Abby passes two nurses speaking Tagalog. They ask her to cover for Melinda in triage, and Abby frustratedly agrees. "Sure, love to, triage is my personal favorite, thanks for asking," she complains to herself under hear breath. Pratt oozes up behind her and flicks on the radio at the front desk. "Wild Thing" is playing, and he grabs Randi for a dance. Interestingly, Mekhi Phifer has absolutely zero rhythm. He looks vaguely like Bill Cosby dancing stiltedly in the credits of his old show. Richard Simmons is possessed of more innate funk.
Amused but wishing the night would pass a little faster, Abby enters triage for her stint and begins treating a toothache patient. But Damian returns with his father, who explains that his son got queasy in the parking lot, and he's thinking it might be an effect of the anesthesia. Just then, Vomit Comet 3.0 does its foul deed and explodes blood all over the triage desk's plastic sneezeguard. Abby bolts to his side and lies him down, yelling for Pratt. "Page Surgery," Pratt says, turning pale. He and Abby swap nervous looks. We fade to black wondering if they're prepping Damian for Operation Nickel Slot, wherein he's converted to a machine that takes smaller denominations.
It's 3:02 AM, according to The Graphic Of Hey, It Actually Is 3:02 AM as I'm Typing This. Pratt escorts Damian up to the OR, where Elizabeth is with him, appalled that Pratt attempted something so risky as whatever that Foley catheter thing was, and convinced that it led to the boy's bloody downfall. "Are you out of your mind?" she hisses. Pratt insists that the blood exploded from his chest ten minutes after the procedure. "The quarter must've been in there too long," he says. Oh, you think? Shouldn't Dr. Hampton be getting torn a new one for refusing to come in and help? Disgusted, Elizabeth hands him off to Dr. Diego, explaining that Damian's esophagus is busted and he needs aortal repair, then spits, "Apparently not all ER residents can walk on water." She then steams that he's damn lucky Damian blew up while they were still here, or the kid would be dead.
The guy who crashed in CT gets wheeled out, followed by a glum Weaver. She and Pratt make eye contact and say nothing.
Back downstairs, Pratt gets called to Ed Gamble's side. His wife explains nervously that he slumped to the floor as they were preparing to leave. They hook him up to a monitor; he's lying there with his eyes open, looking creepy and kind of dead. Coop joins them as Pratt exposits that Ed seemed totally normal, other than being a nutcase. "Young, healthy guy with transient loss of speech," muses Coop. He asks for a Sonosite. Pratt explains that his head CT was negative and curtly tells Coop he's got this one. Calmly, Coop continues, asking, "Any risk factors for stroke?" The wife freaks out. Pratt brushes him off and orders someone to call CT, but Coop has found something on the Sonosite -- a carotid dissection. He hands the Sonosite to Pratt, whose face registers that Coop bested him. Coop is awesome about it, though -- just very efficient and low-key and cute. Pratt reluctantly explains to Ed's wife that Ed's got a tear in one of his main arteries, which caused a blood clot. Duvata pops up and tells Pratt, "Your open-fracture patient demands to be euthanized." Hee. Pratt's upset that Gimpy hasn't gone up to the OR.