In all this time, Cissy has only now stormed her way to the clubhouse, which is where Mitch apparently retreats, cursing all the while about his inner sanctum. It is hard not to sympathize with Mitch, whose only mistake here appears to be building his hideaway where Cissy could find it, rather than in a more obscure location, like maybe Mars. "Why would you think you've got brain cancer?" Cissy demands, once she's through cursing at Mitch. Yeah. Was it some sort of diagnosis from your physician? Did you look it up on WebMD? Nah -- it's that whole levitation thing. Mitch chalks up it up to a hallucination brought on by a brain tumor. Cissy posits that it could have been brought on by an ear infection. I'm pretty sure that levitating isn't actually a symptom of swimmer's ear. Are, like, trained medical professionals with reputable backgrounds the mortal enemies of surfers or something? Because this seems like a thing you'd see a doctor about. Anyhow, there's a lot more cursing and carrying on and arguing about Shaun competing in the surfing competition, and it's all very tiresome twenty-five minutes into this show's run. Let's just bottom-line it here and say that Cissy thinks Mitch is holding Shaun back because of a knee injury he suffered back when he was young and immortal, and that Mitch counters that his leg nearly got amputated, thank you very much. And then they have sex. Angry sex. Probably punctuated by a lot of cursing.
Back at the motel, Butchie is hanging up the phone. It appears that he has just learned that Upbeat Morrissey is not a drug mule or, if he is, he does not happen to be employed by the drug cartel that supplies Butchie with his Sweet Lady H. That $2,300? Just a harmless coincidence -- or is it? Anyhow, Butchie wants answers; boy, is he talking to the wrong character for that. "Empty your pockets, bra, so we don't start not getting along," Butchie orders. "All right, show me something with your name on it." The magic pockets happily oblige -- this time, Upbeat Morrissey produces a platinum card. Apparently, his name is John, since that's what Butchie starts calling him, though I was sort of getting used to calling him Upbeat Morrissey. Ah, well. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that he's also from Cincinnati, though it probably doesn't say that on the credit card.













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