An older guy from the accident rolls into Abby's care with a chest abrasion. Weaver orders a few tests and clears the way for him to go up to CT if the technicians are free first. "Want to go when he does?" Abby asks. Weaver declines, saying she can't leave the floor because she's the only Attending. She tells Abby to go.

In the room adjacent to Trauma Green, Gimpy is still waiting for his leg bone to be returned inside his skin. He is understandably miffed that he can still see it. He's dated people for shorter periods of time. "Someone needs to shut him up," Malarkey crabs, working with Coop on Idiot Driver. They toil for a bit while Idiot excitedly recounts details from the accident. "Hey, where's Janie?" he then asks casually. "You're just now asking?" mutters Coop. Malarkey determines that Idiot is okay, but that his belly's tender, and orders Coop to perform a rectal. Coop's like, "The hell?" Malarkey pretends he's better used seeking information on Janie, and actually, considering what we've seen of his medical skills, he might not be wrong. "You're going up my butt?" pales Idiot. Coop looks at him. "Just one finger," he says reassuringly. Hee.

Malarkey trots into Trauma Yellow and starts sassing Pratt about how Gimpy is screaming and threatening to sue almost everyone for not tending to him. Just then, Janie loads up the NBC Vomit Comet 3.0: Now With Red Food Coloring, and spits up a whole mouthful of blood. Malarkey pales and tries to flee. "Where the hell you going?" Pratt booms. "Bathroom," Malarkey twitters nervously, fleeing. Pratt groans but lets him go, because he's the only responsible one around here, Janie's barfing blood, and it's his episode so he's going to make sure he rules the roost. He cleans Janie up and suctions the blood out of her mouth. Jerry pokes his head in and informs him that Hampton called and is refusing to see little Damian The Quarter-Eater until tomorrow morning. That, I don't get. The kid's not a slot machine. He's not built to suck down money. It seems like a good idea to get the quarter out, no? Jerry also merrily shares that Hampton's planning to complain to Romano. "That all she said?" Pratt grouches. "No. She said you're an asshole, too," Jerry grins gleefully. No bleep. In fact, things went a little quiet before he said it. It's kind of a special moment, given that Pratt is often a complete and utter asshole -- in a way, I think Jerry and Dr. Hampton speak for the world. We fade to black grateful that someone over in the story department understands which body part Pratt most resembles.