Warning: There will be no goddamn nudity this week.
Prevously, on Blue, Lt. Abner (Baldwin's old boss) told Fancy that he didn't think Baldwin "was ready to look out at the world through [his] window." Fancy didn't really know what that meant either.
Fancy walks into a noisy (but not too gritty) NYC coffee shop. He walks over to the booth where Lt. Abner is sitting and says, "Morning." Lt. Abner looks up and says, "When are you ever going to call me 'Joe'?" Fancy sits down with a small smile and says, "I used to when we were cops." Lt. Abner says, "Well, when are you going to call me 'Joe' again?" Fancy smiles and says "Joe." Lt. Abner holds up his coffee and says, "Joe. Coffee. Joe." Sure, and that's a napkin holder, and over there is silverware. Fancy starts to look perturbed, but Lt. Abner continues speaking. "Got your messages. I had to get things settled in my head It's the uncertainty that draws you in...the unclarity." Fancy shakes his head to get rid of the "unclarity" and says, as lightly as possible, "You're talking to a country boy, Joe. You need to talk down to me...make sure I get your meaning." Translation: What the hell are you talking about? Lt. Abner continues being super-obtuse: "Our differences are a product of our sameness. I only called you a go-along-to-get-along-Negro because of them." Fancy takes a deep breath and comes out with it: "I'm worried about you. What are your plans? Your intentions?" And are you nuttier than or as nutty as a fruitcake? Lt. Abner says, "I filed my retirement papers yesterday. I'm going to take a vacation. Trinidad, Tobago." Fancy looks at him real hard until Lt. Abner says, "You want to see my flight number?" Fancy shoots back, "You got it?" Lt. Abner throws some money on the table and prepares to leave: "Tell Baldwin goodbye for me. Tell him he's in good hands. You'll convey my message for me?" Fancy's still sitting there, completely bamboozled: "Yeah, I'll tell him. Be well." Lt. Abner says, "Take care." YOU take care, Lt. Abner!
Woosh! That's the subway/credits/theme song roaring toward you. Bloosh! That's a noise I made up that sounds like a subway if a keyboard had a subway sound programmed into it.
Right off the bat, we see a dead body lying on the floor in as bar. It seems like a cool bar, though. I'd go on nights when dead bodies aren't there. Sip cruises in and says, "I'll see if they've got Jerry Vale on the jukebox." Whoa. I'VE never even heard of Jerry Vale! Who the hell is Jerry Vale? Sip, I beg you, get into the seventies, at LEAST. This fifties shit is killing me. We learn that the DOA is Patrick Muldoon ["not the one who's dating Denise Richards and used to be on Melrose Place, I assume" -- Wing Chun] (Happy belated St. Paddy's Day, everyone!) and his name, along with that of David Lorenz, is on the liquor license. Ricky hands the gun to a uniformed cop for processing, and Sip charges over to the sap who found the body. He's a grizzled-looking bartender in a red vest, cleaning bottles. The guy is totally expressionless and uncommunicative until Sip raises his voice and threatens to bring him downtown to get his Ghouliani on. The bartender snaps, "At present I am minding my own business! There's my other boss -- ask him." Sip shoots the bartender an evil look and goes to talk to the other boss, who's sunk into a chair, stunned at seeing his partner dead on the floor: "Oh, Jesus. That's my partner, dead on the floor." See? "He had such zest. Your loss, not knowing Pat." Um, okay.