wraps up this little crisis of confidence into a nifty package.

The line of patients in the hall eerily resembles the scene in the Congo when Luka and Carter administered vaccines to the villagers. Kem helpfully translates everything Sam is saying about the injection, and Carter corrals Luka into helping. "Why not?" Luka sighs. "This, at least I'm good at." Carter swears that Kem enjoyed the lecture, and Luka forlornly sniffs that she's the only one: "I don't think I got through to the others. Maybe it's the accent." You mean the one that lulls us into a lusty trance? Could be. Weaver wanders into the hall and is appalled to find it teeming with hacking humanity. Kem explains what she did, and Kerry wonders why she didn't tell them to go to their primary care physicians. "From what I've seen, you are their primary care physicians," Kem lips. Then she tries to claw her way back by insisting that they won't get treatment anywhere else, which will result in an epidemic. Carter's a bit mortified and tries to gloss things over with Weaver. "She doesn't need you interpreting for her. She's making herself perfectly clear," Weaver sighs. She permits the vaccinations, tells them to hurry, and shuffles off. "From now on, NOBODY ELSE is going to Africa," she growls. Hee. Nice line. Kem turns back to Carter. "Did I say something wrong?" she asks. "Not at all," Carter lies. Okay, again...God, you know, I feel like it's all been said. Beard? Check. Absence of Kem's brains? Check. Bite a fat dildo, TPTB? Check. Well, maybe not that last one...so consider it said now.