As he walks through the parking lot, he VOs, "To protect someone without blowing your cover, you have to come up with a story. One that explains what they're doing, explains what you're doing, and gets everyone out in one piece." Even Jackass. As he meets Jackass coming the other way, he holds up a set of keys, loudly telling a confused Jackass that he forgot them on his wife's dresser. And he sells it by popping him in the stomach. Man, it sucks to be Jackass. "Of course, not everyone is a born storyteller," Michael VOs. True, but not everyone can make a good smoothie, either. "Go with it, run," Michael says quietly to Jackass. Jackass protests that he has his orders from Seymour, so Michael punches him in the face (to the amusement of the Russian mobsters hanging around) and pushes him on his way. "And don't let me catch you near my wife again!" he sobs.

At the loft, Michael is going over blueprints while Sam voices his appreciation of corporate espionage. "No guns, no explosions... it's like going on the kiddie rides at the carnival." He asks if Michael's figured out how Chandler's spy got in, and he speculates that they followed the cleaning crew in, circumnavigating the cameras and piggybacking through the security doors. Suddenly, from over on the bed, Fi gives a theatrical yawn and wonders why she was called over. "It always helps to bounce ideas, Fi," Michael says mildly. She sits up and stares at him like that's not all she wants to bounce, prompting Sam to sense something's up and say, "I'm gonna grab another beer. And drink it on the balcony." It's good to be Sam. Once he's gone, Fi asks if this has something to do with her not staying for breakfast after the other night. Michael tries to deny it, but can't pull it off. Because it's not like he's a highly trained covert operative or anything.