But since Farnworthbot wouldn't notice the chill that's descended on the room, she blurts out, "Deus ex machina!" which Walter translates as "the hand of god" which is a little plan English than "god out of the machine." Farnsworthbot babbles away that the creation of the toxin would have required the assumption that the compounds could intermingle, except that they don't, except when they're all mixed together, which is unpredictable. "You're saying that a person would have to see that the chemicals had already been combined in order to know how to combine them?" asks Peter, fulfilling his usual "let me break it down for the audience" role. Somehow she's managed to calculate the chances of that happening as less than one-tenth of one percent, and says there's a root of the equation that is outside their realm of causality, ergo "dues ex machina," the hand of god. Peter: "Are you trying to tell us that God taught our perp how to mix a mythical poison?" A giddy Walter "explains" (like any of this means anything) that it's the only thing that makes sense, which is hilarious. I mean, it's not like the landscape of scientific discovery is riddled with accidental inventions, but let's go with "godlike powers" as the ONLY THING THAT MAKES SENSE. I mean, it turns out to be true here, but come ON. Anyway, Walter wants the Farnsworthbot's help to identify the origin of the component compounds. "I think I love her," he tells the rest of the group.
Fauxlivia figures out that she's not going home any time soon. "Cold Chinese in the fridge?" she asks, like make yourself at home, why don't you. Peter sighs and says he'll check while Olivia keeps making awkward faces.
Elsewhere, someone is buying a bottle of gin in the middle of the afternoon and there is emphasis placed on the liquor store guy slipping it into a brown paper bag so we know we're dealing with a drunk here. She walks out of the store, alternating between looking hungrily at the paper bag and clutching it to her chest, but as she gets down the block, she pulls it out from the bag slightly, and then forces herself to dump it in the trash. She walks through some sort of street corridor to the next block, which is where Neil Chung catches up with her, telling her that she's putting up a good fight, but she's not going to win. She's too surprised to answer, and as Neil continues, telling her that she's going to take that drink and it's all downhill from there, she turns and starts walking away from him. "But you know the saddest part? The drinking doesn't kill you. Instead, it shatters the lives of everyone around you, everyone you love," he says. She's walking slowly, listening, and then she turns around as he says that first her boyfriend will be killed in a car crash with her behind the wheel, and her brother will lose his wife and daughter, alienating them in a futile attempt to save her. "No one can see the future," she says. Neil agrees with her, saying there's no future, no past. "Everything happens right now," he says, all up in her face by this point, and he holds some little device -- different from his other thing, but it's got a blue light that goes to red as it sprays some sort of mist in the woman's face, and we go to black immediately.