In the supply closet, she runs into Carter, who asks her whether they have any extra-small scrubs for L'il Doogie, and Lisa whines, "Don't ask me; I didn't even know I was working here 'til today." This proves to be the peroration to her full-throated declamation on the theme "Poor Me," like, fine AA sponsor you are, Princess Graceless of Moan-aco. The précis: Lisa doesn't like the ER but she's afraid that if she says as much to her nurse manager, Weaver will have a grudge against her in the event that she returns to the ER as a med student. Carter is evidently confident that she'll come back (since she has a contract -- er, I mean, "this place grows on you"), but Lisa opines that the ER is "a freak show" and makes a fungus joke that is more played than the 2000 World Series. She hands him a pair of little scrubs and makes with the pavulon.

Carter tells L'il Doogie that his self-diagnosis was correct, and gives him the l'il scrubs. He prescribes bactrim and says he'll help L'il Doogie with the scrubs in a minute. L'il Doogie asks whether Carter can hook a brother up with some extra catheters, and Carter says he can. L'il Doogie gives Carter a paper airplane modeled after a "F22 Raptor." Carter somehow intuits that L'il Doogie "like[s] jets," and asks whether it'll fly. L'il Doogie makes an "of course" noise, and launches it down the hall, where it hits Weaver in the back of the head. She whips around and snaps, "Grow up, Malucci." Heh. You know what would've been funnier? If she yelled at him, and then he fell down.

Dr. Dave wanders into a curtain area to give Chen some versed. She's treating a patient whose mouth is wrenched open. Dr. Dave, attempting "casual," wonders, "When are we going to meet Daddy?...The father. Of your baby. Everybody's kind of curious." "Everybody" may be curious about it but at least they have enough class to place bets about it behind Chen's back. Geez. Chen ignores him and asks how her patient's doing; Dr. Dave says "he's out." Chen climbs up on the patient's bed, straddling him, and informs Dr. Dave, "You know, my pregnancy is none of your business. [reaching into her patient's mouth and straining to close it] In fact, nothing remotely concerned with my personal life is anybody's business." She sort of pants at the effort, and Dr. Dave sniffs, "I just wanted to meet the lucky guy. You do know who the father is, right?" What the -- WHAT?! I know he went to med school in Grenada and all and we're supposed to think he's dumb, but wasn't he raised by...you know, people? Who asks a question like that?! Chen rolls her eyes, and Dr. Dave adds, more quietly, "I'm sorry, I can't help myself sometimes. There's something about seeing you this way that I find very sexy." She rolls her eyes some more and orders post-reduction films. Dr. Dave cautions her not to forget contra-sedation protocol: "Somebody's got to baby-sit this guy 'til he wakes up." Chen snaps the chart against his chest and says, "I guess that would be your job...Dddd-ave." She wasn't about to say "Dad," was she? Because that would just be ludicrous. If Dr. Dave sired her child -- or anybody's child -- I don't even know what.