"We're going to avenge Etta. Windmark is next," says Peter, utterly emotionlessly -- solid work by Joshua Jackson, really -- and as he scribbles "Windmark" above a picture of Windmark -- as a helpful reminder of which friggin' bald guy Windmark is -- Olivia backs away, despondent and scared. She leaves the apartment, and Peter doesn't even say goodbye. Just keeps working.
Elsewhere, Walter opens up a cabinet in which he's collected all the bits of a plan. It's like playing a video game and you get some sort of artifact and you don't know what you'll need it for until you talk to a wizard in a dungeon over the mountains much later. He turns on the radio and listens to the static for a little while, then puts it down.
He's taken back his Bowie LP, and puts it on the turntable -- he's shaking terribly, we can see as he drops the needle on the record -- and stands sadly, listening to the title track. Astrid comes in to ask if she can get him anything. He's fine. Well, not fine, but there's nothing Astrid can get him to help. She says they did good today, and gives him a kiss on the cheek. She leaves. He cranks up the volume, Peter keeps scribbling, Windmark walks down a hallway to an elevator. Peter writes "ELEVATOR" down, Walter reclines in a dentist's chair and cries, and Windmark gets in the elevator. Peter runs his hand through his hair, comes out with a nice clump. In case we're not sure what that means, the camera switches focus to a picture of a Baldie. And here's how we know Peter's gone completely emotionless. Instead of looking at all freaked out, he just cocks his head quizzically at this new development.
Daniel is a writer in Newfoundland with a wife and a daughter. Have a good weekend, America! Also, your four-down "football." Follow him on Twitter (@DanMacEachern) or email him at firstname.lastname@example.org.