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Nightmare on Pike Street (And Union Street, and Spring Street…)
In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description!

That jaunty neon "Bowling 16 Lanes" sign over the bowling alley sure clashes with the businesslike floaty letters next to it reading, "BOSTON, MASSACHUSETTS." Inside, Sam Weiss doesn't look up from the book he's reading at the shoe rental counter to tell a visitor, "We're closed." Who else does he think it is other than Olivia? For of course it is she, returning her bowling shoes and thanking him for helping her get her memories back. Even though he wasn't in the episode when that happened. He just looks at her a long time before asking, "Who died?" Whoa, he's better than I thought.

A bit later, they're over by the lanes and she's apparently told him at least part of the story about Charlie and Gnarlie. "I guess getting your memory back wasn't your only problem," he observes, although he conspicuously declines to argue with her claim that she can handle her other issues. He prescribes "something to help you with everything you've been going through. Something to help you make sense of it all." Olivia figures he means bowling, but instead he starts to write something down on a sheet of spiral notepaper and says, "Whether you admit it or not, your life is something of a nightmare." For one thing, he's calling her by her first name now. He rips off the sheet and folds it over, sliding it across the table to her and saying, "I hope you don't have anything against the color red." No, just color in general, going by her wardrobe and makeup palette. We can't see what's written on the paper. All we can see is the bottom edge, folded up so that it doesn't quite cover the sheet's torn-off fringe. FRINGE! OMG A FRINGE!!!1!!

A pair of wingtipped feet step off an elevator into a floor-level lobby, which would be a lot more spacious if not for the big floaty letters reading "SEATTLE, WASHINGTON" taking up so much room. The mystery man is carrying a silver briefcase. Well, at least we know it's not one of the Observer's couriers; they carry black ones. This guy, though, looks like he has some dark intent of his own as he makes his way through a cube farm. A coworker warns that the boss is pretty pissed at him, and he continues walking. Though he doesn't fail to notice that the mailroom guy has turned into a vampire-toothed beastie, that another office guy has apparently been into the facial prosthetics from Angel, and a blonde woman's highlights can't draw attention from her fangs and green face. Finally our guy makes it into the conference room, where the boss (you can tell he's the boss because he's the one wearing suspenders) snaps at him, "Leeder, do you know how much trouble you've caused me? I am gong to destroy you!" And of all the monsters in the office, he's the scariest one of all, looking like Demon Giles, ram's horns and all. Our guy clubs him across the face with his briefcase, sending him sprawling across the conference table, and decks the coworker who tries to intervene before continuing to bring the case down on top of his boss's face, which is alternating between the demon-face and the boss-face (which is often confused for a demon-face by those who have undergone long-term exposure), although both versions are equally bloody and soon inert. Finally a couple of guys pull him away and pin him to the wall, where the camera focuses in on his eyes. They're shuttling from side to side like he's watching a tennis match in fast-forward mode. Fringey!

This must be Walter and Peter's new apartment. It's a nice place, plus they apparently have a whole crew of movers helping them bring their stuff in. Of course, even in this standard domestic setting, Walter can't help being eccentric, setting up his bed in the living room's fold-out couch. Peter reminds Walter that he's got a bedroom upstairs, but Walter assures him, "I promise to wear my shorts to bed so that if you bring any young ladies home there won't be any embarrassing moments." I think it's going to take more than shorts. And who's to say that Walter would be the author of all of Peter's embarrassing moments, anyway?

Just then Astrid enters with a jaunty "knock-knock" on the door frame. Walter is overwhelmed with joy to see her, or maybe it's just amazement that she can exist outside the lab and is not simply a holographic projection confined within its walls. She presents him with a housewarming present in the form of a takeout gift box, one whiff of which tells Walter that it's "Italian ciabatti bread." She says it's for good luck, and presents Peter with a gift of his own. "You shouldn't have," Peter says, because it's a case file sent over by Olivia. Astrid recaps the teaser for Peter, including the part about "This really crazy thing with his eyes." Astrid assures Peter that what she saw of the video surveillance footage told her this isn't normal, and that's enough for Peter to tell Walter to pack a bag. Which shouldn't be hard, since they're already moving. "We're going to Seattle," he announces. Not Astrid, though. She needs to get back to the lab to hold the beakers in place in case there's an earthquake.

Whatever the case, I'm glad to see that now that we know there's an interdimensional antichrist on the loose, the Fringe team is unflagging in their search for him. Oh, wait.

The floaty letters over an aerial shot of virtually the whole city, from Queen Anne to Georgetown, read "SEATTLE, WASHINGTON!" That is, if you imagine that the Space Needle is an exclamation point, which isn't hard to do given how the letters are positioned. Those letters do get playful, don't they? A yellow cab drops the Fringe Three off outside a hospital, and Walter looks around nervously as though expecting to be attacked at any moment. Or worse, as we'll soon discover. Olivia tips the cabbie as he unloads their bags from the trunk, then asks for his business card in case they need another ride while they're in town. I'm sure it's a coincidence that Sam Weiss mentioned the color red, and the cabbie is wearing a bright red sweater.

Olivia and the Bishops are led down the hospital hallway by a local cop named Detective Green. I can kind of see the source of Walter's distress: he's laden down with two heavy suitcases and a backpack, while his travel companions are empty-handed. Apparently he's not only a brilliant scientist, but a gifted porter as well. They learn from Det. Green that Leeder has just now been woken up. "He's been asleep for sixteen hours?" Peter asks, either surprised or jealous. "Like he was drugged," the agent confirms. By now they have reached the end of the hallway, and a window to Leeder's room. He's strapped down to his bed, of course, hooked up to all manner of monitors. Walter nervously tells Peter he doesn't want to enter the room. Peter agrees, his light tone belying the concerned look in his eyes. Or maybe he just thinks this is another opportunity to do a tough-guy squint.

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