Welcome back to ER for Season 11. Now that Without A Trace has beaten an original episode of this show for the first time, do you think TPTB will recognize that it needs to euthanize the dinosaur before it has a heart attack and keels over in the middle of a big city, crushing thousands of residents with a rotting carcass no one can move for at least five years because it's too heavy? ...Or are we already there?
Everything you need to know: Neela abruptly quit her internship at the University of Michigan. Sandy Lopez died, and her parents sued Weaver for custody of the child Sandy delivered. Weaver made a tearful plea to the judge. Sam fled Chicago to get away from her creepy ex, and Luka was bummed. Carter and Kem's baby died. And Pratt treated an overweight Fry Cook, who then needed a ride home from the hospital. There was also a lot of other misery, loads of vomit, and a killer helicopter, but that's left out, because there's only so much mediocrity one can relive.
Here, the show blends the last bit of the previously-on segment with the first new scenes of the season. I've already recapped some of the shenanigans, so I'll pick up with the first bit of new footage: the rogue Buick is bumping Pratt's Chrysler Average while continuing to shoot at it, offended at having such tough competition for Most Mediocre Product of American Vehicular Engineers. Pratt's weaving in and out of the bridge traffic as the Buick gives chase. This mad gunman is the worst. He's aiming at a giant car with three people inside, he's got a lot of lead to pump into it, and he can't hit a damn thing. Not even an ear. It's like the tank psycho: just crazy enough to try it, but not insane enough to finish the job. I'm getting sick of Chicago's inept crazies -- can't these people get it together? Can't they organize?
Faced with gunfire and a drag race between two cars that more befit eighty-year-old retirees, Chen considers what she might say that could be the least helpful, and burps up, "We've got to get away from him!" Pratt almost pulls over to think about this one, because wanting to flee the mad gunman is a fairly radical point of view. Instead, though, he keeps driving and hoping that speed and some weaving will shake the Buick from his tail. But Chen won't shut up about her idea. "Get away from him!" she screams. And, two seconds later: "Get away from him!" Pratt shows admirable restraint in not telling Chen to shut her piehole, because she's not the one trying to control the wheel at a high speed while bullets whiz past her big empty noggin. I sort of wish he'd pull over long enough to dump her curbside.