Jesse and Isabel, finally alone in The Den of Porno. Isabel, exhausted, asks Jesse, "Are we okay?" He's got his speech at the ready, sans song quotes but not free of the paranoid messages encoded therein: "I don't know. I mean, I look at you and I know that I love you." Isabel covers her ass that she always knew he was going to figure it out anyway. What really concerns him isn't that she lied; it's that she was really, really good at lying. But she didn't lie. She never explicitly told him, "Hi. I am so not an alien who crawled out a gauzy, eggy pod chamber whereas people like you crawled out of a mommy." But Jesse feels he doesn't even know her anymore: "I married Isabel Evans. There is no Isabel Evans. Isabel is this person that you hide behind." Isabel tells him he's right about everything, but that she's "telling the truth when I say I love you." Jesse is not overly impressed. Isabel asks, "Where do we go from here?" Jesse ponders and volleys, "I have no idea."

I guess Liz fashioned a lime Jell-O ladder and climbed down to where Max fell, because all of a sudden she's next to him on the ground, kneeling over him. She turns him over and feels for a pulse, but he's an alien so maybe he has a normal 107 temperature and his heart is in his toes or something. But then Max goes all old-y face for two seconds and becomes Max (two full years younger!) again. He looks up at Liz: "You brought me back." She's keeping score: "I guess that makes us even." He's so sweaty that she practically slides right off him when they hug. Maria walks up then and asks, "What happened?" Liz looks up and has all the answers: "Let's go home." The three walk off, closing-credits-of-Three's Company-style, and I'm waiting for Max to grab Maria's arm when she starts to stray from the path. Fade. Credits. Circularity. Dude. This would have made the best last episode ever, ever.