A young girl with Abby and Susan complains that she feels nauseated. They wonder if she's pregnant. "I don't even talk to guys unless I have to," she whines. While they press on her belly, Abby smirks, "Are you going to say anything?" They're talking about the s-"Pratt"-er stain on Chen's sweater. Susan winces that she's not sure how, exactly, to broach the subject, much less what to say. "It's got to be something else," she reasons. Abby giggles. "It's just so wrong," Susan blechs. Yes, it is. There's no way Chen would not know about a cum stain on her sweater, much less wear it to work and then loan it to someone. Someone blows a wad on your breasts, you remember it. I'm just saying. Susan remembers that she's treating a patient and asks said patient whether she's got a history of gallstones in the family. "No. Can I die from gallstones?" panics the girl. Susan laughs and assures her she can't, then promises to run tests. She and Abby leave. "The real question is, who does it belong to?" Abby whispers. "Pratt?" Susan shudders. "Frank?" Abby adds. Susan gags. "Jerry?" Abby finishes. Susan outright chokes. "Stop it, you're creeping me out!" she snorts. A mucus-storm bursts right over Susan's head.
In the OR, Romano is guiding a resident called Jensen through Aidan's abscess surgery. "This guy reeks," Jensen observes. Well, yeah. You're cutting up his ass and poking at his innards. Those aren't flowers in there, pal. "Ah, the copper and Clorox aroma of a vigorous mixed bacterial infection," Romano sing-songs. "Smells like surgery." He tries to guide Jensen through the procedure, but Jensen screws up something; I think he moves in the wrong direction and almost compromises the gluteal artery. "I'm having a hard time locating..." panics Jensen. Romano grabs one of the instruments with his right hand, reaching across his body, and tries to both take control and assist, and it leads to more tomfoolery. Jensen shits a brick. "No no no, stop!" Romano yells. Shirley not-so-subtly offers to get Elizabeth. "No," Romano snaps. Jensen shits a small fortress.
Elizabeth is nearby working on Sutter's leg. She's informed that a new vascular surgeon named Dr. Dorset is on the way to help her; on cue, he enters. "Nice of you to finally join us, Dr. Dorset," Elizabeth says, splitting her infinitive like it's a ribcage. "You're in for a long night." Dorset -- played by Bruno Campos, last of NBC's Jesse -- grins and coos, "They call me Fast Eddie for a reason. Several, in fact." Elizabeth is startled. Dorsey announces that he's going to perform a Fogerty embolectomy to remove the shards, which entails getting really drunk and singing "Bad Moon Rising." Elizabeth acts sort of impressed. "I prefer [calling it a] Dorset bulletectomy," Dorset smarms. He inflates a tiny bulb at the end of a long, narrow tube that looks almost like a piece of wire. "Hey, somebody's glad to see me," Dorset cracks as the balloon gets larger. Elizabeth rolls her eyes and stares at her nurses as if to say, "This man thinks he has a dick of gold." Dorset feeds the Fogerty thing into a catheter in Sutter's leg and puts the end of the tube in Elizabeth's hand. He keeps his palm on it, too, as he guides her, so that she can feel what's going on inside the leg. They show this with a lot of close-ups on their touching hands -- her bloodied gloves add an extra-sexy touch, of course -- and Elizabeth's confused, darting eyes. Dorset uses words like "harder" and "feel that right there...yeah" and "rupture," and it's all very erotic until they show close-ups of the nasty red wound that's gaping and raw and nauseous. He then pulls out -- heh -- and the bullet shard clinks into the pan Shirley's holding. "Thank you! I'll be here all week, and don't forget to tip your waitress," he says, cheerfully, exiting. Elizabeth is dumbfounded, and totally hot for his sexy smooth surgeon ass.