Stegman barges right in just then and pulls "the world-famous Dr. Hook" from the room. "Looks like Dr. Hook is in trouble," Rickman voices over. "Looks like Dr. Hook is in trouble," Bad-alie says out loud. Sigh. There comes a level of creative power a person reaches when said person can write or create something and no one's allowed to tell him it might not be such a good idea. It's why Gangs of New York was overlong, comically bad trash. Would anyone like to hazard a guess as to why this observation might be applicable here?
Druse kicks it séance-style in the solarium as Flute-y Tang: The Very Best Of Zamfir underscores the action on the soundtrack. She holds hands with a bunch of other crazies and tries to pull forth "a child…come to us and speak to us!" In increasingly quicker cuts, we're back outside Rickman's room, where Stegman shows Hook what he believes to be Druse's perfectly clear MRI. Hook, though, points to one shadowy corner of the picture and argues it could be "a UBO." A what? Oh, don't worry. They'll explain it to you if you give them time. Like, exactly three seconds, for example, as Stegman laughs derisively (and on this show, besides "crazily," is there really any other kind?) and shoots back, "Unidentified Bright Object! What's next, giant alligators in the sewers?" Yes. His official diagnosis is the urban mythical condition known as "spiders in the beehive hairdo." Stegman walks away and tells Hook to join him, insisting, "I'll show you how we deal with the Mrs. Druses of the world in Boston." Hook begs off, saying that he's been on duty for the last sixteen hours, but Stegman really insists. They fight about the existence of UBOs, Stegman speeching, "Some people wish rain were beer. But it ain't." Who wishes that? Do people really talk like this? And could it really be that Stegman is on his way to catch Mrs. Druse right in the middle of her séance? But what about all of the warnings she was given? I say, WHAT ABOUT ALL OF THE WARNINGS?
The Guy Who Hit The Guy Who Isn't Stephen King is wheeled (when most of your stage directions occur in the passive voice, you've got yourself a shitty part, is what you've got) into Rickman's room. Bad-alie raises a protest that her husband was to have a private room for their strained, mind-melding identical dialogue to unfold in the privacy of them, the camera crew, and an ever-decreasing number of disenchanted television viewers, but the nurse apologizes and says it's just temporary. Quite a match. I think the hospital administrators were the same people who conducted the search that landed me with my freshman college roommate, ruining a solid fourth of what you think when you're fifty were the best four years of your life and landing me with an individual who, after convoluted stories and a dash of exaggerated collegiate histrionics, my friends and I nicknamed "Bloody Undies." I'm just saying, if these people think they have it tough... "Oh, man, you've got to be kidding me," Rickman voices over, opening his eyes while his wife's back is turned. Oy, the anteater is back, and Rickman's eyes swell with terror. Bad-alie notes this, and pulls the nurse away from her current case of attending to someone actively undergoing trauma to tell her that her husband has scaredy-eyes. The nurse says that he's fine and was probably just having a bad dream, and that Bad-alie should just talk to him to keep him connected. "That's what Hook said," Bad-alie tells her, and the nurse takes a moment to appreciate Hook, because she was ten in 1986 and who didn't think Blane was, like, totally dreamy? ["[raises hand] But I was thirteen, so what do I know?" -- Sars]
"Someone is coming," Druse says. "He seeks one in this circle. He's getting closer." Elevator doors open, and Stegman steps out as Druse predicts, "He's a pitiful, terrible man. He means me harm." Stegman bursts through the doors and meets Druse, whom he tells to come with him. WHAT ABOUT ALL OF THE WARNINGS?