Benton tells Finch that he'll scrub in, if she'll please page neurosurgery again. Just then, a yobbo whose nice suit can't hide his utter yobbodom enters and serves Big B with some papers. Grimly, he opens the envelope, notes it's from Roger, and reveals to Finch that the Klingons are suing to regain control of their heir.
Gallant trots behind Luka, pestering him with questions about Jeremy's brain injury. A security guard strolls unnoticed behind them, until he wonders aloud whether Jeremy will be okay. "You his father?" Luka asks. No, he's David Hilliker, the man who called 911. David exposits that Jeremy was screwing around with his buddies in the mall; he regurgitates too cheerfully that Jeremy stupidly wasn't wearing a helmet, because helmets seem uncool to kids today, so watch out kids, because skateboards are silent killers, and isn't it twisted that the law doesn't require motorbike riders to wear helmets, and hasn't the advent of Entenmann's non-fat pound cake changed the world as we know it? Or, in more technical terms, "Blah, snore, PSA, whee." While the man blathers, Gallant notices he's walking with a slight limp; David cheerfully explains he twisted it a tad chasing after Jeremy and his evil posse of rapscallions. Luka decides to examine it, and even as David deflects that an ice-pack and some beers will cure what ails him, he lets the good doc escort him to an exam room.
Cut to Abby patiently explaining to two fully-garbed nuns that Carter just isn't available right now to change any bandages. The Strumpet Sisters insist their thighs would rather wait for the soft, smooth hands of Dr. Erotica. "I'm very patient," leers the older of the two. "Look, Sister," Abby starts to spit. "Helen," interrupts the woman. Abby nods. "The sooner you let me change the bandage..." "I'm Monica!" chirps the drippy younger nun, leaning toward Abby. Sister Helen darts her a hilarious look of pure skepticism, as if she doesn't quite feel right about her protégé's appraising glances and enthusiasm for Abby. It's only on-screen for a split second, but it's fairly awesome. Abby squints at Monica by way of acknowledgement and continues talking. "...the sooner you can get out and get back to doing your...stuff," she says, lamely. "And quite frankly, I need the bed." Helen sighs condescendingly and suggests that Abby notify Carter of their divine presence. Abby visibly tenses, fighting back all the slapping urges she's pent up, and bolts toward the suddenly approaching Carter.