Boone and Locke are traipsing through the jungle, with Locke saying that maybe he mentioned Theresa's name one time by the hatch, and Locke's all, "Maybe, but you didn't." He stops to check his compass for a moment. I thought he gave that to Sayid because he's mystical jungle man who has no need of compasses? They continue on again, but Locke stumbles again, making Boone ask what's wrong with Locke's legs. Locke says "nothing," and struggles to his feet. Then he spies something on a tree behind Boone. There, looped on a branch, is a rosary, albeit one that looks a lot shorter than I remember from my days surviving Catholic school. He and Boone examine it. "Someone from camp hiked all the way out here?" says Boone. Locke's looking up in the trees. "Nope," he says. Boone asks where he thinks the rosary came from, and Locke yanks on a rope, causing a mouldy, mostly decomposed body to tumble down from the treetops. "Him," says Locke. Some cool, gross millipede-type thing crawls from the skull's mouth. Nice!
Locke pulls up to the gate and Cooper's place, and he's now on a first-name basis with the guard, Eddie, who asks if they're going to get some more birds today, and Locke excitedly says, "Sure hope so!" sounding for all the world like an eight-year-old excited at the prospect of hunting frogs at the pond.
Inside, Locke walks in on Cooper hooked up to a dialysis machine, being tended to by a nurse. Cooper says he wasn't expecting Locke until noon. "I thought you said eleven," says Locke, and Cooper pretends (oh come on, I'm giving nothing away. It was obvious) that he didn't want Locke to see this. Cooper's kidneys are failing. "Damn doctors say I need a transplant," says Cooper. Yeah, damn doctors, urging him to get a working kidney! Locke asks when he needs one. "Tomorrow, if it were up to me," says Cooper, who says he's on a waiting list, but he's an old man and it's a long list. He adds that dialysis is fine for a while, and he didn't want to put a downer on their day of shooting birds for sport. Locke looks distressed, and seems to be the only one who can't see what's coming down the pike.
Back on Craphole Island, Boone and Locke are looting the dead guy, who, judging from the white collar thingy around his neck -- which you'd think I'd know the name of, being a good Catholic and all -- was a priest. Fortunately Locke is an expert on how quickly clothes decay, but with the good quality polyester the priest is wearing, he could have died anywhere from two to ten years ago. Locke notes the priest's gold teeth. Must have been well off. And he pulls a wad of strange currency from the priest's pocket. Boone asks what kind of money it is, and, again fortunately, Locke is an expert on international money, and he says it's Nigerian naira. Boone wonders what the hell a Nigerian priest is doing on an island in the South Pacific, but Locke's next discovery, a loaded automatic pistol, suggests that this guy wasn't a priest at all. I happen to think a gun would be a rather effective tool for a priest. Shit, I'd have confessed everything to a priest with a gun.