Will exits the police station to find that someone's spraypainted the words "You're next" on his car. He pulls out his cell phone, dials, and says, "Daghlian, I want you and all your guys down here in the parking lot."
While eating a sandwich, Luke is haranguing Joan about her boat project, saying he's not entirely sure she grasps what's going on. She says she's building a boat, and asks what he's doing. He says it's lunchtime, and that Price knows she's skipping: "He wants to see you." Joan sneers, as she tears off another length of duct tape to add to that holding the boat together: "What are you, his lapdog? You do whatever he says?" Luke replies, "Look, I want to get into MIT. Price is in charge of our permanent records. Do the math." He claims she's freaking everyone out: "I hope this pile of junk is worth it." Joan: "I'm pretty sure it is."
Kevin wheels himself over to some shelves in the living room or den, and pulls out an old scrapbook ("The Slugger" is imprinted on the cover), which is full of pictures and clippings from his gobsmacking athletic career, which, in addition to baseball, seems to include such feats as breaking track records and throwing winning touchdowns. He must have been quite the superstar -- I mean, I know zilch about sports, but aren't there very few people who excel at several? Isn't it logistically difficult to play on several competitive fronts at once? He musta been something else. No wonder his whole self-image hangs on that. He lingers on a photograph of him and his dad from happier days, holding one of his trophies.