And we're on a small boat in the daytime, and Dexter is introducing himself. "My name is Dexter Morgan. I don't know what made me the way I am, but whatever it was left a hollow place inside." Well, clearly, dude. "People fake a lot of interactions, but I feel like I fake them all." Dexter then waves to another boat, saying, "Ahoy!" "And I fake them well." I guess. If you said "ahoy" like that to me, I'd think immediately that you were a serial killer. Apparently, Dexter doesn't think Harry and Doris Morgan, his foster parents, are to blame for how he turned out. Also, they're dead now. "I didn't kill them. Honest." Hmm. I guess I believe him, because he wouldn't be flashing back if he hated his dad enough to kill him.
"You're different, aren't you, Dexter?" says Ajax from The Warriors, a.k.a. James Remar, a.k.a. Harry Morgan, circa 1980 in Dexter's flashback. Little Dex wonders what he means. Apparently, Harry found the grave that Dexter made for their neighbor's dog, Buddy. "That dog was a noisy little creep, Dad. He was barking all night and Mom couldn't sleep and she was sick." "There were a lot of bones in there Dexter. Not just Buddy's." Nice. Dahmer. So, clearly Dexter started his...hobby...at a young age, as most serials do. Interesting that his father wasn't freaked out, but more concerned about having a dialogue with him about it. Back to Dexter on his boat (the aptly named "Slice of Life"), peeling out into the harbor, presumably to dump last night's kill in his "own small corner" of the world.
Back at his apartment now, with some Buena Vista Social Club-type music scoring us along, Dexter goes immediately to his A/C unit and yanks off the front, to reveal a box sitting in the vent. He takes it out and opens it, and we see that this is where is keeps all the blood-slides from his previous kills. Very organized and meticulous, showing that he's clearly been doing this for a while and has a routine down pat. He examines his most recent slide while voice-overing, "Blood. Sometimes it sets my teeth on edge. Other times it helps me control the chaos." He places the slide into the box, and closes it with a satisfied grin on his face. Over at his desk, he pulls out a file folder. "The code of Harry, my foster father, is satisfied." Code, you say? Why, whatever could you mean? "Harry was a great cop here in Miami. He taught me how to think like one, how to cover my tracks...I'm a very neat monster." I'll say.