The Dance We Do

Episode Report Card
Wing Chun: C+ | Grade It Now!
Mother? Fuck 'er!

Should there be two pages of recapping to do before the opening credits? No. Damn this show!

On the El, Elizabeth "White Picket Defense" Corday reviews material related to her lawsuit. Mark "It's not a TOOOO-muh! Oh, wait. It is" Greene advises her that if she answers the questions honestly, she'll be fine. Oh, and then they exposit the only information that's really at issue in the malpractice suit. She says, "I was the only one remotely close to the dura...I had to have punctured it." Mark says, "It's a known risk. It does not constitute negligence." Elizabeth anxiously replies, "Mark, missing a leak does. I don't even remember looking before I removed the endoscope." This will be important later. In fact, it's the only thing that will be important later. It's the only thing they'll be talking about later. Mark assures her, "You've done a hundred of these [she has?], you know the procedure. There was a bad outcome, they're looking for someone to blame. It doesn't mean you did anything wrong." As the light strikes Mark's pate, a big square Band-Aid is visible about an inch and a half above his left eyebrow. The El lurches to a halt, and Mark offers to ride with Elizabeth to her appointment; she says she'll be fine and tells him to go to work. They peck chastely and she adds, "Hey, don't go jogging into any more street signs." He makes an unfunny remark, and as he makes for the door, she bleats, "How long do these depositions usually last?" "Call me if it goes past midnight," he replies. "What?!" she squeaks, and from outside, he catches her eye through the window and tells her he was joking. Ha. Ha. Not. Her medical career may well be over in a matter of days. Yuk it up, Chuck Tumour.

At the hospital, Sally -- who's curled her hair into a flip which is quite becoming -- is perched on the edge of a bed with her right sleeve rolled up, yammering, "I hate to go on an interview with a big Band-Aid on my arm. What will they think?" Um. They might wonder why you're showing off the bare inside of your elbow when you're wearing a blouse with sleeves straight to your wrists. I really think Maggie would be able to come up with a more plausible pretext not to go through with the test, under the circumstances. Either that, or they could have dressed her in a short-sleeved blouse. Though maybe that's the point -- that her excuses are weak and groundless and yet she has to make them. Anyway. Lisa chirps that Sally has a suit jacket, and Sally passive-aggresses that she doesn't have to take it off if the room gets warm. Lisa blithely tells Sally to tell them she gave blood. Sally tries another tack: she doesn't want to be late, and, in fact, wants to be early. She suggests that she return to the hospital after the interview, "and then, if you still want to do this...." Lisa tells her to hold still. Sally babbles, "I just don't understand, Abby. I mean, you've let me in your home, we're getting along so well. This is an absolute gift! I mean, what will taking my blood accomplish?" "Hopefully nothing," says Lisa, getting exasperated. Throughout this speech, Lisa has been prepping Sally's arm for the needle, and Sally finally claps her left hand over the crook of her right arm and wheedles, "When this test comes back negative or positive, or whatever it's supposed to be, then you're going to feel foolish, and I'm going to be hurt. And then you're going to feel back." Lisa looks down, her face drawn and weary, and she quietly says, "You can't touch the vein after I've cleaned it." Sally blurts, "That can't be what you want!" Lisa says it's not, and Sally throws up her hands and begs, "Then, honey, let's just not do this." At this moment, "Dr." Dave Malucci ducks into the exam room and flattens himself against the adjacent wall, peering through the glass in the door. He registers the scene and asks whether they need any help. Pointedly, Lisa tells him that they're fine, and Sally simpers, "Hi, Dave!" He greets her as Ms. Lockhart, and she corrects him: "It's Wyczenski." He asks if she's not feeling well, and she asks, "Why, do I look sick?" He tells her that she looks great; Lisa fixes him with a "stow it" look. Sally thanks Dr. Dave and tells him he looks good, too; Lisa shoots her a "girl, please" look. Dr. Dave nosily asks, "What's the draw for?" and Sally proudly replies, "I'm giving blood." Dr. Dave nods noncommitally and continues monitoring something or other out in the hall. Lisa smirks. Sally hisses, "What? That's what you told me to say!" Lisa gives up, removes the tourniquet, and tells Sally to go. Sally kisses her rapidly a few times and flits off, telling her she'll call and let Lisa know how the interview goes. Dr. Dave remarks that it must be nice for Lisa to have such "good genes, knowing that you're gonna grow up looking like that." And that is an appropriate observation in what professional universe? He indicates that Lisa has some of Sally's lipstick on her mouth, and Lisa bitterly swipes at it with her hand.

By the desk, Randi asks a sulky blonde, "Is this about a patient?" "No," whines Sulky, adding, "He's supposed to be working!" Lisa walks behind the desk and Randi asks her whether she's seen Dr. Dave. Sulky tells Randi to give Dr. Dave the message that Stephanie stopped by. "Your last name?" prompts Randi, and Sulky pouts, "He knows my last name." Cleo "LoveLetter Virus" Finch, standing beside Randi, snickers, "I don't get it. He had some other girl in here looking for him yesterday." Chuny snorts, "You fire enough shots, eventually you're going to hit something." "Or catch something," prigs Finch. "Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," Randi drawls. Sally returns to the ambulance-bay doors bleating, "Abby! Abby! A girl out here needs help! She's bleeding! Some kids, they just threw her from a car!"

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