That night, at home, Dexter presents Astor with a guitar, so she can take lessons. This is a HUGE step up from Nerd Academy or whatever that was, and so Astor manages a slightly less intense scowl as she says she'll see. Dex then brushes off Rita's advice that you can't force kids to do what they want to do. Except for school, church, bedtime, brushing their teeth, wearing pants, eating vegetables, taking a bath, and giving Grandma a hug. But, you know, other than that. (Actually, though, Rita's right, and Dexter's method of "extracurriculars by parental decree" is a recipe for disaster.) Rita then reminds him that Cody's Young Sailors' Club is having a camping trip this weekend, and Dexter's signed up to chaperone. Dex is kind of hilarious with his "I didn't know I'd have to get involved" whining. But there's no way he can beg off on account of "stuff" (i.e., killing Farrow), so Dex resolves to kill Farrow tonight instead. He verbally ticks off a list of errands he needs to run to prep for camping, while DVO mentally ticks off his to-do list for a quickie murder. Rita appreciates Dexter realizing how important this is for Cody and sends him on his way.
So now Dexter's got a man to kill and a short window to do it in. It feels awfully similar to the beginning of the season, doesn't it? So Dex follows Farrow to a club and spies on him from afar. But we see Quinn is following Dexter, so we've got some nice threeway action here, which Farrow would no doubt appreciate. After staring at Farrow as he gets awfully familiar with some young lady ("awfully familiar" including some breast-suckling, if you must know), Dex instructs one of the cocktail boys to tell Mr. Farrow that a homeless guy is throwing up in the back seat of his car. It's a decent way to get the Eurotrash Farrow to come running, I have to admit, but I'm not exactly bougie and I can tell you right now I would not be thrilled in that instance either. Farrow does indeed make a beeline for the door when he gets the news, but before Dexter can chase after him, he spots Quinn and halts in his tracks. DVO makes a judgment call that this whole enterprise just became too risky. Not a bad call by DVO. But he still needs to give Quinn the slip, and he does so in pretty much the most simplistic way possible. He points Quinn out to some young chippie and is all, "That's QUINN! Can you believe he's here?" The girl is exactly the kind of dumb Dex is looking for, and while she flirts with Quinn, Dex slips away. Quinn, who realizes he's been duped after about 30 seconds of flirting, is pissed that "this lab geek" gave him the slip.
So Dexter shelves his killing plans for the night and figures he might as well prep the boat for the camping trip anyway. Meanwhile, Arthur continues to plane and sand and moan.
The next morning, Dexter takes Cody and three of his scout-mates out across Biscayne Bay and to their camp site. Dex is frustrated he hasn't been able to kill Farrow, but he's at least happy to show Cody a good time.
At work, Debra sits at her desk and contemplates the stuffed box of Trinity files. She eyes LaGuerta's office, waiting for the perfect time to pitch her case. It looks like she's talked herself out of it for today when she grabs her abdomen, a little residual pain from the shooting. This gives her an idea. Instead of hauling the whole huge case box into LaGuerta's office, she instead pulls one file and heads on in.
At the camp site, Dexter is going full bore with this Dad thing, showing Cody how to tie knots for their tent. Cody's like, "That's cool, Dexter, but can I throw dirt with the other kids?" Man, between this and Where the Wild Things Are, pop culture is making a strong case for dirt clods as legitimate entertainment. I remain dubious. Harry shows up to once again nag Dexter about killing Trinity. "After Farrow," Dexter procrastinates.
Meanwhile, Deb emerges from LaGuerta's office barely suppressing a smile. She calls Dexter with the good news: She got the go-ahead to open a Trinity investigation. She explains that rather than pitching the whole Trinity shebang, she went with just the bludgeoning. They go back 30 years, and Miami Metro already has a head start in that poor sandwich counter guy. Dexter tries to hide his annoyance that now he's got one more cook in his kitchen.
Quinn approaches Angel with the rumors about him and LaGuerta. Of course, he's Quinn, so he phrases it as "a little bump-n-grind." (He's also maybe wearing the same shirt he was last night, which raises some bump-n-grind questions of my own, but let's leave that aside.) Angel leaps to LaGuerta's defense and tells Quinn never to talk about her that way again. Quinn backs off and observes that Angel must really like her. Angel heads right for LaGuerta's office, and they compare notes. Angel playfully blames it on LaGuerta, saying she keeps staring at his culo. They share a laugh before they get to mooning over each other and how they miss one another but they made their choice and now their love must wither on the vine. Or something.
That night, Dexter and the other sailing dads join their kids around the campfire. One dad is telling a particularly inept urban legend pastiche that's supposed to pass for a ghost story. Both DVO and I are disgusted by this joker. So Dexter decides to tell one of his own. He tells the tale of a man they call Trinity, who is not a man but a monster. Born in a bathtub full of blood, for countless years he's roamed the countryside, killing the innocent. Leaving behind bits of his dead sister. "Sometimes," Dex continues, "he'll sneak up behind a man and raise his hammer overhead. And then he'll swing it down and --" At which point Dexter is rudely interrupted by Storytelling Amateur Dad over there. Probably for the best that Dexter wasn't able to get to the spatter part, given his vast clinical vocabulary on the subject, but I still can't abide a man who can't tell the hook story correctly. Anyway, the kids all hit their sleeping bags.
Arthur's still in wood shop, as it were. We see now that he's assembling something from his planks.
Dexter zips Cody into his tent, then looks around and realizes the camp is all asleep, and it's only 9PM. Time enough to kill a douchebag and make it back before sunrise. Well it certainly sounds like a good idea! So Dex takes his butcher-mobile out for a ride back to the mainland.
Cut to Farrow at his studio, where he's distracted by a series of flashing lights in the other room. He follows the strobe and makes for fairly easy pickings when Dexter jumps him from behind and knocks him out. When he comes to, he's surrounded by the familiar (to us) sight of Dexter's plastic-wrap, plus the familiar (to him) sight of photos of the various models he's killed. As ever, Dexter makes quite the art director.
So while Dexter pontificates (I love him, but he's at his most tedious when he's having these fireside chats (homicide chats?) with his victims) and cuts himself a blood sample, Farrow feverishly tries to plead his innocence. He also tries to explain the concept of