Quinn and Porter are sloshed; she's slurring some story about plagiarism, and Quinn pretends like he has the slightest idea who C.S. Lewis is. Batista then appears and points out that they have a long ride to Miami tomorrow (about eight hours; I had to look it up to see if Quinn was full of shit about being "stuck here overnight," but no), so does Quinn maybe want to call it? I like to think that Batista is worried about Quinn vomiting on his leather interiors, because otherwise, it'd be kind of fun to blast the radio on his shattered ass. Quinn, however, pulls Batista aside and tells him, and this is an accurate quote, that he's "about to cross a fucking college professor off [his] bucket list," like, Quinn having a bucket list, having that on his bucket list, and using the term "bucket list" are all WTF, obvs, but Batista points out another problem, that being that the woman is part of their investigation. Also, did Quinn recently get a tooth knocked out, or did he just eat something green at dinner? (Haha, like he hasn't been subsisting on liquids since he blew into town.) Anyway, Batista has neither the time nor the energy to argue with Quinn's dick, so he leaves him and the professor to have their next round...

...And then they're spilling through her doorway and getting rid of their clothing, which allows us to see that Porter has a tattoo of, as I said in the recaplet, what might possibly be a seven-headed snake; art design aside, it's surely got to be apocalypse-related. Not sure how God would feel about her sporting one of his sacred signs as a tramp stamp, but I'm not the one who's going to have to answer for it.

At home, Deb has a bunch of grisly photos laid out around her when Harrison wanders in to see her. She's goofy and playful with him, but when Jamie comes in with Deb's ring in hand, she's horrified to see the type of material to which Harrison's been unwittingly exposed. She hustles Harrison out of there, and then returns to upbraid Deb, asking if there isn't anywhere else she could do this. Deb gets shirty in response at the attitude, justified though it may be, and they are about to really get into it when Dexter just happens to arrive home. Getting two immediate earfuls, DVO wonders if there's any way he could just turn around and leave, but he steps up and tells Jamie that if Harrison's down for the night, she can just go home. After she withdraws, Deb wonders if Dexter's taking her side, but when Dexter points out that the photos can't be good for Harrison (as opposed to watching his father plan murder after murder), Deb drops the argument and admits she's a mess, and wonders if she does need to go to therapy. Dexter sighs that she doesn't need it any more than he does, which causes her to worriedly and sincerely reply, "Am I that fucked up?" HA HA HA! Not enough humor for my tastes, but sometimes this show pulls a great one out. Totally burned, Dexter walks out without a word. Hee.