Football field, night. Smash, in full uniform, runs sprints alone, until the Dillon Panthers come running onto the field whooping and hollering and he breaks into a wide grin. Coach Taylor -- hair released from baseball cap and just cavorting around on his head -- asks Smash if he's ready to go live, and the boys start playing a pick-up game. Smash takes a bit to get into the swing of things, but then busts through the pack and runs beautifully for a touchdown .... until right at the end, he gets tackled really roughly by The Galoot. Smash is down! Will he get up? Won't he? I'm biting my fingernails. Well, not really. Because I think we all know this one will end with Smash slowing rising up, smiling, and declaring that they gotta keep playing. Smash is back!
Lyla and Tim head to lunch at a fancy restaurant. Tim is nervous, but he runs through a few talking points he'll try to hit at lunch. Lyla asks him how he knows the details of McCoy's Oklahoma football career, and Tim is like "Google." And when Lyla giggles, "I didn't know you Googled!" Tim replies, "I'm not retarded." Hee. They walk into the lion's den and make their introductions. As everyone files into the dining room, Buddy keeps Tim back a second. "Two things: I don't like you with my daughter. Two, my relationship with Joe McCoy is extremely important. You do not jeopardize it in any way, or I will hurt you." Cut to Tim totally cut down. At table, lots of rich people talktalktalk about fancy anniversary presents and such. Mr. McCoy tries to ask Tim a few questions and all he can say is, "Um." Like, repeatedly. It's terribly uncomfortable. Everyone looks at him, the tension finally broken a bit by the waiter coming to take orders. A nice little detail -- Buddy orders off menu. He wants a Porterhouse, but it's not on the menu. He instructs the waiter to "Have Wade cut me one." The waiter moves around to Tim, who frantically scans the menu (all Sea Bass and Squab) and orders the Squab. Mrs. McCoy gasps and asks Tim if he's sure. And then Tim, trying to pretend like he knows what he's doing, asks for it "rare." Rare bird. Mmmm. All we need here is for him to shoot an escargot shell off into the neighboring table and we've got a lovely little Pretty Man situation.