But here I am babbling to myself when there are larger issues to be dealt with -- specifically, those numbers Bobby scribbled down at the end of the last scene. Given the Internet's obsession with numbers on TV shows, it shouldn't surprise you at all to learn there are already numerous theories banging around out there, so I'll give you my favorite three: Either those numbers are coordinates to Beaver Lake in Lincoln County, Wisconsin, or they're a reference to the code for the chimpanzee genome, or they're the nomen number for a subspecies of caper, which some have argued is the secret ingredient in Biggerson's new, limited-time-only, and fantastically tasty Pepperjack Turducken Slammer. Since Bobby spent most of his last conscious moments looking at a bunch of maps in Mr. Roman's office, I'm going for option number one up there, but feel free to draw your own conclusions.

Now, where the hell was I? Oh, yes: This pointless scene. Bullet-Brained Bobby makes googly eyes at the shapely shapeshifter currently masquerading as his wife until thunder rumbles ominously overhead. "I don't remember a storm coming in the night this happened," Bobby frowns, heading over to the window to peer up at the cloudless sky, and as he watches, the stars wink out one by one, followed by the moon, which collapses in on itself to vanish from the sky. So, you know, we should add Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind to the list of things they're ripping off for this evening's main plot. Down in the foggy field below, a beflanneled youngster trots into view, audibly panting as he races towards the house Bobby's currently occupying while behind the kid, The Lush Coastal Rainforests Of Southeastern South Dakota slowly melt away into blackness. "Mother Mary," Bobby gapes. "I've got a messed-up fruitcake." And with that, we have entered the portion of this evening's festivities wherein everyone must slam down a triple shot of his or her favorite holiday-season liqueur every time Bobby spouts out some fake, cornponey-sounding bit of slang for the word "head." You should all be blotto by the second commercial break. You can also all thank me later.