Back at The Tragic Bachelor Pad Of Lousy Yet Remarkably Accurate Writing, Bugs Bunny's passed out in a pool of his own vomit, shuddering and gasping in his booze-induced stupor once another vision hits that whiskey-soaked brain of his. It's Sam, in this week's motel room, with a sassy-looking bleached blonde whose eyes have flipped a milky, opaque white. Uh oh. The blonde perches on one of the twins, invitingly patting the comforter beside her, and Our Intrepid Ginormotron Antichrist crosses the room to loom above her tiny form for an instant before crawling on top of her and then...Chuck snaps out of it! "Well, I NEVER!" Raoul shrieks, and, uh, you have something to add, my scaly friend? "I do indeed! [A-him!] It's been litrilly months since we've seen that charming little lad's remarkably expressive trapezii, and they've ended what was promising to be an utterly bewitching scene far too soon for my tastes most certainly, so there!" That...that's it? "Of course! Why?!" Oh, nothing! Nothing at all -- it was just, uh, calmer than I expected. "Oh, you delightful little man! You're speaking nonsense again! It makes me positively giggle! Hee!" This can't be good. "What!?" Never mind. "Okay! [Slurp!]" Uh, yeah. So, Bugs Bunny snaps out of his latest premonition, or whatever, right before he gets to the good bits, and then he vanishes into the METAL TEETH CHOMP!, and I'm going to keep right on going with this, because Raoul's starting to freak me out. "What?!" Nothing!