Kevin wheels into the kitchen, where the rest of the family is getting breakfast, reading the newspaper on his lap aloud to all: "'Chief Girardi's courage in confronting the corruption that has plagued Arcadia for years cannot be underestimated. He should be treated as a hero, not a pariah.'" Joan finds this odd and asks, "One of those flesh-eating Amazonian death fish?" Luke: "That's 'piranha.' A 'pariah' is an outcast, one of the unclean." Joan asks Kevin for the Metro section while Will points out that the last time they wrote an editorial about him, he was called a racist. Kevin points out that Rebecca called him a hero after the abduction at gunpoint. Luke adds, "Yeah, and after Joan's psycho gunned-up prom date." Except that wasn't a prom, was it? Luke's usually more precise than that. Will complains, "Your boss never gets it right. I wasn't a hero either time." Joan sits down in the dining room with the paper and some juice. Helen: "She got it right this time: you are a hero." The phone rings as Joan reads to herself: "Page fourteen...obituaries..." Will answers it while Luke puts his bowl in the sink and says, "Okay, listen, family...when Grace gets here we have to knuckle down for the science fair, so if you people could just keep it down..." Kevin: "Then you could make out with her?" Luke says Grace kissed him once as a political statement: "I don't expect it to happen again." Kevin laughs to himself. Suddenly Joan is crying and saying, "Oh, my God...I don't believe it...Rocky...Rocky died." Frink: "Once again, so much for the ignored youngest child." Helen and Kevin come into the dining room to see what's going on. Kevin asks: "That little kid you babysat?" Luke watches from behind the pass-through window. Helen strokes Joan's back as she sobs that his funeral is today. Will walks up, oblivious, since he just got off the phone, saying he has to go into the office. He asks what happened; Joan tells him. Will and Helen glance at each other, probably wondering what manner of bizarre behaviour this crisis will presage in their daughter. Helen whispers, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." Joan seems on the verge of collecting herself when a fresh wave of grief hits her and she puts her hands over her face. If you're thinking you might need some Kleenex at this point, you'd be well advised to go get some. This is the tip of the iceberg.