The toughs look on from afar, doing endless justice to the stage direction of "with chins tipping haughtily upward," as He Drives With Enormous Horsepower deals a swift right kick to the driver's side rear door, and the car alarm spins down comically and dies. He gestures back towards the toughs, who tip their chins up so haughtily that their haughtiness could be charted at a perfect 45-degree angle on an XY axis and measured mathematically. They laugh and offer their thumbs up, because Tangential Characters Engaged In Quirky Doings usually seem to get along, unless one of them is a midget.

Inside the titular hospital that is kingly, quirky though somewhat less tangential character Dr. Jesse "Ain't Too Proud To Begley" James scoops up stray buttons underneath his desk and searches futilely for whatever qualities once made him a believable television doctor. He explains, "Sorry about that, Steg. Turns out there's a fault line under the hospital. Continental drift. Something of that nature. Sure wish we'd known. Would've built on the other side of the river." But if you'd done that, the hospital wouldn't have been quite so haaaaaaaaaaaaaunted. It would have been merely haunted-adjacent. Which, come to think of it, might have been slightly more appropriate for a show that's, well, looking only good-adjacent at the moment. Steg (may I call you "Steg"?) asks if this kind of thing happens a lot, and Dr. James collects some stray leaflets (which, though they can't make any noise because they're just refined papyrus and ink, almost certainly have the lyrics to "Red Dragon Tattoo" on them, just to insure that that song is never out of our heads for long) and responds that there have been two or three tremors this year alone. "But the geologist the keepers of the Kingdom have brought up from Boston assures us that they'll stop soon." Collecting the tattered remnants of his workplace superiority and smoothing down the wispy cotton candy hair of his determinedly circus-y head, Dr. James makes it back to the chair while finishing the thought, "But you know geologists. To them, soon can mean five centuries." Ah, geologist humor. The great social equalizer. Regardless of race, finance, or social standing, a good joke about rocks has the universalizing effect of causing the hearer to crinkle his nose, cock his head slightly, and upwardly inflect, "Hmmm?" But ol' Dr. James can get away with it. Because of how quirky he is.