Back at the Snug Harbor, Ramon is putting the finishing touches on some hot dogs while Dickstein blabs on and on about his day. "Got dressed," Dickstein says. "Headed over to the internet café like a man possessed." Without looking up, Ramon points out that Dickstein goes there every day. "I never felt before like I had to, Ramon," Dickstein protests. "And I went. And I saw that they needed me. And I improvised that communication. And it was answered." Ramon wonders whether Dickstein will "improvise another one" along the lines of "What the hell do you people mean with all these stick figures?" Dickstein is too busy exulting in his triumphs to pay Ramon's needling much mind. Hey, while you're being helpful, Ramon suggests, why not help me bring all this food over to the Yosts? And away they go.
Cissy walks out to the clubhouse to bring one of her world-famous tuna fish sandwiches to Dr. Johnny Fever; note that she doesn't ask him how he likes it, either. Nevertheless, Dr. Johnny thanks her for her hospitality. "Come down later, if you feel like it," Cissy says. Considering that offer was made with nary a "fuck" or "asshole," it's like the most formal we've ever seen Cissy.
Tina and Linc are watching the press circus in front of the Yost house from the safety of Tina's sports car; she's still fretful about her apparent role in all this hoo-ha. "There's no way he'll come back if I'm here," she says. Linc's not having any of this: "When they're done doing whatever it is they do to you, do they pile-drive your head into the floor?" If they do, it's a sub-genre of adult filmmaking that I am unfamiliar with. But Linc's point is this: "You're making sense and then you talk so fucking stupid...you came back to be his mother, right? Because that's who you said you wanted to be. Aren't you still his fucking mother? Couldn't you do him some good, being his mother? Right now? How about if you go up there and say, 'Please bring my son back. I know I've been bad. Give me a chance. I'll be better. But please bring my boy back.'" Tina would love to do it, but she can't: "I'll fall apart. I'll fuck it up." "Then stay in here, and tell God," Linc says. Linc Stark -- heaven's instrument. Now, I think I need a good lie-down to sort all this through.