Speaking of Keith, and cosmic bad luck, we're back at the shop currently known as Keith Scott Auto Body, where some "new" guy rolls a dolly full of crap inside. Keith wants to know what the hell it is; the guy tells him it's the new "equipment." Speaking of what-the-hell, Dan's there carrying a life-sized cardboard cut out of, wait for it, himself. It's a man made in his own image. Although the head's disproportionate -- it should really be the size of Canada, Dan's ego is that big. They've whitewashed the entire inside of the garage; it looks completely different. So much for Keith "being his own boss" and Dan being a "silent" partner. As the dolly rolls by, Dan snarks, "Hey, don't let this guy get away with half days just 'cause he's related to the boss." Which means what exactly? Because Keith's at work, and it doesn't look like he's leaving anytime soon. Oh. Good. Grief. Keith's wearing a "DSM" jumpsuit/coveralls. He must feel like such an asshat. He sees the cardboard Dan and jokes, "Oh, gawd, I thought one of you was bad enough." Dan tells Keith the jumpsuit looks good on him. Ew. He continues, "How's your day going." Out comes the laundry list of the hard knock life: "Well, let's see, you changed my sign, you made me wear this monkey suit, and you're replacing all my equipment. What's next? You want me to start fixing bicycles too?" Dan snarks, "If it would turn a profit." Blah Keith equipment was obsolete, blah stuck in 1982, blah old school, fixing old cars. Keith insists that the machines were fine. Dan argues, "They don't work as good as the new ones. Now I told you I was going to help you with your shop. This is part of the agreement. You've got to start thinking like a businessman, bro." Keith snips, "I think you do enough of that for the both of us." Pause. "Bro." Then he walks away. Man, Keith's cosmic ass has had just about as much kicking as it can take these days.
Down at the River Court, Nathan and Luke attempt to practice together. The These Brothers Don't Get Along Soundtrack plays in the background. Nathan shoots the ball. Luke runs underneath the ball, grabs it, and tosses it back to his brother. Nathan snits, "Whitey wants you to feel a part of the team, fine, I just don't understand why I have to babysit you." Luke says calmly, "He just wants to make sure you can get open." Nathan reminds Luke cockily that he doesn't have a problem getting open. Luke says, "Well, you will without me in the line." He continues, "The fade-away is a great shot for creating space. You want to work on it, or what?" Nathan pouts, "I don't need to work on it." Luke insists. Of course, Nathan tries it, Luke blocks the crap out of him, and he misses. Nathan looks grumpy. But only for a second, because his gene that insists he show off takes over: "I'll tell you what, I'll hit your fade-away when you can do this." Nathan dribbles between his legs, bounces the ball, does a running jump shot, and finishes it off by slamming the ball through the net. Luke says patiently, "Nathan, the point is that you're not going to be able to do that anymore." Nathan snots, "Excuse me?" Luke explains, "You won't be able to get to the rack like that when you're double-teamed." And goodness knows he needs to be able to get to the "rack" with the "rock." What? Are the terms "ball" and "net" as obsolete as Keith's 1982 specials? Nathan doesn't take to constructive criticism kindly. He walks off the court saying, "I don't need your coaching. Just watch me get to the rack this weekend."