Back in Al's office, a much more upsetting employee/manager conversation is going on. Al has called Johnny into his office and is pouring him a man-to-man shot. Like a dad telling his kid that they're having to put down the family dog, Al breaks it to Johnny that his favorite Gem girl, Jen, will have to die in Trixie's place. God, it is awful. "Hearst won't stand for an empty coffin," Al says, as Johnny's lower lip begins to quiver. "Likely, he paid most attention to Trixie's tits and snatch, so Jen'll adequately pass." They both throw back a painful shot, each. Johnny falls into a chair: "Jesus Christ." Al is genuinely sympathetic. "I know," he says. "You like her." Johnny nods. "She's a nice girl," he says as Al pours another shot. "She's learning to read..." My heart breaks yet again when Al tells him to go and spend some time with Jen and then let him know when he's done. This is too much for Johnny and his face goes through every stage of grief as he tells Al that Jen will be scared of him. Al doesn't get mad. "I've done it once or twice, Johnny," he assures his crying henchman. "She won't know that's what I'm there for." Johnny is a mess. "She won't need to," he says, breaking down. "You scare her no matter what." He tears up again, slams his fist on the table and tells Al to just give him the fucking knife. Stomping out the door, he turns back in anger. "Fucking Trixie!" he complains and, again, Al is all understanding: "Don't get me started."
Speaking of Trixie, damn her bad shot, she's over at Sol's lacing up her boots. He asks her where she's going. "Going for a stroll to the polls," she tells him. "One vote for Star buys a hand job, repeaters get a suck." It's 2004 in Florida all over again! Sol doesn't want her leaving, fearing Hearst's retribution, but she's stir-crazy and determined. "I'm through staying inside," she says. "If something's to happen, let it happen to me." Well, that tears it. Sol has had it with everybody else getting to act like pre-menstrual teenagers and always having to be Mr. Nice Guy. He calls her a selfish c*nt, which hello, is a bit extreme, and she snaps right back at him. "No one asked you to put me up," she points out and he says that's right, it was his choice and he's not afraid of anything that may happen to him as a result of harboring her. She's says she's not afraid, either, and he modifies it that she's clearly not afraid of dying. See, the thing is, Trixie has about enough people telling her what to do and calling her names, Sol. "Well, ain't you clever?" she spits. "Ain't you fucking clever, you deep thinkin' fuckin' Jew!" Both of them are at their very edges and this sends Sol right over. "Why bother with your boots then, Trixie," he screams as he grabs her by the shoulders and shoves her toward the door, "if you're going to be on your knees?" She tries to hit him, and yells for him to let her walk out by herself, but he's too far gone. "The fuck if I will!" he rages. "At least I can say I threw you out if you'd rather die than live with me!" With that, he opens the door, slings her outside and slams it. Immediately, he regrets the whole thing and falls into a chair, burying his face in his hands. Trixie is sorry, too. A quiet knock on the door reveals her outside, and when he lets her back in, she falls into his arms and sobs with him.