ER
Insurrection

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Insurrection

A lost Tom Everett Scott trails Carter through the ER. Carter is harassing Gallant about not turfing Chem, who is apparently exhibiting symptoms of...something else. Who cares. Point is, she's not gone, and Carter wants Gallant to treat and street her. "You're not her personal physician," he warns. Tom Everett Scott finally flags down Carter and asks after Abby. Carter knows this is Eric, and shakes his hand happily while apologizing for how insane things are that day. "The guy at the desk told me you were closed, and to go home," grins Eric. Carter wonders why Eric's not wearing an Air Force uniform. Um, because he's not on duty? They're not glued to their bodies. "I'm undercover," Eric smiles. Just then, Erin runs up waving the vibrator in a baggie, asking for guidance because pathology won't deal with it. Carter tells her to get a Polaroid for the medical record; while they sort this out, Eric does a really subtle and cute double-take, his mouth dropping into a neat "O" of shock. Erin, charged with locating a camera, blazes down the hall, holding the bagged-up sex toy like a guiding torch.

In the waiting area, Druggie is ranting about his pain. Abby crabs that he's last in a long line of patients with actual, urgent problems. "I have been here for four hours!" he screams. Carter hails her, and Abby sees Eric with a yelp of delight. She runs over to kiss his cheek. "What are you doing here?" she asks, happily. Druggie babbles that he's in constant pain, blah blah blah. Abby ignores him and asks Eric if he's checked his messages. "HEY!" shrieks Druggie. "I'm talking to you!" Carter yells for Pratt, who is apparently Carter's personal bitch. Druggie doesn't want to deal with Pratt, because -- and I think he speaks for all of us here -- Pratt doesn't give him what he wants. "He's concerned you're building up a tolerance to the narcotic," Carter explains, like that's not a complete waste of time. Druggie's all, "No shit, Sherlock, that's why I need more." News bulletin: he's in pain. He rants that none of them wants to help him because they're selfish. Pratt tosses him a packet of pain pills, but it's one Vicodin, not a dose of Demerol, and Druggie knows the difference. He's pissed. "Go play Lakeshore," scoffs Pratt. "Think you're a bunch of heroes, or something?" Druggie shouts, irate. "Look around! You're not doing anything, you're not helping anyone!" In his fury, he kicks over a group of chairs, knocking a patient on crutches to the floor. This is the single funniest thing in the show. The extra flails. He's wailing inside. Druggie leaves in a whirlwind of pained rage as Eric turns to Abby, totally amused and bemused. "We like excitement," she offers. We fade out, wondering why she's dating Carter, then.

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