Crashdown. Military Man and London Fog share a table, drinking chocolate shakes and defying the audience's ability to tell who they are or why. Maria approaches the table and asks to take their order, and London Fog orders up "a penne pasta with chicken and sun-dried tomatoes in a marinara sauce." Maria tells them that all they have is spaghetti. Doesn't she mean "Space Spaghetti"? London Fog creepily informs her, "That's not what I want," and Maria meets with the rejoinder, "What you want is the Olive Garden." When he's there, he's family. Lots of London Fog at the Olive Garden, I suspect. Military Man tells Maria to just get London Fog a fucking hamburger and be done with it already (or some "fuck"-free permutation of the aforementioned), getting on to the matter at hand once Maria ups and scoots: "Did you do it? Did you find anything in her hotel room? What about the helmet? Who gave it to her?" So many questions. London Fog drops Michael's name for the first time, and Military Man asks if she's sure Michael's their man. London Fog, small though he may be, exhibits significant brawn with the promise, "I will be. After I break a few of his fingers." Shut up, London Fog.
Maria, meanwhile, stands in the back, stewing: "Sun-dried tomatoes." Suddenly, Michael slams though the kitchen door and drags Maria into the back room, growling, "We need to talk." She responds to this manhandling with the weirdly synthetic "You should be slapped," and turns around in the back room to note Max, Liz, and BoyTess staring at this exchange. She's introduced to BoyTess, and we're treated again to the entire story of this episode thus far. Liz notes through the window that Military Man and London Fog are leaving. Maybe that's because someone ordered a hamburger in a restaurant without a chef. I'm just sayin'. Max and Michael enjoy yet another private confab walking back into the dining room, in which Max asks, "Do you really think there's a ship mixed up in all of this?" Michael throws out, "I'm not sure, but I'm not sure it's important." "That what is?" "Doing the right thing." Thank you, one-man walking Justice League. Nice concession to the action of "we'll resolve the plot, just as soon as one happens to wander across our path." Max frets that, if they get too involved, they "may have to kill him," though I don't have the vaguest clue as to who the "him" is. Michael notes some novelty alien masks sitting on the counter in the Crashdown and notes, "I got a better idea." Than death? And yet I'm still relatively sure that that's not true.