Speaking of Tina -- and we were, for most of that last scene -- she's driving out of the Imperial Beach area and fighting back tears. This is probably the worst time to run into one of her many fans and well-wishers, so naturally that's exactly what happens. A guy pulls up next to her in a pick-up truck. "Hey, Tina," he yells. "How's your ass?" Um...fine? And yours? "Got all your tapes," Loudy McLoudmouth louds. "Came to most of them." Yeah, probably not the compliment you imagine it to be, sir. In my idle moments, I sometimes think about what I'd say if I ever found myself in a conversation with an adult movie actress whose work I'd seen at one point or another -- you know, like at a dinner party. Shut up -- it could happen. Anyhow, what the devil would I say? "I'm a great admirer of your work"? "You seem really enthusiastic about pizza delivery boys"? Whatever tack I should take in such a social situation, I'm pretty sure this cheerful exchange we've just witnessed is not it. Tina's sad face confirms my suspicion.

After a quick shot of Butchie fumbling with a cell phone -- presumably to call Tina -- and promising to himself that he is going to get high, we go out to where John, Joe, and Bill are sitting in a van down by the border. A commercial on the heartbreak of shameful flooring is blaring on the radio. Do I have to tell you which of the three people in the van starts imitating the commercial? (Hint: Joe is busy surveying the landscape with his binoculars, and Bill is too preoccupied with looking uncomfortable.) "I would like to know our motive," Bill says, "and our specific purpose. And I will not directly ask a moron." Guess you're going to have to field the question then, Vietnam Joe. They're at the road where Joe came across John's stabbed body, and since John has been repeating words like "vato," Joe assumes that this is as good a place as any for the stakeout. And on that note, Joe suggests that they all enjoy a good spliff. "On that, I take no position," Bill huffs. Though he is adamant that the radio -- still in the midst of the longest flooring commercial ever recorded -- be turned off. Done and done.