Back at the glamorous dorm, Malik asks where Jake learned to play like that. Akron. And Malik? Well, he learned at the hands of one Michael Jordan. "Dad flew him out for a week." Jake goes, "Yeah. Well, I uh, owned a pair of Air Jordans once." Dude. I own a pair now. Black and purple, circa 1990. They're practically mint, baby. I'm going to sell them to help put my unborn children through college. eBay! Malik says Jake is a good guy, and he doesn't often say that, since his father raised him to trust no one. And that dad of his has done a lot of things he's not proud of, either. But that's the way it goes, and that's the way it will be for him when he's king. Jake, a.k.a. Sir Ethics-a-Lot, says, "Why don't you think you can change it?" 'Cause it's Malik's destiny. Wow, just one basketball game and these two are bonding like they've spent a whole semester together. What about hazing? Malik makes Jake wear one dorky track suit, and then he impresses Malik on the court, and kaboom, they're instant confidantes? And then, Jake resumes his spy duties by noting Malik's gym bag. Finally, the inevitable betrayal, now that Malik has Jake's trust. When Malik goes to crash, Jake snags his PDA. Malik says Jake can "keep" or "burn" the track suit (my suggestion? Sell it on eBay), and Jake laughs nervously. Night! I'm just gonna go spy on ya now, Your Highn-- never mind.
In a car, watching the Prince's dorm, is a young African-American man who looks a little like DMX. He watches a video transmission of Baako, who says all members of the royal family must be eliminated. Yeah. I think we all saw that coming.
Jake uploads the data off Malik's PDA; then his ear piece squawks. There's been a breach in dorm security! Someone's entered through the fire escape!
Jake bursts into the Prince's room, and he's in there getting busy with a pretty woman. They glare at Jake, who sputters, "Sorry! As you were." Resume getting-business! At least they aren't getting busy in a Burger King bathroom.
Mooorning. The lady Malik was with the night before, Anna, warns Jake that she's going for the utensils -- he isn't going to "get" her, is he? No, unless she was planning to gut him with her cereal spoon. Anna wonders what makes Jake qualified to be Malik's bodyguard, given his slim stature. Well, they are in college -- tell them about nanotechnology, Jake! And how you're the first human to be, um, "infected" with them. Or, you know, just tap your cranium and say your kung-fu and special knowledge is "all in here." Whatever. Jake says that makes it easier to kill a man with your bare hands. Malik is all, you did what? Jake sips coffee and stares him down like he's in the World Series of Poker, non-celebrity version. Malik cracks up and, offering Jake a pound, says he feels him. Jake says, "For shizzle?" Oh, boy. After the b-ball bonding, he says "for shizzle"? That's a damn shizzame. Oh, my bad. I mean "a dizzamn shizzame." It's sizzo hard to stizzop doing that, once you stizzart. I mean, back in the dizzay -- and you know that back in the dizzay, they never said "-izzay"? It's a fact. Now all those -izzles have just clouded my thinking. No wonder Snoop Dogg quit smoking weed. Anyway, it's Malik's twenty-first birthday this weekend, and they're having a party. Jake expresses some doubt as to whether the party is a good idea. Anna is rather insistent that the party go on. Oh, boy. I can see from a mile away that the DMX-looking assassin is going to be at the party, too. But whatever. Jake says he'll be at Malik's side all night long. Sans track suit, let's hope.