The camera sweeps to an exterior shot of the doors. Dalgety and Kellerman burst through them, their faces anxious as they rush toward the bus stop. Sirens are blaring, doctors are racing around, people are leaking bodily fluids all over the pavement. We get a carnage montage. It ends with someone flicking a sheet over a dead nurse. Fade to white. Hey, haven't I seen that somewhere before?

Black lettering appears over the white screen: "Earlier That Day -- 8:45 AM." Fade up on Pangborn in a patient's room. She's accompanied by a Buddhist monk. She exposits that she doesn't think the hospital has ever had a Rinpoche before, referring to the tiny old man in the bed. The monk takes up a large beaker and begins stirring the clear yellow liquid inside. He explains that "His Holiness" is diabetic, so he has to make sure the man's glucose level is stable before the surgery. Pangborn's eyes glaze as she asks, "Is that --?" "Urine," the monk answers matter-of-factly.

Cut to a hallway where a member of Kellerman's team is briefing a couple newbies on how he likes his OR set up. The IMDB helpfully tells me that this surgeon is named "Que Paso." Que Paso warns, "Guy like Kellerman, ritual is everything." He moves to the Easy-Bake sterilizer and opens it, as if to illustrate his point. Aghast, he asks where Kellerman's hat is. The newbies stare back blankly. Luckily, the crisis is averted as Que Paso spots the hat on a shelf. Holding it reverently, he tells them that Kellerman never operates without it. Ever. So something bad is going to happen to the hat. Que Paso tells them to pop it into the Easy-Bake. I think we can all see where this is going. Before they can stow the hat in the sterilizer, Kellerman comes flying through a door, pumped for surgery. He's in far too good a mood for something bad not to happen to his hat. Since his headwear isn't prepped and ready, Que Paso tries to stall him, distracting him with a CD of "mystical house" music he burned "special for the Dalai Lama." Wendy Whiner grabs the CD, muttering that the patient isn't the Dalai Lama, he's a Rinpoche -- "one notch down on the karmic ladder." She's met with questioning stares. "What?" she snaps. "I dated a Buddhist." Only a Buddhist would have the patience. Kellerman is paged to the Rinpoche's room. He sighs and rolls his eyes. I feel you, Doc.