Cue up the Steely Dan. "Do It Again" plays as a truck rumbles over the Texas border into Mexico. This cues up the Hey! These Guys are Very Successful Drug Dealers! Montage, complete with guys in cowboy hats carrying guns, piles of concealed cocaine, bandannas, fringed vests, and lots and lots of cash. Boxes of cash. A warehouse, just full of cash. A border guard looks bored as a truck sails past him and into Mexico. From this, we get a smash cut to the title, and a shot of Miguel, and then we go right into the next scene. That was weird. Were those supposed to be the credits? Because I know that NBC is running this episode with "limited commercial interruption" (words which strike fear into the hearts of recappers everywhere), but it really felt as though there should have been a commercial there.

Instead of the sweet relief of advertising, we get a long shot of the ocean. Bobby Cannavale -- best known as the Funky Spunk guy from Sex & the City and from his role on Third Watch -- stands forlornly on the deck of a very nice yacht and smokes. We find out very shortly that his name is Chato, and that's much easier to type than "Bobby Cannavale," so let's cut to the chase and just call him Chato. Chato tosses his cig into the water and goes inside. On the way to the kitchen, he passes a very scantily clad girl. He kisses her and tells her to find him after he eats.

Chato very crankily makes his way into the galley and starts complaining -- in a rather over-the-top accent -- about all the crappy fish he's had to eat on this damn boat. In addition to the accent -- which, thankfully, pretty much disappears after this one scene -- he's got a touch of what we used to call Kershitis when I recapped The X-Files: he keeps stressing words with no apparent reason whatsoever. "I'm never eating feesh again! No more damn feesh," he yelps. Behind him, the cook just looks depressed and unappreciated. Chato asks if "Tio Jorge" ate anything today. The cook monotones that Tio Jorge didn't eat yesterday, either. Apparently, the cook is very saddened by Chato's inability to appreciate all the good work he's done with seafood lately. Chato yells that Tio Jorge "has to eat," The cook is all, Tell him yourself, you spoiled brat. I slave over a hot stove for you for months at sea, and what do I get? COMPLAINTS. "I do! Tell him," Chato speak-yells. The cook just rolls his eyes and places a plate of fish in front of Chato. Chato looks down as the title credit, "Executive Producers: Aaron Spelling. E, Duke Vincent," flashes under his disgusted mug. Ah, Aaron Spelling and E. Duke Vincent! Sweet music to the ears of those of us who live for le fromage. Chato picks up the fish on his plate -- head and tail still attached -- and starts SPEAKING TO IT. Oh, people: this shit is going to be good. "You know something? I used to like feeesh," he announces, and throws the poor thing on the ground. Behind him, the cook tosses his dishcloth on the stove in frustration.