Kate is the first one to speak. "So you're saying the dog was your sister?" Locke looks at her and replies, "Well, that would be silly." Ha! He explains to an unexpectedly emotional-looking Sawyer that Locke's mother thought the dog was Jeannie, "come back to tell her the accident wasn't her fault. Let her off the hook." Sawyer looks like he's just had an epiphany. Luckily for us, he's about to go into flashback so we can see what Locke's story has to do with the rest of the episode.
Cut to Sawyer getting out and walking over to the shrimp truck that contains the man Hibbs claims is the Original Sawyer. Sawyer walks up, and Frank Duckett asks if he wants the shrimp with the hot sauce or the mild sauce. Sawyer eventually whispers that he'll go with the hot. As Duckett prepares the dish, Sawyer pulls out the gun and nervously fidgets with it. Duckett amiably chatters, and gives him half-price for being American. We see Sawyer's gun-wielding hand begin to shake. Duckett introduces himself as Frank; Sawyer chokes out that his name is James. He's on the verge of tears. Duckett turns around to give him the shrimp, but the counter's empty and Sawyer's tearing away in his car.
Evidently, Sawyer headed to a bar. He's knocking back shots, and after the bartender asks if maybe he's not so sure about that, Sawyer insists, "Again." "You tell him, cowboy," slurs another American in the bar. Hey, it's the senior Dr. Shepherd. The good doctor slurs, "These bastards think Americans can't hold their liquor. Look...I, uh, hate to hold my hand out, but I seem to have misplaced my wallet." Sawyer sullenly orders the bartender to accommodate drunken Dr. Shepherd. The doc returns the favor: "I drink to you. What's your name, cowboy?" Sawyer mutters his last name. And Dr. Shepherd toasts him with, "Sawyer...may he find whatever he's looking for at the bottom of a glass." After a little more small talk, Dr. Shepherd asks rhetorically, "You know why they call Australia 'Down Under,' don't you? Because it's as close as you can get to Hell without being burned." Sawyer gets the bottle of whatever he's drinking from the bartender, and Dr. Shepherd sidles over to cadge a few more drinks.
Sawyer asks what Dr. Shepherd does, and he says over his shot, "I was a...chief of surgery." Sawyer looks at him and asks, not unkindly, "Was?" Yep. And then Sawyer decides it's better to humor the drunk and asks, "So we're in Hell, huh?" "Don't let the air conditioning fool you, son. You're in here too. You are suffering," Dr. Shepherd says to his new confidante. Sawyer's miserable look is all the confirmation the good doctor needs. He continues jovially, "But! Don't beat yourself up about it. It's fate. Some people are just supposed to suffer. That's why the Red Sox will never win the damn series." Sawyer looks over, and his expression says volumes, namely, Oh, Christ. As I weren't already torn up over the prospect of murdering my bete noir, now I've got to share a bottle with a Boston fan? Kill me now. Dr. Shepherd downs his drink, then says, "I have...a son. He's about your age. He's not like me. He does what's in his heart. He's a good man. Maybe a great one. And right now, he thinks that I hate him. He thinks that I feel betrayed by him. But what I really feel...is gratitude. And pride...because of what he did to me. What he did for me. It took more courage than I had. There's a pay phone over here. I could pick it up and I could call my son. I could tell him about all this. I could tell him that I love him. One simple phone call and I could fix everything." Sawyer wants to know, "Then why don't you?" Dr. Shepherd's reply is simple: "Because I am weak. This, uh, this business that you have. Will it ease your suffering?" "Yeah," says Sawyer reluctantly. "Then what are you doing here?" Dr. Shepherd shoots back, because it's always easier to address someone else's problems than it is your own. Sawyer says it's not that simple, and Dr. Shepherd insists, "Of course it is. Unless you wanna end up like me, of course it is." Sawyer continues to look miserable.
Sawyer returns to the shrimp stand. Naturally, it's a rainy night. Ever notice that nobody does nefarious deeds on a balmy summer evening? Sawyer watches Duckett clean up, and looks appropriately murderous as he waits in his car.