In Trauma Green, Weaver and Gallant check out Car Accident Dad. A truck fell on him, it seems, turning his face purple. Susan yells for help in Trauma Yellow, and Weaver calls out, "Take a deep breath." Susan is trying to intubate, and is nervous, having trouble working the scope to get a clear shot down his throat.
Sketchy Dad and his prim wife are arguing; Carter interrupts, and the mother stalks off with baby Aidan. "What's your relationship with your nanny, again?" Carter asks. Sketchy Dad reminds us all that she's been a live-in worker for four years. "Have you been sleeping with her?" Carter asks. Wow, he's so calm and casual about it. Sketchy Dad doesn't seem to appreciate the question. "She's pregnant and she says the baby's yours," Carter adds for effect. Sketchy Dad rails that even if such madness happened to be true -- but it's madness! Untrue madness! -- it wouldn't be any of Carter's dirty business. "It is the minute she became my patient," Carter argues. "She won't be your patient much longer," steams Sketchy Dad, toddling off to skeeve out somebody else.
Eric then slides into the ER like Tom Cruise sliding on the wood floors in Risky Business, but minus the undies and sunglasses. "Where've you been?" Carter asks jovially. "Jody's driving me nuts," groans Eric. "Nothing like a road trip to bring out your issues." Imitating a flight attendant, he intones, "Please limit your personal baggage to two carry-on items." He doesn't let Carter get a word in as he talks about how often Jody's bladder needed emptying on the car trip. "I thought you flew," Carter says. This triggers another babbling rant about how Jody gets sick every time she moves, then insults her crazy parents, calling Mrs. Jody "too much woman for me to handle" and "sumo-big, minus the agility." TES's delivery of that line is really funny, actually -- it comes paired with this matter-of-fact knowing nod, as if to suggest that Carter's well aware of how well those wacky sumos can work it. Carter is amused, if a little frightened by all the words flooding from Eric's mouth, and all the large, dimpled imagery they've spawned in his fertile mind.
Luka promises Nick that he'll check on his kid brother. "Will you talk to my dad?" begs Nick. "I'll do better -- I'll convince him you're a hero," Luka promises. They load Nick onto an elevator; Abrams is a few paces behind, bratting that an in-house doctor could've handled this. "You're the [toe] specialist," Luka points out. "There's a pellet in the other [toe]," Abrams says, annoyed and refusing to guarantee that he will be able to do anything to save Nick's sight. What's with doctors not wanting to do their jobs today? This guy resents being called to work, and Elizabeth's all up in a whipple about the whipple. I know it's not always fun, but people, it's your JOB to try and fix people who are broken. Stop with the whining and just do it. "Perhaps you could've come sooner," Luka says. "[Podiatry] isn't emergency medicine," sneers Abrams. Um, it can be, though, right? Like when a patient comes in after an accidental tragic sight-threatening toe shooting? Sounds like an emergency to me, bucko. Abrams complains that most guys wait a week before performing this operation. "All you did was stop me from shooting an eighty-two," he pouts. "Tell that to him," Luka spits.