The sheriff sits and swigs as Al says Yankton is coming against them. Bullock agrees. "Posting notice like that," he says, "not award[ing] even one commissioner of the three to local citizenry." Al says that as politicians "ain't got balls for this type of unsupported move, someone's backing their play, else they'd be here, bending over for us." Bullock asks if Al thinks it's Cy Tolliver. "Tolliver is us," Al says. "They ain't gonna pick Tolliver over me this early in the game." Al says it's someone from outside the camp. He asks after the N*gger General, whether the hooples killed him. Bullock says they tarred his shoulder. "What stopped them with that?" Al asks. Bullock: "Me." He stands to leave, and Al tells him that when he gets "back on my fuckin' feet, I'll carry my share of the water." Bullock, clenching ever-so-slightly: "My money's on you."

Over at Charlie's, Jane is performing the unenviable job of removing the tar from the shoulder of the NG. What an absolutely disgusting and horrible assault tarring was. I don't think I've ever thought about it, and to see its effects, even via the magic of make-up, is difficult to stomach. "Here comes some pain for you," she tells him, ripping off a strip. He bites his lip to deal with the anguish, and Jane suggests that he scream to help with the pain. They argue about the best way to handle it, and Jarry sits up in the cell and snottily tells them to be quiet. Jane ain't havin' it. "Not only will we not be quiet, you frog-faced fuck," she yells at him, grabbing up a piece of wood, "I'm gon' take this stick, and drag it back and forth across the bars of your cell!" Jarry VERY snottily reminds her that he is not a prisoner, he's in protected custody. And Jane reminds HIM that he's "in care of a deputy deputized by the deputy sheriff, who orders you to shut the FUCK UP!"

She goes back to the NG to prepare again to remove the tar, and he asks her if she knows Hostetler. She does. "I'd be glad if he heard," the NG says, "I'd have done just what he did, only quicker." Jane says she guesses he'll understand whatever that means, even if she doesn't. "He'll understand," the NG says. "I'd tell him myself, except I'm keepin' indoors tonight," and as Jane rips off another piece of tar, we see the suffering Hostetler back at his place, alone with his guilty conscience.