Hello, all. Demian here, stepping into Niki's stylish pumps to fill you in on the goings on at Mission General while Niki takes a bit of time off from the hee-larious HMO hijinks to enjoy her birthday. Please be patient. Geddit? "Patient"? 'Cause it's set in a hospital, and hospitals have...okay, I'll shut up now.
Previously on MDs: Class-conscious Doc Joyner was most displeased to learn that Hot Levi toiled as a lowly security guard while her diametrically-opposed colleague Doc Dalgety got schmoopy with the Jolly Maid in the MRI room. Then a very, very bad man took some very, very fast-acting hydrocodone tablets, plowed into a bus stop, and squished the schmoopy maid like a bug. After the episode's director went all John Wells on our collective ass with the jerky camera and The Pounding Drums Of Medical Crisis and the "On my count!" and the "PADDLES!" and such, Jolly Maid Gina flatlined and turned into Jolly Green Gina. Because, you know, she's now about as sentient as a can of spinach. So to speak. Ahem.
Oh, come on. How much sympathy do you expect me to have for a character with a three-episode story arc?
We start at the Golden Gate Bridge, a depressingly familiar sight made that much more depressing by the crappy digital overlay of "fog" that "obscures" the uppermost reaches of the support towers. A cross-fade takes us to The Bus Stop Of Blossoming Romance Cut Tragically Short. The camera pans down through some more crappily overlayed "fog" to reveal Wee Willie Dalgety staring forlornly at the scene of the accident, which has been cordoned off with yellow police tape. Please take no offense at the "Wee Willie" thing. It's just a convenient nickname, not some cheap slam regarding John Hannah's diminutive stature. As a matter of fact, John Hannah captured my heart forever when he killed Gwyneth Paltrow in Sliding Doors four years ago. What's that? "She was hit by a truck, moron," I hear you say? Whatever. Gwynnie got hit by a truck while running towards Mr. Hannah, and that's good enough for me. No one expects the Spanish Inquisition, indeed. Anyway, as forlorn Willie stares and stares while uncaring passersby grumble about the interrupted bus service, Wee Willie's voice-over kicks in. "Yourrr daughterrr was an incredibly beautiful perrrson," he burrs, "and an absolute tigerrr in the sack." Kidding with that last bit. The scene cross-fades again as the voice-over continues. Wee Willie's attempting to persuade Jolly Green Gina's faceless parents to donate her orrrgans. If they agree to do so, he argues, they "can bring some meaning to this senseless death." Faceless Mom gasps, sobs, shudders, presses a Kleenex to her face, and collapses against the presumably stoic Faceless Dad. Nice try, Faceless Parentals, but no SAG card for either of you. Wee Willie looks shattered. About the maid. I'm guessing he couldn't care less about the union membership.
Gregarious Thor, hale and hearty and fully recovered from his unfortunate run-in with the crafty Chinese chicken, barrels through the physicians' staging area and bellows something about burritos for breakfast. An underling gives him a string of bullets regarding the department's current cases, and the only thing I understood out of the entire list was "pneumonia." Gregarious Thor shouts some orders as the lovely and talented William Fichtner lopes through the room. Thor sidles over to him and confides, "I heard your friend Ryder surrendered to the police this morning." Oh yeah? Well I heard the cops already had him handcuffed to a gurney last night. So you can go ahead and fire the continuity editor. Thor's flagellating himself for the fatal Vicodin prescription. Kellerman reminds Thor Ryder altered the scrip himself; therefore, there's no need for guilt on Thor's part. Thor mumbles in agreement as Kellerman breezes on out of there with a clipboard, but it's clear the gregarious one still blames himself, and likely will do so for quite some time. Thor shrugs it off, however, when a pair of EMTs wheel a fresh patient into the trauma room. More for his own benefit than for the others still present, he grandly announces, "All right, people, somebody's gonna die today and tomorrow and the next day, so let's get to work!" Unless the underling cowering by the whiteboard aspires to follow in Thor's footsteps as The Butcher Of Mission General, that's not a terribly inspiring bit of rhetoric.