"He must read some old fucking magazines," Butchie says to Mitch about John, still laboring under the assumption that John has come to him for surfing lessons. Butchie observes that John told him that Mitch should get back in the game; funny thing, Mitch realizes, John said the exact same thing to him that morning. "He's harmless," Butchie concludes. "And fucking rich." Nevertheless, Mitch would like a word with Butchie in private. They go into another room where Mitch tells his son that he just found out he's pretty sick, hence his short fuse. Butchie blames his own bad temper on being "dope sick," since he hasn't had the means or opportunity to shoot up in a good, long while. If I didn't know any better, I'd say these two are apologizing to one another. Anyhow, Mitch explains his symptoms -- primarily the whole levitation thing -- which is when he starts floating again. "You're up," Butchie says, not without a hint of measured panic. "It feels like I am," Mitch says calmly. Bill is watching all this take place in silhouette against the shade, and his appalled facial reaction may be the funniest moment of this particular episode. "Well if that's a tumor, where do I sign up?" Butchie wonders. Meanwhile, Bill -- doubtlessly angered that someone would break the law of physics on his watch -- decides to take his aggression out on John. "I got my eye on you," Bill snaps at John. "I got my eye on you," John repeats. "No, I got my eye on you," Bill counters. And so on -- was there a word count Milch felt he had to reach for this episode?
At the luxuriously barren beachfront apartment of Barry Cunningham, Dickstein is making sure that the Mega-Millions Lottery champ does not have a second firearm he's been keeping under wraps. He does not, "against the advice of Pete's Pistol Hut." Dickstein asks whether Cunningham thinks he will be a danger to himself; Cunningham insists he does not. Dickstein wonders if Cunningham surfs; Cunningham scoffs -- he does not. He does, however, drink his wine out of flowery paper cups while sitting cross-legged on the carpet of his unfurnished apartment. And with that, Dickstein bids Cunningham adieu.
Family beach trip! It's all the Yosts plus John plus Bill -- looks like John's going to get that surfing lesson, after all. Butchie wants to know if maybe John exaggerated his skill with the surfboard a little bit and may have never been on a board; John admits that he did, though it's impossible to tell whether this is a genuine admission or just that "I'll repeat what you just said in a sing-songy cadence" thing of his. Rather than abandon what he sees as his cash-rich, sense-poor meal ticket, Butchie cooks up a scheme -- they'll paddle out to surf, but then John will fake like he has a leg cramp. Then they'll paddle back in and nobody will be any wiser. "How does that sound to you, John?" Butchie asks. "That sounds, Butchie," John says. It certainly does, weirdo. It certainly does.