Jim tries to play the "my powerful lawyer" card, but Pawn all but reaches into Jim's trash bag and pulls out a tossed-away bag of "Cliché-i-os," reminding us with a message from the nutrition facts box that "Cliché-i-os contain less than two percent of the USDA daily recommended dose of intriguing and/or non-repetitive dialogue." She reminds Jim that Sloman is a very powerful member of the AARP, and puts too fine a point on it with the threat, "Don't be surprised if your videotaped confession shows up on the six o'clock news." Jim Walkens his way through the grinds of an empty canister of "Chock Full o' Ellipses," stopping and stalling like a gas guzzling Model T with a kid in the trunk: "And you…think you…can bring him down. This psychotic…criminal…this gun-toting maniac." Choose your words with care, Prufrock; you're running out of clever ways to audition for other shows with them. We learn that the deal goes down at 2 PM, and Pawn indicates that Prufrock's presence will be beneficial for the sting because Sloman "will be going in with his guard down" (wha?). But Prufrock cocks the gun in the first act to go off in the third (except for the part where it's not Sloman's gun that goes off and technically it's the fourth act and oh god why can't I just stop talking already?) with the reminder that Sloman will be going in "fully loaded." "So will I," comforts Pawn. "So will my partner," she adds, cashing in the five-cent bottle deposit on an empty case of Continuity Cola. Unless her "partner" shows up in the form of a six-foot-tall rabbit that only she can see, I'd like to know where this guy has been hiding while she's been fronting at the sheriff's station for who knows how long. Maybe he could fill in for a while. His southern accent's gotta be better than hers.

But what hither comes from Krazyland? Why, it's ShadJackBlack, pushing his Kart Of Krazy down the dusty highway, the sound of a monkey organ grinder playing that "doot doot doodle-oodle oot doot doot doot" Circus Theme Song the only thing not reminding us of ShadJackBlack's level of Krazy. Pawn looks at him in a way that indicates she kind of hears the song anyway -- maybe her "partner" is standing nearby, humming a few bars in her ear -- and smiles, "Crazy old man." Oh, and he's old like you're southern, Pawn. If they wanted someone old, they should have cast someone old. Pawn turns back to Jim and brings him out of that world where "insane" and "membrane" always have to rhyme, with an accompanying funky beat and maybe a guy somewhere wearing a big-ass clock around his neck, refocusing his attention on her by producing a handkerchief with a map on it and handing it to him. Jim experiences an explanatory set of flashbacks: he's handing a handkerchief to Taudrey at Silas Bodnick's funeral, and he's finding the handkerchief inside his car and discovering for the first time the map to Demonhead Flats. She hands it to him and explains, "Gaines [who?] asked me to destroy this, because if anybody around here figured out who drew this map, it would exonerate you." I don't know why that is. I also don't know why Prufrock's presence would cause Sloman to let his "guard down." I don't know why Mary was commissioned to frame Prufrock in such a convoluted way when that was back when they could have had him killed (as they did everyone else in town that week) without the authorities (who are all in Sloman's hip pocket anyway, so who cares, right?) being any the wiser. I don't know how a show gets off as calling itself "cancelled" when the very living definition of a cancelled show is "not currently airing on my television set ever, ever again." I don't understand any of those things. But this episode is kind of rollicking along so far, so we'll let it go for now. Pawn actually falls back on that faulty logic, "Why would I give this to you if I weren't on your side?" Wow -- I knew television production required a lead time long enough that this episode might have been shot several months ago, but I was unaware this show was in production before Psych 101 was invented. But Jim takes the bait and the handkerchief as well, as ShadJackBlack shuffles up next to them and mutters insanely (OR IS IT?), "Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to drink." Shut up, ShadJackBlack. But he doesn't, preferring to Mother Goose the plot into action with his patented brand of Krazy. Fine. But if he asks me whether or not Fuzzy Wuzzy was or was not fuzzy, that Bible's going in the toilet bowl. ShadJackBlack then beseeches, "Don't just look, Prufrock. See." Clearly, he's traded his Bible for a copy of Dianetics. Man. They're everywhere.