After commercials (finally!), we find Kellerman peering into the face of a large, sweaty, and partially naked man with tubes and other medical gizmos plastered all over him. Kellerman pretends to complain that this sweaty man, named Mr. Lopez, screwed up his day off. They banter. Kellerman presses his stethoscope to the man's slick chest, and we're treated to the pulsating rhythm of Lopez's heart. Doctorly questions are followed by Kellerman's proclamation that he hears a murmur. Looks like one of Lopez's artificial valves is malfunctioning and they'll "have to go in." More putting-on-a-brave-face banter, until we learn that Lopez doesn't want Kellerman to call anyone "this time." My brain tries to tell my tiny black heart that I should feel sad for Mr. Lopez. My heart responds with a resounding, "Meh..."

Cut to Kellerman striding through a hallway with a cell phone, telling someone named "Calamari" to rise and shine and rustle up the rest of the crew. "Looks like we're working today," Kellerman adds with enthusiasm. I think that maybe he's a workaholic, which probably isn't a bad thing for a surgeon to be.

Cut to a little steel-encased chamber with a spin lock. It's kind of like a tiny version of the prop they used for the Safecrackers game on The Price is Right, but I think this thing has something to do with sterilization. I'm pretty sure there's a Bob Barker joke in there somewhere. Someone opens the door and reverently pulls out a baseball cap with the word "killer" embroidered on the back. It belongs to "Killer" Kellerman, and -- oh! the irony. Some woman who's scrubbing up whines about having her day off wrecked. Some other doctor flies in, complaining angrily in Spanish. Turns out the stereo he just bought is now on sale somewhere else for $300 less. "That's tragic," Kellerman snides. I'm sure Mr. Lopez would agree. They troop into the operating room, freshly scrubbed hands held high. The female doctor complains some more that she was supposed to spend the day with her family. Kellerman points out that she is. Awww. The door bursts open, and one pissed-off female doctor (Doctor Joyner, although I don't think we ever actually hear her name) comes through it, raging at Kellerman that Lopez is hers, since she's the admitting physician. They have a little pissing match right there in the OR that basically goes over the whole "technology versus live, thinking doctors" spiel Dalgety gave earlier. Joyner cuts things short by growling that it's over.