Chen parks his old convertible on a residential street as Eli grouses about being chaperoned. You won't be as testy when he pulls your vision-clouded ass out of oncoming traffic, my tiny petunia. Eli continues to bitch, however, saying that this "scientist" has predicted five earthquakes that never came to pass, and Chen replies, "Obviously he's gotten the kinks of his prediction system worked out!" Somewhere, William of Occam is all, "You'd think I'd be able to ignore shit like that by now, BUT NO." Eli basically says the same thing, and then, having reached the right house, calls to a "Doctor Foote," who's up on a ladder toying with some wiring. Hey, production team? Maybe next time, park a car in front of the house, so it's not so obvious that they stopped down the street just to be able to have this little chat on the way. Anyway, Dr. Foote (it's hard not to think of him as "Dr. Scholl," but I'll do my best) babbles about his earthquake-proofing, and whee! There's AB's writing credit! Aw! I'd totally screencap it if I even knew what that meant. Anyway, after some extreme skepticism from Foote that they actually believe him, Eli tells him that he's interested in his method of earthquake prediction, and Foote brightens and corrects that to "seismic prognostication." Geek. Eli asks if he has a seismometer, and Foote chuckles: "You're looking at it." He invites them in...

...and inside, we see some massive equipment that's taking up almost the whole room, and Foote explains that "the entire house is basically one big seismic station." It's kind of too bad Queer Eye is dead, because I would have loved to see those queens swoon in horror at this sight. Eli notes, however, that despite the impressive equipment, Foote has yet to successfully predict an earthquake. Foote complains about the choice of word: "It implies psychic powers. Clumps me in with palm readers and fortune tellers." And with, you know, people who are sometimes right. Eli, seeing a picture on the wall, then asks Foote what his family thinks about his conversion of the house, and as gratified as I might be to find a believer were I in Foote's shoes, I'm pretty sure this is about where I'd be telling Eli to blow it out his ass. (Much as you are probably telling me now in regard to "Foote's shoes." I am very sorry.) Foote, however, tells them that his wife moved the fam down to Cupertino, and it's safer for them to be away from San Francisco anyway. Eli then asks about the epicenter, and Foote beckons them over to a map of the area he's marked up, and tells them that he thinks it'll be inland, most likely in -- you guessed it -- Silver Terrace. Chen's like, "Hear that, Aneurysm Boy?" Foote goes on that the magnitude will be at least 6.5, and that the shock waves could destroy things like... "...the Golden Gate Bridge," Eli finishes. He asks how far Foote is willing to take this, and Foote basically tells him that he's lost his family and his job and even the people who hang out on Mission think he's crazy, so pretty damn far...