"There ya go," she says lightly, sort of on fire from God right now, and appalled Mo-Mo yanks her, almost screaming, past a stressing Zoey and out of the hospital altogether. "He's a fucking pedophile, Mo-Mo!" Jackie shouts, and he's like, "Yes, but you cannot do that shit." He explains that the man is a patient in the hospital, and abusing their genitals might get her in trouble. She admits that she's frustrated, having just fought with "A man. Guy. Friend. Guy friend." He grabs her arm with a gay gasp: "Boyfriend?" She rolls the word around in her mouth: "Yes. I had a fight with my... boyfriend."
Mo-Mo's thrilled, but also feeling left out that he didn't even know -- and girl, you don't know the half of it, so pace yourself -- and Jackie says lovingly, "Honey, you do all the talking." His jaw drops, but he realizes she's right; above them, God rains down shrieks and epithets. Mo-Mo wants deets, but Jackie's like, "It's nobody from work, just leave it alone?" Not a chance.
Mo-Mo changes the subject of the interrogation to the subject of their fight, and she shrugs. "I didn't realize it was our anniversary, and that makes me a terrible person," she says snottily, playing a little game inside her head, because that's not what makes her a terrible person, but being frustrated about the small thing eclipsing the big thing is a great way to feel no accountability whatsoever. "...Wait, anniversary?" Jackie admits it's been a year, and Mo-Mo breathes because he had no idea, and her voice is sad as she looks him in the eye: "Neither did I." It's been a year, a year of pills, a year is how long she's been hearing that voice, the one that calls her a whore; God screams.
"Now! Now! Now! To me, you slaves and sluts! Go ahead, eat! Eat! Eat God's shit!"
It's lunchtime. Coop's in the Harmacy, chowing down on a pastry and goggling eyes at Eddie's pill collection. "Did you get a visit from a morphine rep or something?" Not exactly. Coop starts yelling excitedly about how they should go to Atlantic City for the weekend, he's got a free room yadda yadda, boy stuff, and Eddie begs off. "It doesn't have to be Thursday," Coop fakes bravely. "I was just throwing it out there..."