Back at the Fringe lab, Astrid and Walter are ... cleaning up, or puttering around, or NOT GOING HOME TO GET SOME DAMN SLEEP, when Astrid says in all the excitement of today, she hasn't overlooked the fact that Walter created a teleportation machine. "Which, despite the fact that it kills you, is pretty damn cool." As Walter turns toward her, it looks for a few terrifying seconds that they're going to start making out. "Kills you? It does something unthinkable, but it doesn't kill you," says Walter. He walks away, and he doesn't explain, and Astrid doesn't ASK him to explain.
Olivia, meanwhile, is strolling through chaos at Boston General, with doctors and nurses and dudes on cellphones milling about in slow motion. She makes her way to Jones' room, where Jones' bed lies empty, but there's a huge gaping hole in the wall, giving her a lovely view of the Boston night. You know, Walter, if this is what you mean by "unthinkable," shouldn't you have maybe, I don't know, TOLD SOMEONE about it? "Oh, fellows, before you take this person to a public hospital, you should know that he's going to transform or something or turn into a giant ball of flame or develop super strength, or something along those lines, enough to be able to rip a wrecking ball-sized chunk out of the wall. So, you know, heads up." Olivia turns to see, scrawled on the back of the door, "YOU PASS" in big letters.
Back at the Fringe lab, Walter's leafing through the manuscript again, though thankfully not on the crapper. Through glimpses at the page, we notice that the letter "y" is off kilter, printed entirely above the line of text instead of hanging partially underneath, as normal. Walter looks like something just occurred to him.
Olivia's apartment. Her cellphone rings. It's Nina Sharp, who says, basically, "Hey, remember when I said there were only tests done at Ohio State University? I was, conveniently plotwise, wrong. Turns out there were tests done in Jacksonville too, at a military base! Well, ta!"
Back at the Fringe lab, Walter pulls a typewriter down from the shelf, and rolls a fresh sheet of paper into it. He starts typing a word: Abilit. Closeup of the Y key. He hits it. And on the page is a y that sticks up over the line, instead of hanging below it. Walter looks stunned. Does he not remember writing the manifesto? Or is he upset because he never did get that damn coffee cake?