Long, blue-lit hallway. It's a jetway. A title card reads, "SIX MONTHS LATER," and we see Kerr, Brown Ali (who's now blonde again), and non-chicken-fried Alex deboarding a plane. They can't believe they made it. They can't believe they got on a plane. I can't believe they didn't make Alex check his lips.
Paris. At a café, they wrap up the loose ends in the most disorganized and boring fashion possible, blathering on about the design and "it's weird being here" and puzzles, and they toast to Paris and Rothbale and all their "friends that can't be here." Kerr admits that "it was a design," and crows that they beat it. Alex and Non-Brown Brown Ali hold hands. Alex gets out the seating plan and goes on about the order of their deaths; the other two want him to let it go. Alex's large, blubbery, red, butt-ugly lips keep moving. Non-Brown Brown Ali calls bullshit on him again, asking how he knows that they got the right design. Kerr says it could come back and get them all again. A busker sings the John Denver song. Meathooks. A rolling metal pipe. Alex spills wine on the seating chart. He jumps up and wants to go back to the hotel and tells Non-Brown Brown Ali to stay there; she wants to come with, but he says no and heads out. Non-Brown Brown Ali sees a bus reflected in the window and screams, "Alllllaaaayyyxxx!" Alex dodges the bus. It knocks over a fruit cart. Roger Ebert nods approvingly. The bus knocks over a street sign, which whacks into a lighted sign for the café. Quick shot of Alex's massive lips parted in terror ("Alllllaaaayyyxxx!"), then back to the sign disintegrating and swinging towards Alex, and as it arcs past their table, Kerr tackles Alex and saves him. Kerr jumps up and yells, "I told you you were next!" "Then it just skipped me," gasps Alex. "So who's next?" Kerr says. Dolt. Oh, hello, sign. Kuh-LANG! Au revoir, Kerr. Credits.