Frank dumps a bunch of stuff on Abby's plate, but she insists that her nursing shift hasn't started yet, and strains to get through the rest of her test. Lester finishes and celebrates with a happy shout; if he's not careful, Abby's going to burn off his beard with acid. "Pompe, dupuytrer...these are diseases?" she frets. "That's a hard one," Neela says. Susan and Weaver sail into Reception. "You guys aren't Googling each other again, are you?" Susan teases. Did I actually just hear that? Has Susan just discovered the internet? Next she's going to drawl, "I just sent a message to the web on the email!" She really needs to get out -- of the handicapped shagroom -- more. Weaver spits, "Save it for study hall." She orders Abby to start her shift. "Almost done," Abby says desperately. She rushes to finish, and then takes on the case of one Mr. Benitez, who suffers from shortness of breath and needs his vitals taken.
Gallant breezes in, and Frank gives him the message that Valerie called. Susan's intrigued that Gallant might be getting some ass. Pratt just seems dumbfounded, because he figured he'd get the first poke at every hot young thing to come through town. "Her flight lands at 3:10 and she can't wait to see you," Frank says as everyone eavesdrops. Gallant is startled. "What? She's my sister!" he says. Everyone exhales as if the fate of the city heretofore hung on the guarantee of his celibacy. "Younger or older?" Susan asks. "We're twins," Gallant says with a big grin. Aw. Susan asks what she looks like. "I don't know -- picture me in a dress," Gallant offers. Pratt's grossed out. Lester, however, feels that he can add to the conversation by explaining that he once wore fishnets and stilettos when he was in high school. I hope he had the beard back then. And that it was Circus Freak High. "It was for a musical," he says. Everyone sort of tries to ignore this, because no one knows what to make of Lester and they would rather sweep him under the rug the way this show does with most things. "Have you ever shaved your legs? It feels funny," Lester adds. The camera swings around to frame Neela, Gallant, and Pratt standing at the desk, all wondering why Romano was apparently the character crowding the canvas.
Frank announces that Romano's memorial is today. So yet again, this show robs us of what might've been an emotionally impactful moment. They wrote that character for several seasons, and then killed him and denied us a chance to either cheer or grieve when his co-workers found out what a shocking end Romano met. If you create characters you expect us to invest in and follow, then we want to experience things with them, and that includes the tragic death of a controversial co-worker. And if the show insists on killing that character, it needs to follow through on that dramatic act and not just do it as a tossed-off afterthought, a grisly whim from Emmy-grubbing producers who know that special effects are their only shot at statuettes anymore. This show doesn't have a clue. I complain a lot about the little things I don't like, but honestly, those things would be bearable if I didn't think TPTB blew its bigger chances and ran the show like a serial and not a string of nothing hours between sweeps stunts. "Poor man," Neela says of Romano's fate. Wow, one of the ones who never even knew the endearingly shitty side of the asscoin is still the most gracious person on staff. Pratt makes a crack to the effect that Romano must've wronged a helicopter in another life, and nobody laughs. "What, would you tell these people about karma?" he protests, pointing at Neela. "If you're so concerned about karma, I'd stop making jokes like that," Neela grins. Good for her. ["Seriously. Too soon." -- Wing Chun] Gallant laughs at this, too. Susan announces that Elizabeth has organized a memorial at the chapel that afternoon. "Somebody should go," she sighs. Everyone scatters. "Come on, guys. We'll draw straws!" Oh my God. They're all hateful. If a co-worker I didn't like died, and on the job -- and if, as with Susan, it was a horrific way in which I thought I'd lost my own boyfriend -- I would still be sad and affected and interested in memorializing the person. Right now I absolutely loathe all these selfish pricks. Hate Romano? Fine. But act like a normal person -- I don't think normal people would be like, "Whatever, it's just awesome he's gone." End rant, I hope. Well, okay, that's not really likely, I admit it. Sorry. I tried.
Sam and Alex walk through the snowy ambulance bay and encounter Elizabeth, clad in a jaunty cap and wool coat, standing morosely in front of a beautiful display of flowers outside the hospital. Sam exposits for her loudly curious son that it's a memorial for the people who died in the accident. Elizabeth sadly looks down at two photos lying atop the blossoms: one black and white shot of Romano staring at the camera, and one color photo of her and Robert in their surgical caps, grinning merrily. We smash to the credits thankful that at least one person in this hospital has a heart, even if it is the one who's historically the biggest crab.