"I left a message so we wouldn't have to have this conversation," says Rita, annoyed. "Yeah, which is why I hustled over here, so we could hash this out like adults," replies FOP, with his stupid Muppet hair flapping every which way. Rita insists that she's still going out of town, and FOP is pissed that it's going to cost him his visit with his children. "It's not your call," she tells him. "The kids are already settled at Colleen's. You can have your visit when we get back." Again, with the Colleen! Who is this elusive woman? Paul is fucking steamed, and he smacks something off the table. Rita stares ahead with a If You're Going To Act Like A Baby, Expect To Be Treated Like One face on. "It's just that I already laid out cash for the tickets," says FOP. "A death in the family trumps the circus." "Dexter's not your family, I am." They share a gunslinger moment as Dexter pokes his head in to ask if Rita's ready. "Hey, Paul." Then, to Rita: "We'd better hit the road." FOP surls past him with Rita close behind. Road trip!
Salsa music ushers Rita and Dexter up to the late Joe Driscoll's house, a small, boxy thing. Dexter belches as he exits the vehicle, and comments that maybe fast food wasn't the best plan. "They should have served a cardiologist with these burgers!" "Junk food's the unwritten rule of the road," says Rita, and I don't totally agree. Jerky? Sure. Chips? Absolutely. McD's? Nay. That's a sure-fire projectile vomit combo, for me. Rita thinks the house looks nice, and Dexter mentions that there should be a key under the mat. Some old lady comes out of her house across the street and asks them if they're her new neighbors. "No, we're just here to clear up some things with the estate," Dexter says. "So sad about Mr. Driscoll. He was only sixty, you know. Too young for a heart attack. He used to clean my gutters every fall." Wow, she must be really lonely. That's sad. "I don't know what I'm going to do now. Unless you know how to clean gutters!" Dexter tells her they won't be there for that long. "Have a good day!" The lady gives a pissed-off look as Rita and Dexter go inside.
Inside, the place looks super dusty, and all the furniture is that mid-70s, shit-brown, cheap-ass wood. Basically, what I imagine Ikea was probably making three decades ago. There are bowling trophies, a couple of plaques on the walls, and heinous couches. "A bachelor definitely lived here," comments Rita. "I don't want a house in Dade City," says Dex. "Which means it's going to need to be packed up," Rita elaborates. "I don't think anybody else is going to do it, so I guess that leaves us. Told you you need me." Yeah, you did. It's true. It's not a terrible place. A little paint, a Swiffer...it could be liveable.