Walter looks bummed, and says they should get started. "I was hoping to avoid this," he says, and walks out of the room. Peter follows, and Olivia does too, still glancing at the objects in the room. She stops by the door, where there's a giraffe height chart. Several names are penciled on the wall beside it, including little Olive D (coincidentally the worst-selling juice in the Sunny Delight family) at 38 inches.
Peter follows Walter through a room of equipment covered with sheets, and he pulls a sheet off one piece of equipment that looks like an old dentist's chair with a headrest (or head restraint). In an adjoining room, Walter scans the stacks of banker's boxes for one marked "Patient Files, Note Books, Research Documents," with "BISHOP, W." and "BELL, W." typed on the label. The box was archived by an E. Partridge, as it happens. He takes the lid off it and starts rifling through it when he comes across a case that contains a pair of round-framed eyeglasses. He smiles, and puts them on, and then buffs a steel tray so he can grin at his bespectacled face in the reflection.
Meanwhile, Olivia has gone outside to sit on a swingset and mope. Peter strolls out and takes the adjacent swing. "I have a freakishly good memory. I remember everything. But not this," Olivia tells him, and Peter wonders if that might be a good thing.
Walter comes outside and asks if she's ready, and then suggests she might want to change into something more comfortable. Oh, it's one of those bra-and-panties experiments of Walter's, I guess.
Inside, Walter hooks Olivia up to a bunch of electrodes attached to a rainbow of colours, one for every flavour in a pack of Skittles. As he does so, he tells her, "Perception is largely an emotional response. How we feel affects the way we see the world." It was his and Bell's hypothesis that extreme emotions would stimulate perception, that acute feelings of fear and love or anger would heighten the awareness. "Open the mind, as it were. The drugs help, of course," he says. Uh, yeah. Yeah, usually ingesting drugs will alter your perception of things. If I eat an orange and smoke a joint, it's not the orange that made me mellow.
Anyway, Peter hooks the Cortexiphan -- a dark fluid -- on Olivia's IV pole but waits before plugging it into her left arm. He asks if she's sure she wants to do it, and she nods, but then Walter is all confused about which arm should actually have the drip, and he does a little belly-rubbing, head-patting thing before deciding that the left arm is, in fact, the correct one. At some point, you gotta figure that it would be just a lot easier for Walter to write down actual information instead of all his mnemonics and stuff.