The Swooping Jets of Flash-Forwards bring us to the present, where Jack is waking up on the bottom bunk of Dharma Central. He wearily gets up and walks through the compound and realizes that the place is empty. He calls out for Locke and gets some groaning in response. Jack follows the sound and finds Locke passed out in the gun room. Michael shows up and cocks a rifle in Jack's direction. Jack's all, uh, what the? And Michael's all, I'MGOINGAFTERMYSON. I'MGOINGAFTERMYSONYOUCAN'TSTOPME. ALSOI'MALOONEYTUNES. "You gonna shoot me, Michael?" Jack shouts. Michael seems to think about this for a minute as his eyes do the Dance of the Demented. "No!" he suddenly shouts. "But I'll shoot yer damn computer!" Uh-oh. He means business. "That thing isn't what you think it is anyway," he continues. "You don't understand, man. You don't have ANY idea!" Oh, I think he has an idea, Michael. I think he has an idea that if crazy were a kingdom, you'd be wearing a crown right about now. Jack tries to reason with Michael, telling him they'll do this together, but Michael's having none of it and he says he has to do this alone. Jack finally shuts up and Michael slams the door, taking us to the Floating Words of Lostedness.

After the break, Jack asks Locke how he's feeling and Locke's like, I feel like runnin' a marathon barefoot in 90-degree heat, jackass, how do you think I feel? My head hurts! After filling him in on Michael's plans to rescue Walt, Jack asks Locke to give him a boost up to the air shaft so they can get the hell out of there. Locke says it won't do him any good because he bolted it shut from the inside. "No point changing the combination if you can just get in through the air vent," says Locke. "That's really good thinking, John," snits Jack, his voice soaked in sarcasm. Actually, that really IS good thinking, Jack O'Sarcasm. Why not bring it down a notch, there, smart-ass. "Wanna tell me why you let Michael in here?" asks Jack. Good point. "Uh, he wanted a gun," says Locke. Well, obviously. It's not like he wanted a Twinkie. "For shooting practice," continues Locke. "Shooting practice," Jack repeats back at him incredulously. And Locke kind of hilariously rubs his face like, "Yeaaaaaah. Not such a good idea, you know, in hindsight."