Don has succeeded in wrangling Reese into Bill's office. Bill says they agreed on a thirty-day timeline for the deal. "Things have changed," Reese says, acting like he's expecting armed gunmen to burst into the room at any moment. His reaction to his ringing cell phone -- a shifty shut-off -- isn't made any more trustworthy by the fact that his ringtone is a banjo tune. Reese says that the deal has to be this week if it's going to happen. Bill and Don balk at that, as well they should. Reese's cell phone rings again, and apparently the person with the pimp-bass ringtone gets their calls answered, although furtively. We hear Reese's end of the conversation. "Meet me at 2:00. Not at home. I don't care about the goddamn lamps, we'll buy new ones!" He hangs up. Now, I know absolutely nothing about business, but if I were looking at a deal with this guy, right here is where I would activate the trap door in my office. What, don't all businessmen have trap doors? See, I told I you knew nothing. But amazingly, Bill knows even less about business than I do, because even though he knows his bank won't back the deal without a review of the company first -- which is going to take a lot more than a week -- he's willing to 5% earnest money in an escrow account, out of his own cash. "This isn't a business for dabblers," Reese warns him. So Bill sweetens the deal and offers 7% earnest money in 72 hours. I've never seen anyone so eager to take a bath when there wasn't a woman waiting in the tub. Even Reese thinks Bill's out of his mind to make such an offer, but he agrees. "You pull this off by Thursday, I'll throw in a boat," he says, leaving. No sooner is Reese gone than Don is stressing at Bill on where they're going to raise that amount of cash that quickly. He should be more worried about whether they really want to. Bill just tells Don they'll figure something out.