Lila's hanging some fabric in her apartment, and Deb strolls in as if she owns the place. Fucking cops. "Wow, I thought I lived in a shit can," says Deb, mocking Lila's "decor." "Officah Mohgan, 'ave you come to inquiah about my welfeh?" Deb gets right to it: "I want you to leave Miami tonight. Don't ever come back, don't ever contact Angel or Dexter again." Lila puts on her best bitch face (not exactly a difficult task), and says, "And, em, why would I listen to you?" "'Cause I'm a cop, and you're here on an expired visa." Lila looks like she was slapped. "I know your real name, and I've contacted immigration. Officers will be here any day now. They'll arrest you, and deport you, and it won't be pretty." "If this is true, why ah you telling me this?" "Because I want you the fuck out of here, now. Whether you leave on your own, or immigration hauls your sorry ass away, I don't give a shit. But I don't want to give you one more day to fuck with the people I care about. I want you gone!" I wonder if she wants her to leave. Lila tells her, "You don't want to do this." "It's done. Tonight." Nice, Deb! You give that beyotch the what for! Lila looks extra big-ass not psyched.
Moments later, she runs to her car and busts out Dexter's GPS. She scrolls through previous destinations, and finds one at 113 County Road 16, Gator Key, FL 33009, and puts the pedal to the metal. Dude, this has the potential to get really fucked up. Or awesome. Or both!
Dexter's prepping some steaks for his dinner with Deb, and VOing, "I keep expecting to come to my senses, but the pressure is lifting with each step I take. I've spent a lifetime keeping up my guard, watching my back, wearing my mask. Relief was never in sight, until now. If anyone deserves to take me in to custody, it's Deb, but how do I tell her what I am?" Dexter throws the steak into the pan, and they start to sizzle immediately.
Later, Deb is sitting in the living room, and Dex plops her plate of steak and potatoes in front of her. She digs right in as Dexter makes his way to the couch and sits across from her. She looks at him, chewing, clearly satisfied with the food. "Deb, I'm the Bay Harbor Butcher," he says, matter-of-factly, and Deb immediately begins to choke on her steak. Dexter rushes to her aid as some silly, upbeat music plays in the score, letting us in on the daydream joke. In another scenario, Dex tells her again, and she immediately jumps to her feet and whips out her sidearm. "On the ground! Down on the ground, motherfucker!" Next: "It's me. I'm the Bay Harbor Butcher." Deb sobs uncontrollably, saying "No!" over and over again. In the last one, Deb just pops a bullet straight through Dex's face, killing him instantly. "This isn't going to be easy," Dex VOs, back in reality with his sizzling meat. A moment later, Deb comes in, and she's got a couple sixers. "I brought extra beer," she proclaims, proud of herself. Hey, I'm proud too; I love beer! "We're gettin' drunk!" "Fine with me," says Dex. "What's the occasion?" Deb informs Dex that she "ran Lila out of town," and Dex gives her an unbelieving look. "Really?" "Yeah. Turns out she's here illegally. You should have seen me, Dex. I was like an Old West Sheriff." You should know: you're dating Wild Bill Hickok, after all. Deb opens a beer, and starts draining it quickly. Ah, sweet, hoppy nectar of life. Good for you, Deb. Drink it down.