Turns out Jimmy Clifton didn't murder Steve because he's already had two or three convictions for like manslaughter, and he did five years for fucking up his own dad over an '87 Monte Carlo with 200K miles. So that's Jimmy Clifton. So Steve is doomed.
"Up the wooden hill," Fiona trills, taking a beer out of Carl's hand and ushering the kids out. Kevin grins at Steve -- "Let me take one last look at you while you're still alive" -- and the neighbors head home. Out on the street, Steve's car is something impressive. When Kev asks the deal, Veronica spins him a whole story about how Steve dropped out of high school and became a janitor at a dotcom startup and within a year he owned it. "Made his first billion by twenty. Two Jags, controlling interest in the Red Wings, 10,000 employees kissing his ass. Yes boss, No boss. Why shouldn't he ride around in style?"
Kevin finally figures out that she's fucking with him, and they have a fight that makes more sense in British -- "Take back dumb prick!" -- but Veronica is hilarious about it: "Hi, nice to meet you, I'm Veronica. What's your pre-tax income?" Kev changes to how Steve was half-naked when he came in, and Veronica explains that if he hadn't shown up, Fiona and Veronica were going to tag-team him. This finally resets Kev's brains and he starts thinking about having sex with Veronica and Fiona at the same time. She laughs and slaps his ass and they go have their requisite huge amount of adventurous sex.
"All quiet up the wooden hill?" Steve asks, when Fiona comes back downstairs. Steve poses a lot of things in terms of quizzes and yes/no questions, like, if he hadn't busted ass for Fiona's purse, would she even have noticed him? She explains that she's still not said she's interested, so the question is moot, and then Steve is saddled with this impossibly contrived, over-rehearsed speech that makes no sense regardless of country of origin: "You know, 90% of the world's problems are caused by tiny words that come in pairs. I mean, we're healthy and we're happy, but when people ask, we say, Not bad. You know, the first time that I saw you dancing -- about a month back, at Crobar -- I was desperate to buy you a drink. You know, normally I'm shy, so I told myself: I can't. She won't. We wouldn't. And then tonight, I see you there again. All the indications being that I'm getting... A second chance to make a good impression."
Justin Chatwin is awesome and all, but that's the kind of bullshit they used to cram in his mouth on Weeds and it didn't work there either. Difference being, the whole time he's talking that smarmy nonsense he's been getting closer and closer and hotter and hotter and hasn't stopped looking in Fiona's eyes for one second. "Tell me to stop and I'll stop," he says, and she doesn't. He keeps telling her to go slower, but she can't. Pretty soon he can't either.