Back in his western wear, Lindsey throws his knapsack and his guitar into the back of his old pickup. Out of that whole apartment, he only found one bag of stuff worth keeping? Lindsey says, "If you're here to kill me, grab ya a ticket and get in line." "Grab ya a ticket"? He's talking to Angel, of course, who is lurking at the back of the truck. Angel starts saying how much he likes the truck, and that in the 1950s everyone thought they'd have "air cars and robots" by now. Lindsey smiles, "So you're here to talk me to death?" Undeterred, Angel pontificates that things don't always go as planned, noting that Wolfram & Hart are probably unhappy to lose Lindsey. Lindsey makes it clear that he remains epiphany-free, thank goodness. Angel says, "I'm just here to say bon voyage. Don't come back." Lindsey opens the door of his truck and says that Angel can have Los Angeles. Angel chirps, "I'm glad I didn't have to do something immature here," just as a large, heavy object lands on my roof. Glad I got that anti-anvil reinforcement. After staring at him for a minute, Lindsey says, "The key to Wolfram & Hart: don't let them make you play their game. You gotta make 'em play yours." Although, if your game is tiddly-winks, that's gonna take some doing. Angel thanks Lindsey for the advice, and says, "Don't drive too fast. Lotta cops out there." I hear another thud against the roof. Lindsey gets into the cab and pulls away, so that we can see the hand-lettered "Cops Suck" sign that Angel taped to the back. Lame as that it is, it seems somehow appropriate for Angel's limited wit. And so Lindsey drives off into the night, to join the other captives in the bin of secondary characters who may never be seen again. I think he should become roommates with Bethany. She's an abuse victim who doesn't like to be touched; he's a guy with a crazy out-of-control hand! I smell a sitcom!
Next time, more wackiness, as Cordy models a bikini. I hope that's just the subplot.