Dexter is staring at Joe Driscoll's house, then turns around and hands the keys off to the real estate broker. Rudy walks up and says, "I know I should be sorry that we met under these circumstances, but truthfully, I think it was the best way to get to know you." They shake hands, and Rudy maintains an intense gaze at Dexter's face. Deb steps up and bitches, "Realtor says you won't get much for it." "Well, more than if I kept it." "Are we good?" Deb asks. Well, I don't know about Dexter, but I think you're pretty fucking far from good right now, you self-centered cock-ass. I mean, seriously. Way to hold a grudge, there, stretch. Deb hugs Dexter warmly as he says we're fine and meets Rudy's glare, which is still extra big-ass intense, and making me feel kind of not awesome. Deb tells Dex she'll see him at the station, and she and Rudy head towards their car. As Rudy shuts the car door behind Deb, he glances nervously across the street towards the now-emerging old lady from before. As he gets into the driver's side, she starts calling out, "Cable repairman! Wait! Don't go!" Rudy pointedly ignores her and peels out as fast as he can. Dexter and Rita, in their car, are ready to go. "Alone again," Rita sighs, and Dexter replies, "Finally," relieved. "You know what? I'm glad you were here," he tells her in a nice, genuine moment. She beams at him and says, "Thought you would be." As Dexter backs out of the driveway, the old woman tries to get his attention to ask about "the cable repairman," but Dexter just waves at her and takes off. The old lady looks pissed, because her fucking antenna's broken and now who's gonna fuckin' fix it? Not the cable repairman, that's for sure.
Rita's putting the kids to bed, and is shutting the lights when there's a belligerent knock at the front door. Uh-oh. This can't be good. Before she even reaches the door, FOP is all, "Rita, it's me." She opens the door a crack, and FOP barrels in, drunk as a skunk. "They're asleep," says Rita. "Yeah, well I should have been here, okay?" "It's late, and you're drunk, and you can't keep coming by here unannounced," says Rita, laying down the law. "You don't call the shots, okay?" Fucking Paul. Rita tells him she wants him to leave, and he tells her about his lack of ability to give a fuck about what she wants. Because he's five. "I want my fuckin' kids!" Dude, keep it down, they just got to sleep. "You're going to scare them," says Rita. FOP shoves past her, saying, "They don't want to see me? Those kids are gonna remember who the head of this fucking family is." Wow, dude. We're seeing this bastard's true colors now. What raging prick-job. Rita stops him and placates him: "You're right. I've been awful. I just didn't realize I was hurting you so much. I can make it up to you. Let me try." She grabs him by the hand and slowly lures him into the bedroom with the false hope of getting laid. Once they're in there, FOP grabs her by the hair, and she's instantly afraid, and I can't blame her. "Where the fuck are you going?" FOP spits at her, shoving her onto the bed forcefully. Rita keeps making unintelligible noises, clearly frightened out of her wits as Paul tries to rape her. "Wanna play rough, eh? Is that what you want?" "No!" "You fucking whore!" As FOP takes his tank off, Rita reaches under the bed and grabs a Louisville Slugger, and slams Paul across the head with it, dropping him to the ground. That shit was sweet! As he lays on the floor, debilitated, Rita grabs the kids and flees the scene.