At the Imperial Beach pier, we catch up with Zack Morris delivering the state-of-the-Stinkweed address to Linc. The good news: company's doing fine. The bad news: "You're the fucking mess." Long story short: the investors want Linc out of the company. And to hasten that departure, Zack Morris produces the tape of Tina outlining the nature of her fiduciary relationship with Linc. Oh yeah, Zack? Well, Linc will see that tape and raise you a tape of you offering a cash inducement to Tina to get her to fib. "Isn't that a felony in this state?" Linc asks. Check and mate, friend. So here's Linc's counteroffer: instead of leaving the company empty-handed or with a piddly $35 million payout, Linc would like $65 million. Zack Morris agrees, so long as that incriminating tape is handed over. Done and done. Linc hands the tape over to Zack Morris, who drops it off the pier into the Pacific, where it doubtlessly kills a sea lion. Boy, I hope Linc made a backup of that tape just so that we never have to deal with this go-nowhere storyline about Stinkweed's finances again. Linc meets up with Tina, recounts what we just saw happen with our eyes, and prepares for life as jobless multi-millionaire. "For a million, can I hold your hand?" he asks Tina. At those prices, you're going to run through that $65 million by next Thursday, Linc. "When I strike, it's going to be for the big money," Tina says. That was either very playful or very menacing, I'm not sure which.
Back at the Naval Radio Receiving Facility, where nobody says nothing and nothing ever happens, John is now standing there in a wetsuit instead of his usual tourist togs. He smiles enigmatically. In Cass's room, where movie footage is viewed over and over again, Cass is viewing footage over and over again. This time, though, there's drumming, and we continue to hear it, as we cut to Cissy, doing the dishes. "Cissy Yost," says a wetsuit-clad John, as he appears in her window. "Hey," Cissy says. "Captain Kirk. You were right about being more miserable." To be accurate, Cissy, he said you would feel just as miserable as before or worse -- it wasn't a certainty about being more miserable. But I'm splitting semantic hairs, because John has more to say: "Getting dusted won't be an issue," which is the same thing that Butchie said to Shaun a few scenes back during their glib father-and-son-go-surfing exchange. "Don't get hit by a bus," Cissy says insincerely. And the drumming continues.