Rita's phone rings, and of course it's FOP. The scene shifts to his little motel room, where beer bottles are strewn all around. "Just making sure dear Dexter is dealing decently with his dead dad." Aw, did someone just learn about alliteration in eighth grade English? As FOP chuckles at his own rapier wit, Rita tells him that everyone's fine. "We'll see you on Monday." "No, talk to me. You having fun? Because I'm not." "Paul," Rita exasps. "I could have been at the circus, eating peanuts, stepping in elephant shit." Rita explains that if he wants to build up to more visitation rights, this is the type of shit he needs to stop pulling. "So maybe, you'd like to just politely hang up," she says. "You're right. You have a great weekend," FOP says sarcastically and hangs up. Dude, I hate FOP. He's such a rage-ball. Hate!

Dexter's standing over the kitchen sink as the water runs, VOing, "A secret life. The only thing Joe and I have in common. There's nothing else in this house to connect us." All of a sudden, Rudy's there, which...duh. "Hiding out?" he asks. "Cleaning up," Dex replies. "I can only imagine what you're going through." "A lot of Lemon Fresh Joy," says Dex, trying to joke. "You joke. Good defense, by the way." "Thank you, I think." Rudy brings up how heavy it must feel that Joe could actually be Dexter's father. "The only way that's a possibility is if Harry was wrong, and, uh, that's just not possible." "Or he lied," says Rudy.