Jesse's car is in serious fucked-ups-ville, and the town's only mechanic, Kyle "Baby You Can Drive My Car, Yes I'm Gonna Be A Star, Baby You Can Drive My Car, And Baby I Love You" Valenti, is the only one who can fix it. Or at least tell Jesse what's wrong. Broken something or other. And that's his professional opinion. Jesse mumbles something about hating not having a car, which is the most elegant segue the "writers" could find for Kyle to shoot back, "How are things going with Isabel?" Jesse simply offers a "fine," and Kyle tells him that if he ever needs someone to talk to, he's there. Awwwwww. Jesse takes it in stride, answering back, "That seems to be a popular sentiment around here." In this annoying little community where people actually try and be your friend. How dare they? What's that? My contract says I don't have to recap any more scenes that have Jesse in them? Kick ass. Except to tell you that two suited men jump out of an unmarked van and pull Jesse in. Kyle pretends to be concerned. The van drives off. I think this is a very important lesson about what happens to people who dare to dabble in the scourge of therapy. It also kills kittens, so they say.
And now, a repeat of the entire first season, with late-addition Jesse Ramirez playing the role of everyone from the first season. We're in a dark underground room of some kind with a metal table and two chairs. Jesse is tied up, yelling to no one, "You have no right to hold me here. Anything you found in there constitutes an illegal search and seizure." And, under his breath, "and that includes my copy of Man Hole. Which, uh, isn't mine anyway." One of the suited men walks threateningly around him, letting him know, "My name is Agent Burns, FBI. Last night a local therapist was threatened. Your therapist. You said your wife's family is involved in organized crime."
Dear FBI: there is no "White-Bred Losers Of Bland Suburbia Crime Family," okay? If you're in Roswell looking for the Mafia, you're about twenty-six states off the mark. I spent the first eighteen years of my life in Massapequa and I know more than you. Ask Gotti. Ask Gambino. Ask Joey and Mary-Jo. Never mind. I'll do it for you. I went to school with all of their kids. Love, Dan.
But Burns doesn't get the hint, and has to have it pointed out explicitly that "it was an analogy." Well, look at the big brain on Brad! An analogy! Isn't that like "honk honk" or "meow" and that sort of thing? Or not. Agent Burns turns the topic to "why you're really here" (thanks for soaking up three full minutes with why we're not really here, then). He produces a file for Jesse which explains Max's alien history, showing him documents of a lot of generic shots of people lying motionless and one of a bland-looking man who I actually thought was this Agent Burns guy but I guess isn't. Burns half-explains where this is half-going: "Careers have been destroyed because of Max Evans. People have died. Good people." Jesse asks why they've never arrested him, then, and Burns responds that they could never pin anything specific on him. What about the trail of dead people? Isn't that grounds for arresting in certain states now, Burnsy? Either way, Jesse is convinced. He leans in, asking conspiratorially, "How can I help?" Burns sneers a smile, because law and America are bad. And he wanted us to know.