"I feel you boys are ready for this Camino," the dealer who used to be Con Stapleton begins. "Between the two of us, we own more cars than you have on this lot," Linc answers, not exactly humbly. "So my guess is your feeling's probably right." That wasn't what the dealer had in mind, exactly. "What do you mean, pops?" Zack Morris asks rather snottily, as John makes an uh-oh face. "Oh, so I've got to know what I mean before I can have a feeling," the dealer says. "Do I have to know that you'll understand me? Do you have to know you'll understand before you'll listen?"
And now the dealer turns sarcastic: "Twenty-five cars between you? You should have let me sit down before you told me. I've got that many dealerships in each of that many sectors, and brands on goddamn franchises." Linc is listening to all this, as if the patter sounds very familiar. John tries to intervene: "He feels you're ready for the Camino." "You're off-line now, Country," the dealer snaps at John. I get the feeling these two know each other from somewhere. "How's he for high performance?" the dealer says, indicating John. "And he ain't who worst under-powered. Intrusions, evanescences -- I'm a shepherd without crook or understanding. Fits and stops and starts. Waves and ripples and ramifications. Busted knee, mother-son handjobs... Christ, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ!" Either someone's been keeping up on his recaps, or someone is an otherworldly messenger not unlike our friend John. The dealer hits the hood of the car and declares, "El Camino -- $15,000, as is." That...does not seem like a good deal. But I guess when you can pull $15,000 cash out of your pocket, as John just has, you really don't need to waste much time haggling. Linc wonders if the car is gassed; "Fucking-a right, it's gassed, Linc," John says. "You and your twenty-five cars," the dealer says to Linc and Zack Morris. "Circle and line on the wall, and zeroes and goddamn ones is what to turn the both of your gifts to. And not one damn minute to waste." "Ragheads are going to get themselves eradicated," John says, apparently out of nowhere. "Country," the dealer fires back. "I took you off-line." The dealer strides off, ordering his off-camera flunky Manuel to "get a cage on this thing." John hugs the hood of the car.
From that interesting and doubtlessly revelatory scene, we go to the decidedly less crucial Freddy-Moana negotiations. Would you mind if I bottom-lined it for you, folks? Good. Freddy wonders why it's taken Moana so long to respond to his offer and speculates that perhaps Moana thinks he's up to no good; Moana allows that this is all a distinct possibility. Freddy also notes that Moana didn't "come in here blazing," which suggests that he didn't come alone and that he's found a new partner/boss. Anyhow, Freddy proposes his buyout offer -- all he wants, really, is to get out of the business -- and tells Moana that he'll deal with him and him alone. And...scene.