Wyatt and Morgan are still at the Bella Union, living it up gambling and pinching the whores' asses. "That is my big brother, who I'm going to be assisting on some very important business for the man you work for," Morgan tells the girls, "and for whom I may put in a good word for you depending on how good you are to me." Shut up, ugly one.
Brian Cox must have been freaking exhausted after this episode, for now he is back in Al's office, killing me softly once again in conjunction with a sympathetic Ian McShane. "You seem blue, Jack," Al tells him. "That old actor I spoke of...passed," Langrishe explains. Al gives him about as heartfelt a "sorry" as he could ever give anyone, and takes a swig of whiskey. Langrishe moves on from this sad topic. "Perhaps, Al, given the sleigh ride which ensues," he says, "the best connection to leviathan may not be by harpoon." Al squints. "Explain yourself," he says. So Jack does explain, telling him all about his back adjustment flim flam of earlier in the day, and how this may be of use in the future to occupy Hearst. Al asks how. "Campaign towards relief protracted, punctuated by Pentecostal whoops and manual pushes and prods while invoking arcane authorities," Langrishe explains, "the host's unhealthy soul reliable to sustain his symptoms."
They step out on the balcony where they see Hearst, the bastard, himself wandering up and down his roof. "You were good to try a net on that cocksucker, Jack," Al thanks his friend, "on such a sorry day." Jack swigs and calls to Hearst across the way, drunkenly asking if his back is still feeling better. Hearst says that overall it is much improved. "A winning skirmish in a long campaign!" Jack boozes. Hearst nods and greets Al. "Old friends!" Jack yells, pointing back and forth between himself and Al, though why on Earth he'd want to reveal it, I have no idea. He adds that Hearst shouldn't stay out to long in the cold night. "Waiting for something," Hearst says, and neither Al nor I like the sound of it at all.
At the Bullock's, Martha tells Seth about the theater people moving into the Chez Amie, thus closing the loop on that transaction. "Thank you for telling me," Bullock sighs, still probably feeling bad about that morning, "without quarrel." She walks over to him, taking his hand. "And you acknowledge your lack of sweetness on retiring last evening?" she says, kind of flirtatiously. "I do," Bullock admits, "being uneasy about my letter's publication." He smiles a little, though he tries not to show it, and lowers his head. "Perhaps tonight," he says, shy, "will be twice as sweet." Hot! Married! Action! I love it.