Jaime visits Professor Dorkus's apartment...so, he apparently had no other family besides the imprisoned Pop? No one else cares? A GUY THAT INTERESTING? Non! I notice that P.Dorkus has a door knocker that says "Anthros" (his last name), which...first of all, I don't think I've ever seen an engraved door knocker, and second of all, if you worked for a shady spy agency and occasionally had to do things so deep underground that they actually had to be done deep underground, do you think you'd put your real name on the outside of your front door? Twenty-three-year-old girls alone in the big city know better than that. At any rate, Jaime goes inside. She finds a picture of herself with Professor Dorkus, which is, like, the shallowest thing you could possibly choose as a thing for her to cry over. Try the receipt she finds from the movie they went to, or the last thing he slung over a chair...it ain't the pictures that make you miss people the most. It's the things that remind you how recently they were with you, and old pictures are usually not like that. Just my opinion. Jaime goes to his closet, where she does finally smell some article of clothing, but any moment to which they were building is ruined when she steps on -- that's right -- a squeaky floorboard. I repeat: a squeaky floorboard. Just another secret international operative brought down for want of a hammer. Jaime pulls up the board and pulls out a file, which is actually a dossier...on her. From the "Berkus Group," so I guess that's what we're calling the shadowy agency. The file includes her I.Q. test, some pictures of her, and so forth. Jaime looks grumpy!
Cut to a bar (but not Jaime's bar), where Jaime is sitting and enjoying some tequila shots while ignoring a news story about the mysterious government closure of a small Idaho town called Paradise. (GET IT?) She's slurring some typical drunk-girl talk at the bartender about how you never really know anyone. She gets his attention only when her "men suck" routine turns into, you know, how guys always turn out to have "a weird dossier on you." Heh. Jaime announces to the bartender that she's done looking for "Mr. Right," and from now on, it's just "Mr. Right Now." Just a little hint for the writers, for the future: if your joke sounded creaky when Robin Williams made it many years ago, it might be a trifle dated.