Elsewhere, Kai knocks on the front door of someone we've never met before who is called Janie. She and Kai seem to know each other, as they hug. They also seem to speak one of those special languages that only twins can understand. "Good or bad?" Janie asks Kai. "Good," Kai says. "Everything's good." Janie's expression -- which only we home viewers can see -- suggests she is not buying this, but she's willing to play along. "Good enough to get his boards out of storage?" Janie asks. Indeed, that's why Kai is paying a visit to this character we've never met before and probably won't clap eyes on again.
I don't know about you, but I attend a lot of conferences and get-togethers. And 90% of them are held in the kind of soul-killing hotel meeting room where Linc is now holding court. You've got those terrible folding tables with the metal bars that all adults over four feet tall will bump their knees into for the entire meeting and those stiff-backed chairs you're expected to sit into for hours at a time watching PowerPoint slide after PowerPoint slide. Dreadful. Perhaps the most disturbing thing John From Cincinnati has ever dealt with, and this is a show in which a drugged-out surfer mom helped her teenage son jerk off. Anyhow, Linc is hosting a meeting of his Stinkweed cohorts. He asks if anyone's ever been to Imperial Beach before -- "funky little beach town," he says. "A lot of history for our sport." Nobody raises their hand. Linc's shoulders slump noticeably, as if to say, fuck this noise. He sees a hotel waiter setting up the breakfast spread of days-old fruit and stale, indigestible muffins -- yes, Mr. Sobell goes to a lot of these things -- and tells him to spread the bounty around to anyone wandering the antiseptic halls. One of Linc's associates -- Zack Morris his own bad self -- rolls his eyes at Linc's antics. Anyhow, there is much business argle-bargle -- if you're interested in the balance sheet of this made-up company, I'm sure you can write a letter to David Milch, and he'll send you a Stinkweed 10-K -- and Linc looks as bored with all this as I am. "Break," Linc mutters, before Joss Whedon's kid brother can continue to bore us into a stupor with P&L figures. He stalks out of the room, with Zack Morris following closely behind him, doubtlessly to tell him about Screech's latest get-rich-quick scheme.