Dr. Thora runs past the security guards to check out Jake and his shirtless, pierced abdomen. One lab tech says, "You have a lot of guts, Jake, but if it weren't for the nanites I'd be stuffing them back inside you right now." You know, I could write a paper on the similarities between Jake and Buffy Summers. They both suffer from the responsibilities that were thrust on them against their will. They are victims of circumstance; fate decided their roles, and they chose to live up to the challenges. Buffy also had to limp through two under-watched seasons before really finding an audience. Jake doesn't have a peer-led Scooby gang, though. And where'd his motherfucking nemesis go at? Buffy had a few foils. The lab tech ran the diagnostic; Jake's fine now, the cut was superficial. "One inch deeper, though..." So Jake was lucky and protected by nanites. Dr. Thora apologizes for not being there earlier. "Late night, kind of." Jake is all, with Seminar Playa? "You guys are moving kind of fast, aren't you?" Ooh. Jake is jealous, Jake is jealous! The lab's phone rings; it's SP, calling to dish about the movie he saw with Dr. Thora. She says the prosthetic was fake, and Jake leaves, saying it was really "more of a slash than a stabbing." He walks by SP in the hallway, who proclaims himself to be more of a "Joanne Woodward man." Wow, what a line to say to a girl who thinks she's plain.
Jake pulls up SP's file to peruse it. He was born in Alexandria, VA, which I'll take as a shout-out. My name has two cities of Virginia in it. Then Leader and The Man come in and want to know more about Creepiovitch. One corporation that may have provided cash to the Polish killer has links to some other creepy guy, Vassily. Jake decides to pay a visit to La Fortunada.
La Fortunada on Vassily: "Ooh." It also could be "Ew." Or possibly "Ewe." Jake echoes the vowel sound. Why "ewe"? Because the last person that stepped to Vassily? "Vassily cut his hands off and sent them to his wife for Christmas." Ooh. You won't find that on any Amazon wish list. Jake will keep it in mind. La Fortunada says, "You're the field agent, in spite of the lack of shoulder holster. What's up with that, anyway? Oh, never mind. Bye Jake!" Hey, if you notice a lack of shoulder holster in the first act, that nonexistent shoulder holster better go off in the third.
We land at the St. Sebastian fundraiser, the theme of which is "a night in Atlantic City." I can't think of anything seedier and more depressing. Maybe a night in Reno, NV. All they meant by A.C. was boardwalk stuff, like knocking over milk bottles for cheap stuffed animals -- no crime or casinos. Yawn. Jake sees Whocaresah and pronounces her "fan-tabulous," though she looks rather awful with her hair all scraped back in a too-tight braided ponytail (extensions, I bet) and a cropped burgundy leather jacket. Jake tries to get the date off to a good start by mentioning all the cash he has on hand. "I have money to burn filling my...Diane?" Yup, Dr. Thora and Seminar Playa are there, too. SP was "all-city" and is a St. Sebastian alum. Jake is so not thrilled to see them, or to get this butch info on SP. The four stand around awkwardly, the ladies with their soft, fuzzy focus and the men in sharp, wrinkly relief. Let the carnival games begin.
Jake, with all his nanites, gets his ass kicked at the more jocular games by jocky SP. Whocaresah and Dr. Thora watch on the sidelines and talk. Whocaresah says she thought there was something between Jake and Dr. Thora. And did she say she and Jake were in the same division of the NSA? How could medical research and IT be in the same division? Dr. Thora clutches the huge stuffed dog SP wins her and says, "Heh."