Shot of rain hitting a window. Tarzan appears. FINALLY, he's shirtless. And in a ponytail. He also stares out the window, at the same rain Jane's watching!
Jane blinks. Blinks. Blinks. The music is horrible.
Tarzan walks backward from the window. We can see that his arm is bandaged up. He sits against the bed, pouting, his knees obstructing our view of his chest. Tarzan pouts. Pouts. Pouts. Fade to black. Whoa. This does not bode well, friends.
Next week it looks like exactly the same shit happens: Sam's close to solving a case (something about a wild man with long hair and no shoes!), Clayton tries to find Tarzan, glass breaks, Tarzan leaps, rain falls, and Jane doesn't know what she's supposed to do. Take off your shirt, Tarzan! God! It's so simple! That's all you have to do! Please!