Elsewhere in this purgatory of B-plot lust, Fish Lips emerges from an elevator for her clandestine assignation with Snickers. Long story short, Snickers begs off because he's married. The passionless putzes do, however, leave open the door for future illicit violations of Snickers's marital vows. Whatever. Meanwhile, Joyner daydreams in Kellerman's office. Believing he's been smashed into thousands of tiny Kellerman bits on the side of a mountain, she gazes wistfully at the framed self-portrait on his desk, missing her Korean dinner date with Hot Levi in the process. Downstairs, Hot Levi sighs and exits the hospital.
The Halfway House Of My Despair. Our Intrepid Heroes stitch up Sheepish Latino's wound with a bit of twine, and book with the remaining blue-and-white cooler. Out on the highway, they engage in a bit of gallows-humor banter regarding pancreatic anastomoses. Killer mentions his failed marriage. Again. For the fourth time this episode. Wee Willie, gradually realizing that reaching Las Vegas in time for the transplant is an impossibility, thanks Kellerman for his above-and-beyond-the-call actions that day. Obligingly enough, no sooner has Wee Willie done this than the rust-bucket sedan overheats and shuts down, spewing clouds of steam into the arid landscape. Killer and Willie bitch and moan their collective way into the commercial break.
Highway Of My Despair From Hell. Sweaty and dusty Killer and Willie trudge alongside the asphalt, with Willie schlepping the slooshing cooler. It's seven hours since Jolly Green Gina's heart parted ways with the rest of her carcass. In other words, it's an hour past the heart's sell-by date. The Wistful Mandolin Of Medical Mourning plucks away on the soundtrack as Willie relates his tale of woe regarding the Faceless Parentals, and the amount and kind of persuasion they needed to receive before they'd sign the donor release forms. "I told them she had enough life in her forrr ten people," he sighs. Damn, but he's cute in an odd, impish, so-ugly-he's-attractive sort of way. Willie decides they'll bury Jolly Green Gina's heart by the side of the road, where there's lots of land under starry skies above in the wide-open country that she loved. It can be by itself in the evening breeze, listening to the murmur of the cottonwood trees. Don't fence her in, y'all. She's dead, after all.
Some time later, Killer and Willie have finished scraping out a small hole in the dirt with a couple of sticks. They pause to reflect on all the male bonding that's occurred over the last hour. Each eulogizes Jolly Dead Gina in his own way. Then, the invisible spectral presence of Barbra Streisand hovers over Wee Willie's shoulder as he opens the blue-and-white cooler, and -- zoinks! What are these egg salad sandwiches doing in here? D'oh! A Nevada State Trooper pulls up with Wise Guy, who rasps for the benefit of the developmentally challenged in the audience, "The heart got to Vegas! A couple of biker chicks brought it there!" Killer and Willie giggle.