We the viewers at home get the answer in the form of a scene change to Regina at Mr. Gold's shop. "You broke our deal," she says to Gold. "I broke one deal in my life, dear," he says, "and it certainly wasn't this one." They kind of have the same haircut, except Regina spends a little more time in front of the mirror every morning. She fusses because Kathryn was supposed to die and Mary Margaret was supposed to get the blame. Gold points out that murder seems much worse here: "You can't just turn someone into a snail and then step on them, can you?" He seems quite pleased with himself as Regina's annoyance grows. "You didn't say 'kill' her," he reminds her. You'd think that as long as she's known him, she would know to be more specific with the legalese. They had agreed, he goes on, that something tragic would happen to Kathryn. "Abduction is tragic," he says. She tries to argue technicalities with him, but his good mood vanishes as palpably as a cold wind blowing out a fire. For a moment, Regina seems a little bit afraid of him. She drops the argument, but points out that the situation will raise questions about who took her and faked the tests. Also, Gold put Regina's key in Mary Margaret's cell, which he mentions with the scariest hint of a smile. Regina pales. "It's all going to lead to me, isn't it?" she asks. "You bastard!" But she's a little bit confused, because they've been working together from the start. He scoffs at that idea. Methinks Rumpy's been working for himself from the start, lady. She asks him why he would have created the curse that brought them all here. He gets all up in her grill and says, very quietly, "You're a smart woman, Your Majesty. Figure it out." It is on.
Fairy Tale Land. In a muddy little farming village, groups of children play together. One boy, alone, bounces a ball off the side of a house. When the ball goes astray, the boy chases after it and falls headlong into the road. He narrowly avoids being run over by a donkey-drawn cart full of chickens. "Hey!" says the angry chicken farmer holding the donkey's reins. "What are you doing in the middle of the road?" The boy tries to hobble away from him, but the man follows. "I'm sorry," the boy says, turning his mop-top head to look at the farmer. It's Baelfire. The farmer, now recognizing him, can't apologize quickly enough. He blames the near-accident on the donkey. Ass. Baelfire's like, "No, no, it was all me! I couldn't see where I was going through my sheepdog bangs!" By then, the rest of the village folk have gathered around. Rumplestiltskin walks towards them, asking, "What's going on?" Again the farmer tries to take the blame, but Rumplestiltskin doesn't look convinced. "I'm fine, Papa, really," Baelfire says, stepping between his father and the doomed farmer. That's when Rumplestiltskin notices the bloody scrape on his son's knee and loses his magical shit. With a wave of his purple, glowing hand, he transforms the farmer into a snail. Baelfire pleads with his father, but it's no use. Rumplestiltskin squashes the snail beneath the heel of his boot. The villagers gasp and scurry away. Baelfire looks sad. What's going to become of the donkey and chickens?