Dex makes his way to the neighbor's front porch, where a motion-detecting rubber skeleton jumps around and laughs as he passes by. He stops and admires it for a second, and rings the doorbell. A woman, seemingly in her mid-thirties, opens the door. "Hello," Dexter says cheerily. "I don't think we've met." "Boyfriend of the blonde next door?" she offers saltily. "I've seen you around. Look, I'm just getting in. I'm tired." Dexter tells her that's "precisely" why he's there. "We can't help but notice your dog...cries. A lot." Salty Asshole goes on to "explain" that her ex took off without the dog. "Trust me, I wish there was something I could do." Well, you could start by wiping that sarcastic grin off your shitty face, douchebag. Ahem. "You could, uh, take him inside." "Walter's an outside dog." "Hey, you put Walter inside, Walter's an inside dog," Dex replies, far more amiably than I would at this point. "He doesn't like being inside." At this, Dexter gets this face on him...I wish I could hug Michael C. Hall sometimes, because honestly, it's the nuances like this that make him so good. It's a very subtle shift, and his eyebrows crease ever so slightly, and now he's visibly annoyed. "Look, we'd really appreciate if you could find a way to keep him quiet. Kids are upset." "Maybe that's because they think their crackhead father's going to come back and beat their asses again." Ooh, not fucking cool! "You know what works for me? Earplugs." Salty then slams the door in Dexter's face, and he's...well, he's Dexter, and as he slowly walks back to Rita's place, he VOs, "I could make things so much easier for Rita...but that would be wrong." Yeah, I don't know, dude. Just kill her.