Back to Freddy and Palaka in their suite: Palaka is ranting on and on about how it's bad luck to buy a gift and not give it to the intended recipient. And soon we see why -- he bought Freddy a sunglass-wearing, leather-clad teddy bear ("Bought it for good luck, specifically for you and your visit to the mainland," Palaka says), but never got around to giving it to him on account of that sudden, unexpected wrist fracture. "Disaster upon disaster ever since," Palaka continues. "Never a streak as worse as this." Freddy responds to this belated gesture by seizing the teddy bear from Palaka's outstretched arms and hurling it out the door into the parking lot. I can envision the letter to Miss Manners now: Dear Miss Manners:

As a goodwill gesture to my boss, I bought him a teddy bear to commemorate a recent business trip. But he did not take my gift in the manner in which I intended. How ever can I save face with him the next time he comes to visit?

Signed,
Dismayed in Imperial Beach.

Dear Dismayed:

Might I suggest matching tattoos from a disreputable parlor?

Anyhow, Palaka scurries to recover the bear and returns it to Freddy -- "For the boy," he whimpers -- who strides out into the parking lot, espies Cunningham and his hybrid car, and approaches. He flings the teddy bear at Cunningham's feet -- "For the boy! That boy Shaun's gone," he snarls -- and marches back to his room. Hey, Teddy's got a play date! Cunningham heads over to the abandoned bar that caused him such agita in the last episode.

Hey, everyone -- it's Dr. Smith! He's letting himself into a vacated and not altogether sanitary-looking office space. His expression goes from hopeful confidence to overwhelmed dismay in about the time it takes him to walk down a dilapidated hallway. That's interspersed with shots of Cunningham walking into a bar with a forced grin on his face -- you can understand his discomfort once you see the shot of a visibly decaying, still-gray Mr. Rollins sitting at one of the tables and Shaun sitting at the bar. Back to Dr. Smith, who all but sprints out of the crappy office. I guess we're supposed to draw parallels between their general discomfort.