"The truth is, I need to avoid Lila for now," Dexter VOs, now back at his house for the evening. "Harry taught me that the key to survival was staying one step ahead, but Lundy almost trapped me today. I can't be unprepared like that, again." Dex calls Lila, and says, "Hey, it's me." "Why ahnt you heah? I'm stahving!" Ech, gross. Deb is so right about her. "Oh, I thought you knew it's my bowling night," says Dexter. "Bowling, really?" coos Lila. "What, like Fred Flintstone?" "I'm more in the Barney Rubble category," says Dexter. "How fun!" says Lila. "I'd love to watch you bowl!" Dexter tries to avoid her tagging along by telling her it's really more of a "guys' night out," but Lila weasels her way into coming along anyway. Broken down, Dexter gives her the address of the alley, which she writes on her wall with a burnt chair-leg. What a freakshow.
At the lanes, Lila totally screams out during Dexter's backstroke, which is so uncool. He only knocks down three pins, but she cheers wildly anyway. Hugging Angel, she says, "I like to celebrate the little things in life." Oh, like fire? And stalking people? And being a general ass-clot? Fuck off, beeyotch. "Hey, if you like little things, I'm your man," says Masuka. "I mean, I'm not little everywhere. Some places, I'm just perfectly average." Shut up, dude. You're annoying me recently. Lila tells Masuka that he's adorable, and he complains that Angel got a hug and he only got a pat on the nose. "You're like a retarded puppet," says Angel. Nice! Virtual high-five, bro! Oh, he didn't hear me. That always happens! Dexter finishes up his frame, and Lila admires his ass, saying it looks cute when he bowls. Ugh. She excuses herself to go to the ladies' room, and Angel observes how hot she is. "Yes, she is," says Dexter, once again unenthusiastic.
Lundy answers his front door, and of course it's Deb, who storms right in. She admires his place: "Very, uh, grey." "Yes, the Bureau have always been known for their fashion sense," says Lundy. So, the FBI decorated your apartment? Why would they...forget it. ["I assumed it was a furnished place the FBI owns and lends out to agents who get sent there temporarily?" -- Wing Chun] "Honestly, all I care about is the kitchen," says Lundy, heading for that very room. "You cook?" asks Deb, which I think would be obvious, not just from what Lundy just said, but from the trays upon trays of tapas that Lundy has placed on the breakfast bar. "Like I said, best restaurant in Miami," he tells her. Deb is impressed: "Really? You're going to cook for me? Well, don't ever expect me to return the favor, unless you're a big fan of toast." Lundy: "I would love to eat your toast!" Damn, dude, wait until dinner's over, at least! They both laugh, and Deb asks what they're having for dinner. Lundy says, "Steak Florentine and grilled potatoes, Italian-style." Deb: "Fuckin' A." Lundy: "There's that mouth, again." Deb apologizes: "It's just the way I talk. If we're gonna be together, you'd better get used to it. I can't change who I am. I'm crass and dirty and...I have a very filthy mind." Lundy: "You're also pretty adorable." Deb: "I know." He tells her to start peeling potatoes, which she does, and he smacks her on the ass and plants a big, wet kiss on her. It's pretty cute. Don't like it? You know what not to do.