Sip tells Ricky about Memmet's sick wife. Poor guy, he says. "I know those hospital cafeterias." The horror! The cafeteria!
Medavoy is rattling on to Fancy about the "utterly minor fender bender." They didn't show it, Baldwin doesn't seem to care, so neither do I. Baldwin gets a call and goes downstairs to talk to whichever brazen hussy it is, damn her.
It's Nicole, of course. She's saying, "Look me in the eye, Baldwin." Don't look! You'll fall under her stupid spell! Baldwin says the body hasn't been identified yet. "So I go with what I got." So smugly, I want to smack her. Baldwin advises that "that's the short money." Nicole looks at him and says, "You'll give me an exclusive?" He says yes! "And help with a sidebar feature, my night on surveillance." No way. "How can I sweeten the pot?" What pot? The he's-just-doing-his-job-you-giant-hussy-so-stop-throwing-yourself-on-him-pot? That pot? Baldwin says the call ID-ing the body might be coming in now, and yeah, stop bugging Baldwin, Nicole! She asks, "Did you suffer personal injury?" No, but I'm becoming sick to my stomach. "I might have to conduct my own examination." NO YOU WILL NOT. Baldwin just smiles and says, "Wanna know a secret?" Please say "I'm gay." No such luck: "I don't like the music turned up so loud." Is that a nice way of saying 'stop throwing yourself on me, brazen hussy?' Too subtle. She says she has a 7pm deadline and will call him before that. As Baldwin goes in, Dino comes out of a car with two rain coat-wearing men.
Inside the pokey, Dino is holding forth to Ricky and Sip, who are practically holding their hands over their ears with boredom. "...The decline of a certain kind of life, Pete McGreeney epitomizes. He'd murder his wife and sleep on top of her." Ricky and Sip perk up at that. He dashes their hopes by saying, "It's a figure of speech!" No it isn't. They tell him about the fifty-gallon drum and he says, "That he could do." Blah blah blah, mob stuff murdercakes, and finally Sip says, "Why do I feel we're getting what Angela got last night?" And that would be screwed. Back to the feds, Dino. Ricky says, "Maybe our future's in pimping." Maybe it is.