The piano, where Mr. Brooks is tickling the ivories. He and Grams share a bit of mock-hostile banter, and Mr. Brooks remembers Grams putting him in his place: "I admire that in a woman." Grams gives him guff for "getting on in years." Mr. Brooks admits to harshing on Dawson, "but that was before I got to know him." Just you wait, Brooksy -- juuuuuuuust you wait. Grams advises him to get to know people in the future before dismissing them. Mr. Brooks suggests that she do the same. They exchange A Meaningful Look. Grams, shaking her head and smiling, walks away. Enter Dawson, who accuses Mr. Brooks of "flirting with Grams." "Nonsense," Mr. Brooks scoffs good-naturedly. "That looked like flirting to me," Dawson smirks. Mr. Brooks tells him, "You'd know if I was flirting. Matter of fact, you could pull up a seat and take a lesson or two." Dawson grins, then makes a crack about Mr. Brooks having the "massive ego" of a movie director. Yeah, look who's talking, George Luc-Ass. Mr. Brooks remarks that, just because they "had a moment" earlier, doesn't mean they have to get "all chummy." "Point taken," Dawson says -- as if -- and clears his throat and says with great portent that he wants Mr. Brooks to know something: "I think I'm ready to make a movie again." Oh, thank God. If by "thank God" we mean "fucking kill me now." Dawson, why don't you climb up on that cherry-picker they use for dolly-cam aerial shots and get over yourself? And shut up. Shut up a lot. Mr. Brooks snarks that the crisis of faith seems to have ended, so he'll "alert the media." "Go ahead, laugh all you want," Dawson says smugly, and Mr. Brooks tells him that he intends to and asks what Dawson's "picture" is about. "You," Dawson says, radiating self-satisfaction. Mr. Brooks rises from the piano bench and asks Dawson to repeat that into his "good ear." Dawson smiles that it's Mr. Brooks's life story, and they'll "talk later." Yuck. Dawson walks off. Mr. Brooks sighs, resigned to the fact that into every life some Dawson must fall.