I'm kidding about the Atkins, by the way. You will pry the potatoes out of my cold dead Irish-on-one-side hands. Rolf would be having potatoes right now too, if he weren't in the middle of a lunchtime seizure. It may or may not be relevant that his arms are spread out and it looks like he's crucified. See Rolf foam at the mouth. Foam, Rolf, foam.
Meanwhile, Peter's chilling like a well, not really like a villain, since the episode's overt baddie is busy having a full-on neural meltdown in the Androscoggin brig. Dr. Draper is talking with two nurses about why Peter's alone (his roommates have a nasty habit of dying) and why his numbers don't look so good. The bluff and hearty nurse snaps, "At least he's not paralyzed. How many miracles do you guys want in one day?" "Seven. It's a number with a nicely mythic resonance," Dr. Draper snaps. Oh, she does not. She replies, "As many as we can get." She grabs Carrie Von Trier (real subtle, Steve) and heads out while the other nurse rolls her eyes.
Mrs. D and Dr. Hook enter his office. Dr. Hook is looking a little shaken, and Mrs. D immediately starts in with, "What did you see, Dr. Hook? What was on top of the elevator? What did you see on top of that elevator? What about prom, Blaine? What about prom?" Dr. Hook isn't sure. Ah, there's the Andrew McCarthy I remember from the 1980s. I realize many of you may have swooned over him, but I was always crushing on the James Spader characters in those movies. Say what you will about Rip or Steff (hee! Those names!), they had stared unblinking into the big void where their ethics were and come back from the experience looking hot. Morally vacant, but hot. Anyway, Dr. Hook and Mrs. D establish that he saw the little girl clinging to the elevator cables, and Mrs. D begins protesting, "That little girl needs help! She's calling out for it." Just park a TV on every floor and hire Zelda Rubenstein to wander around calling, "Go into the light! Go into the light!" Dr. Hook fails to suggest this and thereby shut Mrs. D up.