In the time it's taken ABC to sell you stuff you don't need and probably can't afford, Sam has made his way into the eerily deserted hospital and ridden the elevator up to the third floor. His wanderings take him past the watchful eye of a security camera to an empty room that has an invitingly open window. There's also a radio playing "Going to Make a Time Machine" by The Majestic Arrows, and in case the subtlety of that musical selection has escaped you, the lead singer is crooning about how he's "going to go back in the past and relive all the good times I've had." Of course, with the clock on the wall giving Sam less than three hours to take care of business, this would probably not qualify as one of those good times. Mike H. directs him to keep walking down the hall and head off to the right. That would be the Psych Ward, in case you're not familiar with the Memorial Hospital layout.

This not one of those Psych Wards filled with hell-raising individuals bent on revolting against the system and its maddening conformity, by the way. Most of the patients seem to be milling about docilely. One patient's in a wheel chair parked next to a guy in a lab coat who appears tied up -- let's save time and say that it's Dr. Schwan. We also see an orderly who seems to be seriously reconsidering his career choices. Oh, and there's a guy with a gun pointed at Sam's head. Michael H., I presume? He orders the orderly to shut the door and demands to know where that EEG machine he wanted is. Sam begins his spiel about how he's here to help work things out, but Michael H. interrupts him by slamming him into the cage door and screaming "Where's my machine?" So... you're just visiting the Psych Ward, you say? Anyhow, the machine is vital because the bound-and-gagged Dr. Schwan needs it to perform an operation on Michael H.'s kid brother. See, Brother H. was diagnosed with schizophrenia and, rather than be a burden to his big brother, went to Dr. Schwan for a consult. Dr. Schwan's diagnosis: There's nothing wrong with you, young man, that removing part of your brain won't fix. The end product of that operation is the vacant-eyed youth staring back at Sam in the wheel chair. "Four years he's been like this," Michael H. spits. But with the help of that EEG machine, Dr. Schwan has apparently told Michael H. that he'll be able to do an operation that will set things right. Presumably, that means Dr. Schwan plans to use the machine to beat Michael H. senseless so that all this talk of reversing lobotomies will cease.