Luke's eyes are watering enough for a couple of tears to run down his face. Through a mouthful of chips, he says, "Dude, these are amazing." Friedman agrees: "Sun Chips. They're the best-kept secret in the chip aisle." Luke, still sharing his mouthful of half-chewed chips with us, declares, "They're like the filet mignon of the genus Chipium, dude, so…" Frink totally agrees. Luke stuffs more in his mouth and raves about the optimal sweet-spice ratio. "I could cry, dude. I -- I am crying!" They chortle about that, and Friedman gloats, "Dude: CB-1 receptor shields weakening." Luke acquiesces: "Taking a nap, maybe. You just don't know how hard your neurons have been working until you give them a little downtime." Friedman: "Soak it up, man. Soak it up." Luke worries about Friedman's parents smelling it. Friedman indicates the HEPA filter prominently situated in the foreground, saying it's for his allergies, but "There could be a biological attack and the HEPA would save the Friedmans." Well, thank God for small favours. Also: You really are baked if you believe that. Oh, wait! I almost missed it: is that proof positive that Friedman is his last name?

Luke suddenly wonders, "Do you think there will be? A biological attack someday?" Friedman starts to stutter an answer when Luke's cell phone rings. Luke panics a little, picking it up and saying, "Who, who, who, who?" We see an image of Grace looking annoyed on his phone display, although it's way clearer than it would actually appear. Luke tells Friedman who it is, and Friedman says, "Buzz kill! Let it ring!" Luke is getting more panicky, saying he has to answer it because it won't stop. Friedman: "It's Grace! You might as well give the feds a jingle!" What? Yeah, Grace is all over police and state intervention in the lives of the citizenry. It stops ringing and Luke says, "She hung up. She must know…" Friedman tells him to chill out: "Let's put some music on!" Friedman rambles about Snoop Dogg as Luke becomes mesmerized by Friedman's groovy swirling screensaver. He tells Friedman his computer's on. Friedman says it's in power save mode. He decides Pink Floyd is too obvious a musical selection. ["Making that the first time in history that that has ever happened." -- Sars] Luke's crawled over to Friedman's monitor now and, through the fish-eye lens of the webcam, tells Friedman that his camera's on and pointed at them. I can't even tell you how much I don't want to think about Friedman and…webcams. I think my soul just left my body. Luke gets more panicky: "Dude! We could be mass broadcasting all over the internet!" Friedman assures him it's not online and decides on Björk, then dismisses her as "too Nordic." Through the webcam, we see Luke starting to freak a bit: "No, dude, it could be mass broadcasting all over the Internet!" Friedman gets shrieky: "Dude, stop saying 'mass broadcasting all over the Internet'!"