Back in the garage, The Fun-Lovin' Criminals are attempting to blowtorch their way into an airshaft. Our Famous Guest Of The Week, Quentin Tarantino, makes his first appearance. He's chilling out in the van, wearing a truly hideous pair of sunglasses and watching the progress of the illegal entry. You know he's a bad dude because, like, he's WEARING SUNGLASSES INDOORS. Tell me why Hollywood continues to illustrate "badness" with "sunglasses indoors"? I mean, I can't see past the ends of my fingers when I'm wearing my sunglasses as I simply walk up the stairs to my apartment, so I seriously can't imagine wearing them in a dark garage while sitting in a van. But that's probably why I'm not a Fun-Lovin' Criminal. While Q sits there, trying to look all cool, the other FLCs load up their various weapons of destruction.
Soon-To-Be-Dead Security Guard #1 enters the garage and sees the van parked up against the airshaft and some blue sparks spilling out from behind it. He speaks into his wrist and asks the other guard if he knows anything about any AC repairs. That's a negative, Dead Man Walking. STBDSG #1 readies his gun and approaches the van. He doesn't get too far, however; one of the FLCs comes up behind him and cracks him across the skull with the wire cutters. Buh-bye, STBDSG #1.
Back at Unrequited Spy Love Central, Syd informs Agent Apathy that she doesn't want the double-agent job anymore. Vaughn tells her that this isn't the Starbucks on the corner of Damen and Wilson; she can't just up and quit because she doesn't enjoy slinging cranberry scones at irritating yuppies. Actually, he just tells her that "this" (which I'm assuming means "KGB-sanctioned murder") is why she's doing the job in the first place. "You're helping bring an end to SD-6," he says, giving us a forehead-wrinkle count of three with the added novelty of a between-the-eyebrows furrow. "Not anymore," states Sydney firmly. "I need someone in my life to be real." "This, right here, what we do -- is real," says Vaughn. Sydney calmly smiles. "Look where we are," she says. "This isn't real. This isn't what we should be doing." No, you should be buck-nekkid between Egyptian cotton sheets, doing the horizontal mambo…but that's probably not what you meant, is it? Bad Regina! Bad girl! No biscuit!
Sydney states again that she wants out. Vaughn seems to realize that she's serious about this, and wants to know if she wants to enter the witness protection program. Sydney says she doesn't, primarily because she's a retard with a death wish, but also because she doesn't want to go into hiding. "If you don't, Sloane will kill you," says Captain Non-Courageous. "I don't think he will," says Sydney. "Because he's my daddy and he lurves me!" Yeah, I know, she doesn't say that. Shut up. A girl can dream, can't she? Anyway, Syd gets up and, jumping over a huge gap in continuity, asks Vaughn if he likes hockey. He's all, yeah, how'd you know? She's all, dude, that Kings commemorative puck you wear around your neck makes it pretty damn obvious. Sydney asks him if he wants to attend the Kings vs. Islanders showdown next week. Vaughn's all, WOO! I'm gonna get me some post-hockey double-agent ASS. Or, you know, he tells her that she can't stop being an SD-6 mole. Sydney doesn't respond. Shocker.