Hurley pulls up at this massive house, gets out, and hustles around to the passenger side to help his blindfolded mother out of the car. She's bitching the whole time, by the way, complaining about having to wear the blindfold. He tells her to take it off and get a load of her new house, but she apparently can't hear him over the sound of her own pissing and moaning, so she slips on a step and, if that ridiculously loud snapping sound is any indication, breaks her ankle. And we already know she's not one to suffer in silence, so here we go with the wailing. She stops long enough to sniff the air and ask if Hugo smells smoke. He looks up, and sees the reflection of flames in an upstairs window. He whips out his cell phone to call 911 (with his mom helpfully yelling for him to tell them about her ankle as well). But Hurley's barely dialed when he hears sirens and a couple of police cars pull up. Hurley looks at his phone like, "That was fast," apparently before realizing that a) he wanted firefighters; b) he had yet to tell 911 that he needs firefighters; and c) holy shit, these cops are pulling guns on him and telling him to freeze and all that. As they slam Hurley to the hood of his Hummer, handcuff him, and read him his rights, Mama hilariously looks at him suspiciously and crosses herself again. "No such thing as curses, huh, Ma?" he says. Commercials.
Hurley finds the cable on the beach. He yells out, "Yo! French chick?" This, not surprisingly, fails to elicit a response. So he picks up the cable and starts following it, hopefully to the old French chick who lives down the road.
Flashback Hurley is going over his portfolio with his accountant or broker or whoever it is that people use when they have way more money than I do. It looks like the bad luck of others around Hurley is continuing, and in ways that benefit him. Like his money invested in orange futures skyrocketed when tropical storms hit Florida. And his sneaker factory in Canada ("I have a sneaker factory in Canada?" says Hurley, surprised) burned down, but it was over-insured so he gets a nice cash windfall. Not to mention the settlement he reached with the LAPD for the false arrest. "You've almost doubled your net worth in a few short months." His accountant still can't figure out how the LAPD mistook him for a drug dealer. Perhaps they saw the same Curb Your Enthusiasm episode everyone else did. Man, Lost gives shout-outs to the best shows! (Also worth noting: Hurley is now the majority shareholder in a box company. Locke works -- worked -- in a box company. Coincidence?) Hurley's still on the whole "bad luck" thing. "Hugo, you are not the first lottery winner to believe the money's brought him nothing but trouble. It's all in your head." Hurley asks if his accountant believes in jinxes and curses. The accountant says, "I'm an accountant. I believe in numbers," then completely undermines that by excitedly asking where Hurley got the winning numbers. I don't get this. They're random numbers (I mean, not on this show, as it turns out, but lotteries in general), but people keep asking Hurley this, like maybe he's got a secret stash of winning numbers somewhere. Hurley starts to say, "It's just something I..." and then he trails off. Then he's all, eureka! It's not the money that's cursed, it's the numbers! The accountant is the middle of scoffing at Hurley's notions of curses when, with a YAAAAAAARGHHH!, some poor schmo falls the window, on his speedy way to the concrete below. Sorry. I know the guy dies, but that's funny. And the jaunty music agrees with me too. Let's all have a sense of a humour and not get all Sean Penn over here.