Guests pick up yarmulkes as they enter the ceremony. Nana sits, scanning the room, when she spots -- hey, is that Kenneth from 30 Rock? No, it's just some blond guy with a flat haircut. He's wearing no-fuss wire-rim glasses, so why we're going to spend a whole show figuring this out when he's clearly styled in Hollywood shorthand for "Nazi" is beyond me. Nana asks Lynn (the woman who walked her in earlier) who that is, pointing at him. Nana! Monkeys point! Lynn doesn't know and just figures he's from Shelley's side.
Meanwhile, the "get David drunk" plan doesn't seem to be curing his freakout. He's actively hyperventilating now, so the groomsmen grab his inhaler, and I'd like to ask why, if this guy has an inhaler, that wasn't tried BEFORE the glass of whisky, and I'd also like to point out to one of the other groomsmen that since your asthmatic friend is having trouble breathing, the absolute LEAST you could do is put out your cigarette. The groom stumbles off into a side room while a groomsman throws the camera a double-thumbs-up, like this isn't a LIVE FEED or anything, you don't need to convince anyone watching that everything's OK.
Out in the actual wedding area, another groomsman comes out to announce to everyone that David is "definitely going to run" and they're going to get going here shortly. Meanwhile, Nana is still looking at the blond guy and she starts saying, "It can't be. It can't be true." She stands up, pointing at the guy: "It's him!" she says, but she's only able to say it a couple of times before she turns ashen and starts to collapse, choking. People rush to help her, but suddenly other people have their own problems: People are falling down all over the place. "What's going on!" yells Mrs. Staller, who's unaffected (except for the trauma of watching everyone dropping dead around her, I suppose).
A Det. Burt Manning greets Fringe as she gets out of her car at the Brookline house. He tells them the ME's inside, but they've been put in a "holding pattern" because Fringe asked them not to touch anything. "It's pretty bad," he says, and tells her the current victim count is fourteen ... so far.
Just then, lurching around the corner in fits and starts, is the Bishop shaggin' wagon, being piloted by Walter in the manner of someone with one foot on the gas and one on the brake. Are we supposed to believe Peter was OK with driving all the way from Boston like this? When they're supposed to be getting to a crime scene? As Walter gently bumps the station wagon into the recycling bin and garbage bags that are an awfully nice touch of landscaping at this nice house on the day of a wedding, Walter reminisces about his own wedding to Peter's mother. "I won't deny I was never happier," he says, adding that he kept his tuxedo in the hopes that one day he would have a son who would wear it. Peter wryly notes that styles change, and is informed that "purple never goes out of style." Whoop! Walter's still crazy. Better get back to St. Claire's! Walter tells Peter that his wedding day may come sooner than you think. "Do you think she'll call me 'Dad'?" he asks, but Peter has no idea who Walter's talking about. "Agent Fringe," says Walter. Peter just laughs and guesses the answer would be no. "Don't look at me like that. She's just what you need. Someone who can see right through you," says Walter, and that's when they're greeted by Fringe and Det. Manning, and Walter's all, "You look lovely, Agent Fringe," and makes Peter say so too, and then Walter goes off with Manning while Fringe looks at Walter's lovely parking job. "Lose a bet?" she asks Peter. "It was either that or flying lessons," says Peter, and they head inside.