A qu-qu-qu-quick shot of the two men at Pyre For Hire watching C-C-C-Caleb M-M-M-Moore not b-b-b-burning dissolves to a cock-eyed shot of a people-less room where a funeral service recently seems to have taken place. We're dumped finally back outside, where Shadrack The Entertainer wanders, pushing his Loony Bin. He is soon to be accosted by Pyre For Hire, who get right in his face and ask, "What you got in the bags?" Um, chicken bones and an empty flask? People, he's homeless and crazy. Stop wasting your time. Shadrack The Entertainer cracks open a bag, and the Bible from the first act goes off in the second. With a shaking hand, he brandishes it at Pyre For Hire, speaking just at a mutter but not quite at a mumble, "Behold the Word of the Lord." Pyre For Hire exchange glances as if to say, "Who knew this hairy, homeless, wandering wastrel was going to turn out so crazy!"
The Three Product-Placed Ross-Dress-For-Less Suit-Wearers Of The Apocalypse sit in more or less the same position on folding chairs in a typically chrome-drenched room. A fourth man, sitting at a computer, authoritatively turns and informs the men, "There is nothing in the master database that makes any reference to a Bible. Nothing." Guy #1 (very original, I know, but I told you the other one was a stupid nickname, okay? Jeez. Stop looking at me, swan) doesn't bother to pause before asking the computer guy, "Where'd you go to school?" Tech Guy reels off his dossier like he's been aching to tell someone all day: "Yale. And then Wharton." Woo hoo! Yale! I heard on NPR the other morning that they have, like, really kick-ass a cappella groups. Did anyone else hear that? I wonder if this guy did a cappella. Sadly, though, that's not their next question for him, as they third-degree on, "How long you been with us?" Ten months. Guy #1 has it figured all out, instructing Tech Guy to stop filling his mind with Yale a cappella and "play the Bodnick intercept we pulled from the car." On the recording, Bodnick and a woman I'm sure is Taudrey exchange words which ends with Bodnick barking, "Baby, I think this book is more than insurance. It could be a mother lode." Guy #1 gets homosexually close to Tech Guy's ear and whispers patronizingly, "A book that could be the mother lode. Book. Bible. Book. Bible." I'm sure Tech Guy really appreciates this 3-2-1 Contact approach to on-the-job training. Guy #1: "It's a simple connection, Wharton." First, step off the nicknames, Guy #1. And, second, c'mon. He could have been talking about any book. Who's to say it wasn't the latest issue of Archie Comic Digest? Or a copy of Learning to Fly: The Autobiography of Posh Spice that might have been the so-called mother lode? Wait. How sad is it that I just looked around my room for examples of books that aren't the Lord's word and those are the first two I saw? If you get near my head and listen really closely, you can actually hear my brain slowly rotting. But seriously. Poor Posh. She's been through everything.
Jim's back at the microfiche again, poring over articles from Push Times, including one that showed up in the credits tonight that flatly states in the headline, "Oranges Everywhere." Cut. Move. Micro. Fiche. Jim stares in at a photo including a man with -- sing it with me if you've got the refrain memorized -- a serpent tattoo on his forearm. Ta-da!