A slo-mo shot of Taudrey in her room at Martha's finds her packing a suitcase. Floating across the alley (did he specifically request a room with a whore-facing view, because those can be very expensive for a man who doesn't appear to be employed anymore), we find Jim asleep on his bed, not doing a thing to undo his "shiftless layabout" status with Martha, who I think was briefly his mom for a minute a few days ago, though that plot line seems to have been unceremoniously dropped. Jim is having a dream about his childhood in the Eisenhower Administration, where his parents are having a fight and Li'l Jim watches. His mother nurses a drink and looks put-upon, and Jim surreptitiously (which actually means "in plain sight of two parents") grabs a set of keys off of a hook and shuts himself in the trunk of the family car. His father gets in the car and drives off, and Jim wakes up with a start to hear a rhythmic banging on the door. It's Martha, letting him know, "You have a delivery." Behind him appears ShadJackBlack, delivering the sculpture he promised to build for Jim. He stands at the door, appearing to wait for compensation of some kind, but his unwillingness to leave comes from his having "to install it." I remember Jim's look from my days of selling Passover cookies door-to-door for my Hebrew school, and after they pay you money just to go away, you show up a few days later with a box of something called "CarobPops" and they wish beyond wishes that you would only go away, or turn them into Thin Mints. You know that look? That's the look.
Temporarily Repurposed Set Of Sloman's Slow-Dance Bar. Grace tells a sad-looking heavyset man, "Thanks for meeting me. It's been a while." He remembers, "Since the technical institute at least." Ah. And he got his advanced degree in gun repair, I guess, while Grace went in for her correspondence course training in the field of "generally kicking the ass of everyone and everything around her." Banter about how he called her and it appears she gave him the wrong number, but she cuts to it and tells him she needs "background information about a couple of people." He says he'll do if he can have her number…"your real number." That's right, Anthony Michael Hall…girl's underpants.
ShadJackBlack installs the sculpture in Jim's room, ranting purposelessly all the while. Jim tries questioning him: "I heard you were the town's comptroller." Good God, man. An IRS Agent, a Treasury official, a comptroller. All they need now is a coroner and the state's head librarian, and their crime-fighting band of loser civil servants no one's sure if they vote for or what they do when they get there will be complete. Jim digs up more of the past, telling ShadJackBlack, "I heard about your family. I'm sorry. I lost my father when I was very young." Because what it's all about is his pain. ShadJackBlack has "finished," and we get our first good view of the sculpture. It's mostly a wrought-iron-based framework with accoutrements such as red Christmas lights, fuzzy dice, and a bobbing gun pointing accusingly in Jim's direction. ShadJackBlack whispers to Jim, "It all has meaning, you know." ShadJackBlack leaves. Enjoy your plain macaroons, Mr. Prufrock. And share them with your boss…they're Parve!
The Three Product-Placed Ross-Dress-For-Less Suit-Wearers Of The Apocalypse drive down a dusty desert path in their shiny black cars. One goes so far as to exposit aloud, "Where would Shadrack hide a Bible?" as they walk into his ramshackle hut under cover of day. Flashing back to Jim, we find him drawing a rudimentary map of conspiracies in Push, topping a tree diagram with BRB's name and leading that with an arrow to another box, inside of which is written Versailles Casino. Really, it's just a vamp so we can pan down to the bottom of the sculpture, in which is hidden the Bible. Which, when you think about it, is just like laser tag.