In the woman's office, which is dimly lit like some sort of fantasy therapist brothel, Carlos spouts off stuff about how hard it is to lose a patient. The vampy music continues to play as Carlos makes an ass out of himself. "I believe the children are our future," he says at one point, "teach them well and they will lead the way." Then he talks about how hard it is to save lives and be sensitive while Counselor Goth looks bored. I giggle when Carlos says "sensitively," but pronounces it wrong. Time passes, as the wall clock reveals. "Am I a hero? Sure I am," he says. The music finally stops as the Counselor ends the session. She says that Carlos is sensitive and committed and perfectly suited to his work. Then she leaves, looking for Doc. Carlos follows the Counselor to the hospital kitchen (why is she letting him?) after she walks right past Doc. Carlos says that he'd like to see her again. She says he's got no problems, and then reveals TV Writer/Pubescent Boy Fantasy #323: She's actually not into sensitive guys because she deals with them all day at work, and she just wants a brute to throw her around the bed at night. She hates sensitive fellows. Yeah. Fucking. Right. Carlos backpedals and reveals that he's actually a lout and a jerk and she should totally get with him. He says he lied the whole time. "That is so low," she purrs, walking over to him. So implausible. So bad. So lazy. But enough about the teleplay. Counselor Goth (now Counselor Horny) asks Carlos whether it's wrong to like someone because they don't give a damn about anything. "I don't know," Carlos says, "and I don't care."
Suddenly, Carlos and Counselor Goth are lying on their backs, side by side, in bed. "How was that?" Counselor Spent asks. "That was great," says Carlos. "How was I?" she asks. "You were great. How was I?" Carlos asks. "Terrific," she says. "That's great," Carlos says. Right. Got it. You know, I think I liked it better when I had to watch somebody die for a whole hour. "If you don't want to call me after this, you don't have to," she says. Wait, is that TV Writer/Pubescent Boy Fantasy #433 or #458? I always get those two confused "God, she's perfect," Carlos says in a voice-over. We go to commercial, about three minutes too late to save my sanity.
Speaking of stupid and offensive, Mentos has a new commercial, set in India. I'd advise you avert your eyes.
At the station house, Lombardo is being bored by Carlos's recounting of his sexual exploits with Counselor Insatiable. He says it might have been four times he got his freak on in the sack, but probably more. Lombardo looks as if he'd rather have Jimmy go at it with his girlfriend again than listen to this crap. "Why don't you just whip out some pictures?" Lombardo asks. "Here!" Carlos responds. Lordy. In his interior monologue, Carlos takes pity on poor Lombardo for envying him. Never mind that Lombardo has a girlfriend who would make the plastic in Carlos's underpants melt. As he walks by looking all smug, Carlos is stopped by Doc, who advises him to give the sexcapade stories a rest. Hey, Doc has a pretty hot girlfriend, too. I guess Carlos is just happy he finally joined the club. Doc tells him that it's been five or six days, and they've all gotten a "blow-by-blow (pardon the expression)" of the events that transpired with Counselor Altoids. "Don't be a player hater," Carlos says simply, and I laugh out loud because, damn, that was actually funny. Jimmy comes down the stairs carrying a box full of Bobby's personal effects. He says he's going to deliver them to Bobby's mom and asks whether anyone wants to come. Everybody volunteers except Carlos, who asks what time because he has a test. Just then, the grizzled, rough, yet fair captain comes in with Carlos and Doc's evaluations. "It's like a love note from my girl," Carlos gushes. Then he reads it.