Meanwhile, back at the bar: Dean's out on the sidewalk, talking to himself either because Something's Not Quite Right With Dreary El Deano This Evening, or because Dumbass El Deano is a massive fucking tool. Your choice. Suddenly, his cell phone rings, and it's Stupid Sammy, but barely has Dumbass El Deano had a chance to answer when The Shadow Of Osiris reaches out from the gloom to snatch Our Intrepid Idiot into the next METAL TEETH CHOMP!

Orchard. Aftermath. Frantic with worry, Stupid Sammy leaves a surly message on Dumbass El Deano's voice mail, and just when he's about to twist his gigantic panties into an even more intricate knot, Barmaid Mia phones him back via Dean's ominously discarded cell. And as Stupid Sammy hops into Metallicar to motor on over to Barmaid Mia's present location...

...Witless Warren futzes with the TV remote back at This Week's Motel Room. Suddenly, the television set buzzes and blinks and flickers on and off, seemingly of its own accord, so Witless Warren completely ignores Stupid Sammy's entirely reasonable instructions and exits the protective confines of that carefully poured salt circle. Jackass. Of course, the instant he's outside the circle, the unquiet spirits of that dead liquor-store owner and his wife materialize to chase Witless Warren through the motel's hall until they corner him near a stairwell landing and aerate his skull with a spectral six-shooter. "ZZZZZZ -- gooooooooooooore?! -- ZZZZZZZ!" It happens off-screen. "ZZZZZZ -- hmph! -- ZZZZZZZ!"

Neal's. Barmaid Mia directs Stupid Sammy to the patch of sidewalk upon which she found Dumbass El Deano's discarded cell. Stupid Sammy crouches down, and down, and down, and down and down and down some more to find a few traces of red dirt marring the otherwise immaculate pavement, so it's back to...