Rooftop of the hospital. Two guys in white clothes are rushing a patient in a stretcher onto a waiting helicopter. The copter takes off. Nobody gets an arm chopped off, and the helicopter doesn't fall on anyone. In other words, boring.
Kent home at night. MamaKent brings out some blankets and a pillow for their houseguest, Brotherman. That couch looks like a rough sleep, right there. Clark asks Brotherman if he wants to be alone. No. He really doesn't. Uh oh. The Gay touches all who wander within these farm fences. Brotherman says it's ironic that his brother worked with explosives and died of liver disease. Wait, that's not irony, is it? Brotherman is mourning his brother. It's sad. He's broken up about it. Can't believe he's gone. Thinks it's a big misunderstanding. Hey, kid, have you seen this show? You might be in luck! The phone rings. Clark says he can make some phone calls to other family member. Nope. No family. Brotherman remembers that his deceased bro used to call him "runt." Wow. Nice brother. "Now I'd give anything to hear him say it again," Brotherman adds. MamaKent comes in and says she just got a call from the crematorium. She said they want to know where to send the ashes. Brotherman is confused; his brother is supposed to be buried next to their mom and dad. Awkward!
Naughty burial rites: two lab-coated dudes are pulling a stretcher through what looks like a broken-down haunted house with bad plumbing. And they're in a hurry, too. Everything is shot fast and grainy, like one of those commercials telling you the dangers of choosing the wrong antacid. I hear monkeys screeching, and that can only be good news. We zoom in on the very comely (yet dangerous) Dr. Poonie Tang. "Let's move," she says. Yeah, it's starting to smell in here with all the monkey shit. How about a nice 3/2 over on Granville Island? Poonie Tang unzips the body bag. Yep. He's dead, all right. "Syringe," she calls. She's got on blue gloves and a bulky-looking wristwatch. She plunges the syringe right into the middle of Deadbro's chest. Deadbro wakes up. Man, I'll bet he's got a lot of email waiting for him. He sits up, coughing. He has the breath of the dead. Poonie welcomes him back. Back to life, back to reality.
The hospital, the den of my nightmares. Brotherman is mad because his brother got smoked. Or at least, he was scheduled to be. They're asking some poor hospital worker why Deadbro was sent to be cremated. She says they didn't send him; Metropolis General did, for "organ donation." She shows some paperwork. Brotherman can't believe it. His brother was a selfish dick, apparently. "No," he says, shaking his head. The hospital worker suggests that maybe Brotherman didn't know his brother as well as he thought. "What are you talking about?" he yells. "How am I supposed to be calm when my brother's been carved up and burnt to a crisp?" Yeah. That does suck, dude. I'm with you on that one. The woman tries to explain, but Brotherman yells at her again and leaves the exceptionally dark room. Clark apologizes to the woman. Clark approaches Brotherman, who thinks the documents must have been forged. Clark thinks, "You mean like in a fire with a sword?"