I'm not sure if you've picked up on it over the last few weeks, but it's becoming apparent that Dr. Laura just might officially have her own catchphrase. How nice for her. Although "We're gonna die " doesn't really scream "bumper sticker" quite like "How you doin'?" or "Dyn-o-mite!": something for the marketing geniuses over at the Peacock to think about. So our poor shipwrecked friends are adrift on the open sea, storm raging, raft sinking, flare gun deceptively useless hmm, isn't this where the Others show up and demand to take the boy? My favorite part of this entire sequence isn't when they scream at the shark to scare it away (which clearly sounds like advice they might have garnered from Hayley Mills during the long-lost stranded-at-sea portion of The Parent Trap); it isn't when they start smooshing the monster eggs to use the glow-y green goo as a signal light for the rescue chopper (because that's gonna make the momma monster happy); it isn't even when Rich oh-so-coyly suggests they spoon to combat hypothermia (smooth, dude); nope, it's when Rich finally loses it and tells Laura to stop her whining for just a damn minute. Thank you, Crazy-Eyed Rich. When you're all done here, maybe you can take a little trip up north to Seattle Grace and deliver the same message to Meredith Grey? Seriously.
So back me up, here. Nim's not really dead, right? They wouldn't kill him kill him, would they? Yes, we heard a shot. Yes, we saw the implication of a limp little Nim body. Yes, we saw poor delirious Miles crumple all brokenhearted in the hallway just like Elliott mourning E.T., but hey, it worked out okay for those crazy kids, right? Stop looking at me like that.