Carter enters the lounge, where Benton is flipping through his pile of med-school applications. Carter asks why they're in two piles, and Benton says that one pile is the applicants who'll get interviews, and the other pile is those who won't. Carter asks whether Benton has some kind of "special secret formula" to determine which applicants go where, and Benton drones, "GPA times competitive factor plus MCAT scores. Over twenty-five, you get an interview." "You don't read the letters of recommendation?" Carter asks. "After the interview," says Benton. Carter comments, "Poor kids. I don't know if I would have made it in if I'd had to interview with you. How'd you get on the committee?" Benton quietly replies, "I'm busy, Carter." Carter asks if Benton talked to Weaver, and Benton says he did. Carter, deeply ashamed, stammers, "It was nothing. It was...a slip -- not even a slip, you know? I threw them up!" He walks out. Benton says nothing. Okay, now I feel bad for Carter, because Benton's disapproval has to be a very heavy burden. Plus, Lisa's congratulation of his honesty must seem a lot warmer and sweeter by comparison.