Commercials. Dear Neutrogena: Next time you want to sell skin care, try not to pick a teenager who looks like she was smoking a pack a day and tanning in the womb. Mischa Barton looks older than I do. I am not inspired to use your product if it makes me look like her.
When we return, Sawyer's picking through the debris in his little camp. Sayid comes over to gloat a little, and says skeptically, "Boar took your tarp?" Sawyer confirms that. Sayid's all, "I thought the boar left this area." Sawyer correctly points out that they must have gotten some bad info on that. Sayid wants to know what it was doing inside the tent. "Discussing the adaptation motifs in Watership Down -- we had a disagreement over whether trickery is a form of adaptive behavior and he went nuts," Sawyer responds. Oh, he did not. He tells Sayid that the boar was looking at him, and when it came at him, he hit it and it went running off into the jungle. "With your tarp," Sayid points out again. Pause. Then: "Perhaps he wanted to go camping." Sawyer asks if Sayid is enjoying himself, and Sayid smiles before saying that indeed, he is. Well, so am I.
Sawyer does not share our mirth. He grumbles, "Laugh it up, Muhammad. But I come back to find my stuff's gone, I'm coming after you." Sayid doesn't even bother to hide his amusement over how the one guy on the island who lives by the "possession is nine-tenths of the law" philosophy is now screwed by his own ethos. Sayid heads off, and Sawyer calls his name. Sayid turns around, the thought bubble over his head plainly reading, "He dropped the nickname. It must be serious." Sawyer comes over and asks what Sayid heard in the jungle. Sayid shrugs it off with, "I was injured and I was exhausted. My mind was playing tricks." Sawyer asks again and Sayid says that he thought he heard whispering. Sawyer asks what the whispering said, and Sayid ducks answering with, "Why? Did you hear something?" Sawyer backs down and lies that he didn't hear anything. As he stalks off, Sayid watches him with an expression that suggests he's but an orchestral intro away from breaking into song: "I don't know how to love him / what to do / how to move him / He calls me names / but they're just names…"
Sawyer walks off in slow motion, which is how we know he's about to go into flashback...and all of a sudden we're in a hotel room. Sawyer has just entered with a young woman attached to his face. Have you tried covering her in Vaseline? That helps ticks drop right off, I've found. It appears that Sawyer's fine with his new facial accessory. In fact, he'd like to stay the night. That's right when someone switches on the light, saying. "This is really awkward…" Well, that's one way to acknowledge the etiquette dilemmas surrounding any sort of unauthorized incursion in someone else's space. Anyway, it's Robert Patrick, or, as he's known here, "Hibbs." Sawyer ditches the skirt by sending her down to the bar, then heads back towards Hibbs. As Hibbs is buttering him up with, "I don't know how you manage it, Sawbucks, finding women that beautiful to work your grift," Sawyer demonstrates how he disdains flattery by slamming Hibbs into a wall. We quickly find out that Sawyer had promised to kill Hibbs if he ever set eyes on him again, and Hibbs claims he's just there to make things right. His idea of "making us even for the Tampa job" is to pass on "the known whereabouts of the man who ruined your life," i.e. passing on a photo and a location for the guy he claims is the Original Sawyer, a shrimp truck operator down in Sydney named Frank Duckett. We see the wheels turn in Sawyer's head.
And back in the present, Kate's turning in her gun and ammo to Jack. She asks if any of the other castaways are curious as to why there are now guns on the island, and Jack shrugs that everyone knew there was a marshal on the plane, and they all assumed from there. He's awfully surly with her. Kate asks if Jack got all the guns back, and he replies, "All except one." "Who?" she immediately wants to know. Jack rolls his eyes and invites her to take three guesses. "Boone? The hobbit guy? Hurley? Locke?" She asks. "Sorry, that's four guesses. Conversation over," Jack replies. Kidding! Kate doesn't make any guesses at all. She doesn't need to, because she's the most smartest, most prettiest, most usefullest girl ever on the island, so she just knows it's Sawyer. And to prove she's all that and a bag of boar jerky, Kate offers to get the gun back. Jack's all, "And how do you plan to do that?" "By putting out. I got needs, I'm not getting anywhere with you, so I might as well kill two birds with one stone," Kate replies. Or not. Kate claims, "I speak his language." Jack reminds her that "speak his language" is a euphemism for "suck on his lips." He's so disdainful of physical communication. Kate points out, "I only made out with him because torturing him didn't work." Sooner or later, someone on that island's going to realize that there's a middle ground between torture and tonsil hockey. Although perhaps Ethan should be grateful he died before Boone began whispering sweet nothings in his ear.