Outside, Sam meets up with Michael and Nate, telling them that after a few hours of battering Ivan's skull with that shit, they'll stick him back in the cell so he'll be nice and happy to see his old friend Michael. But for now, Sam's off to another meeting with Harvey. "The Best of Bulgarian Disco?" Nate reads incredulously from one of Sam's CD cases. Sam's says he's saving that for bedtime. Michael's like, can I sleep in the spare cargo container, then?
As Sam sits at another expensively laid lunch table with Harvey, Michael VOs that while some sources will give up all they know in exchange for some "kind words and free drinks," others aren't so obliging. And when that happens, "A good operative has to apply pressure. And that means knowing just what a source loves." After bringing up the list of names he wants and getting put off again, Sam asks Harvey, "Do you like being secretary/treasurer of the Agricultural Association of South Florida?" "Nah, I'm trying to get back to teaching high school," Harvey deadpans. Then he cackles about how much he loves the gig, and wonders why Sam asks. Sam angrily accuses Harvey of jerking him around, and as he says that he's actually trying to find out about opium poppies, he digs out a fake badge and says, "I'm with the DEA!" He sort of waves the badge around so Harvey can't get a good look at it, but Harvey's too busy choking to look closely anyway. Sam dispenses a series of threats and even gets up to leave, but Harvey, in a panic, promises to have the list tomorrow. Sam's mood improves at once. "Liquid gold," he agrees, sipping his wine. Harvey's appetite is spoiled. Try some Big Red, Harvey. Cinamonny.