From the window of his office, Al sees the little party board the wagon. "That widow ain't high," he tells E.B., who has apparently been called over for a meeting. "Maybe waiting 'til after the service," E.B. suggests, but this earns an immediate rebuff from Al, who says surely the widow would want to get loaded before the service "against all the fucking carryin' on." E.B. very casually, to Al's consternation, says that makes sense. Al's pissed. He thinks E.B. and Trixie are in league to lie to him about the widow taking the dope. "I checked in on the woman daily," E.B. says, a little tersely for his own good. "If I was fooled, perhaps I've chosen simple-mindedness, Al, over realizing a certain friend has used me as an instrument of purposes he concealed." I guess E.B. hasn't been watching this show because, damn, haven't we all already learned that Al doesn't take kindly to passive-aggressive, wheedling, mealy-mouth bullshit? "Say what you're gonna say," he says, "or prepare for eternal fucking silence." E.B. continues. "I don't believe you commissioned me to make an offer on the widows claim to keep the regulators off you, Al," he huffs. "I think someone found something out there you want." Al is taken aback only for a split second. "Assume you ain't been privy to the ins and outs of that matter for the sake of fucking conversation," he says. "I mean, was I asleep, E.B., when you and me declared undying loyalty and full-faith mutual disclosure about every fucking detail of every fucking move we were ever going to fucking make together?" Hey...this just occurred to me. Do y'all think Dick Cheney watches Deadwood? Because, is it just me, or does he ascribe rather closely to Al's whole communications philosophy? In any case, E.B. sighs, saying he's still hurt at being left in the dark. "You fucked up the game is the central fucking present issue," Al yells. He says they agreed on a payment of two thousand for E.B. if he pulled off the job, and asks if E.B. wants a percentage now, instead. "Is that such an inconceivable proposition?" E.B. asks, and Al sighs, saying fine. He offers him two percent after the first million, and half a percent after. E.B. is thrilled. "You wanna feel a damp palm, Al?" he asks, as I gag. "Select either of these hands!" Al blanches and gives him the brush off, reminding him to get Mrs. G's claim even if it means going to twenty thousand. Flora, the young girl with the photograph of her father, is over at the Bella Union, telling her story to Cy. He uses his smarm to the fullest extent of the law to lure her into his web of sin. Eddie does not recognize the picture, either, and when Joanie walks up (wearing that gorgeous blue-green velvet dress), Cy turns up the heat. He asks what Flora is going to do while Miles works at the Gem. She says she's trying to find something, also. She says she cooks, cleans, and sews, casting a knowing and sort of worried glance at Joanie. "Ah," Cy says. "How quick do you learn?" He ain't talking about sewing, either. Flora, understanding, says she learns pretty quick, and Cy sends her off with Joanie.