Rolf begs to differ with a heartfelt "Rot in Hell, Harriet." Harriet continues via letter, "I'm praying for you, honey. And I love you soooooo much." Anyone else here got the feeling Rolf and Harriet may not really communicate all that effectively? Harriet adds a P.S. in a flirtatious whisper: "I did like you asked me. See you soon."
Rolf looks thoughtful, then peels something -- I can't tell what -- off the paper and sticks it in his mouth. The camera perspective switches to Harriet doing a Hail Mary as she licks something and sticks it to the paper. On the other end, Rolf licks his fingers. While I'm complaining about the shots and editing on this show -- I love how you can see stuff that makes no never-mind whatsoever (i.e. Rolf looking out the window), but God forbid the camera actually focus on any of the details that might come in handy later.
It appears to have stopped raining in Harriet's neck of the woods as she finishes plastering the paper with stickers/LSD-impregnated stamps/whatever and knocks off a few more lines of the rosary. She then picks up a framed photo of Rolf, tells him, "Okay, baby, I'm coming," over the sound of the rain (I know…), and puts some little white pills on the picture while excitedly repeating that she's coming. Back in his jail cell, Rolf takes off his glasses and snaps the earpiece neatly. Out pop some more white pills. Wait -- his glasses double as a pillbox? Where do you get those? My Oliver Peoples frames barely stay on my nose -- forget about storing my allergy meds in there. I feel all ripped off now. At least, I would if I had actually paid for the frames, as opposed to my insurer doing it for me. Harriet lovingly takes the pills. Rolf takes his like he's on a dare. Harriet lies back and smiles as the water continues to run down the windshield and those damn kids keep "aah-eee-aaaah-eeee-oooooooh"-ing in the background.
Back at the hospital, Abel and Christa appear out of nowhere to hang with Dr. Hook and Mrs. D. Dr. Hook makes the intros, and Mrs. D warmly says, "It's lovely to meet both of you. Are you brother and sister?" Abel says, "We are all brothers." Christa adds, "We are all sisters." Mrs. D beams and says, "That's very Christian." Dr. Hook asks how Abel and Christa always know what to bring, and asks them to open -- "Car two," Abel finishes. "Always car two," Christa adds. We get a shot of Christa smiling, and then go to the far-off top of the elevator car, where the doll is resting on top. Dr. Hook opens the elevator shaft door, which says more about the hospital's safety record than the whole "Woooooooo! It was built on eeeeevil ground!" conceit does. Unsurprisingly, Christa and Abel are familiar with both the doll and its owner. Mrs. D is distracted by this, but Dr. Hook is more interested in watching Christa get the doll. Mrs. D snatches it out of the butterfly net Christa used and breathes reverently, "It's handmade." Dr. Hook looks frankly skeptical. Or maybe that's just Andrew McCarthy's default expression now that he's gotten past the shellshocked look he wore through much of Pretty in Pink and Less Than Zero. Still, there are worse expressions to have your face permanently frozen into: he could be channeling the same bug-eyed evil leer Judd Nelson's been wearing in those I'm Chaining Women Underwater! 'Cause I'm Creepy! movies he makes for the USA channel. Mrs. D is thrilled, because it's very, very old. She asks the doll, "If you could talk, what would you say?" And because I've read a lot of Stephen King, and I can still remember the story about the evil monkey toy (even if I don't recall the title), I'm half-waiting for the doll to say, "I'd say, 'Hey, check me out. I'm a talking doll.' We'd start small, since you'd probably be as dense and credulous as that bore on Friday nights." And look, here I am, outing myself as a Stephen King reader. There goes my spot on the Harold Bloom Christmas card list. Ah, well -- I don't have the aura of election on me anyway, now that I've gone on Atkins.