And how. In the next scene, we don't get the Bill Paxton moon view; we get the hairy chest shot. Nicki's on top, along with a lady Godiva-esque hairdo that implies someone was careful about what she signed, contract-wise, before doing this show. After the two of them finish their sinful little business, Bill happily sighs, "I like it when you're in control." Going by Nicki's reaction, that may have rung her bell. She climbs off, and they're hanging out in bed. Nicki's all, "I love you, Bill." He replies, "I love you too," which is all very sweet, but let's remember he had a social orgasm less than two minutes ago. There's always that five-minute period afterward where you love everything -- whomever you were with, the thread count on the sheets, puppies, religious dictatorships, kittens, SUVs, chocolate, Bud Selig, rainbows, etc. Nobody should be held accountable for any emotional declarations when they're still addled by sex. In any event, Nicki's relieved to hear that Bill loves her, and follows up with "How much?" Bill is still in the no-fault five minute period: "It's astronomical. Beyond all measure." He settles down for a contented doze, so that's when Nicki chooses to tell him, "I'm $58,000 in debt" in her most affectionate voice. Well, that yanks Bill right out of his post-coital haze. Nicki adds, fatuously, "I was waiting for the right time to tell you." Bill wants to know details, and Nicki gradually reveals that she racked up balances on nine cards. Bill wants to know how she got a credit card, and rather than admit that her dad co-signed, Nicki lies, "I don't remember." Bill is shocked and furious. He leaps out of bed, practically incoherent with outrage, grabs a very nice blanket off the bed -- you'd think he would have noticed that out of all three of his wives, Nicki has the nicest house, and asked how that happened -- and storms off.