Sarah and Andy stroll through a heavily wooded park, which will be a convenient place for Sarah to dump the body. He says he figured he wasn't going to hear from her. "Miracles happen every day," she jokes. He says the police recommend he get a security system and maybe even "armed patrol" but he can't afford it. "You think someone wants the Turk?" she asks. He points out that it's eight years of his life, in which he not only designed the software but customized the hardware as well. They sit down on a bench to chat. "One month I worked on a motherboard so hard I lost my sight for three days. Those circuits are so small." He pulled a lot of the gears from gaming systems, which is what the military does. Yeah, I'm sure the military heads on over to Circuit City to buy the XBoxes and PlayStations to cannibalize, like this guy did. Oh, and the "seriously modded-out code" came to him in a dream. "All this to beat another computer at chess?" says Sarah. "None of this to beat another computer at chess," he says. Then what, Sarah wants to know. "Would you believe it if I told you Turk has moods?" says Andy. Sarah's look clearly means, Well, that's it. Now I have to kill you.
Andy says they're not moods in the sense that people understand moods, but sometimes he'll give Turk a chess problem, and Turk'll solve it one way, and the next day, he'll solve it a different way, and sometimes he won't even solve it at all. "Do you know why it does that?" he asks Sarah. Sarah has no idea. I have a theory: that the chess-playing computer made from three XBoxes and four PlayStations all daisy-chained is still less dorky than Andy. "Someday Turk'll tell me," says Andy. "You talk about it like it's human," says Sarah. "Well, you never know," he says, then, seeing her grimace, says, "What? Too far?" She says it's nothing, and they get up to keep walking, Sarah fingering the gun she's got tucked into the waistband of her jeans.
Cameron's admiring her tight makeup in the hallway when John comes out of a classroom. Cameron closes her eyes so John can admire her handiwork. "Do you like this colour on me?" she says. John's all, what? "I'm a bitch whore," says Cameron. John's all, WHAT? "I have a new friend," says Cameron. John wryly asks if Cameron's new friend told her she was a bitch whore. "No. She cried," says Cameron. Understandably, none of this makes any sense to John, but then he notices yet another painting, this one with the door slightly ajar, and featuring a silhouette of a couple kissing. Through the crack of the open "door," we can see the girl has blond hair. "Jumper! Outside the gym!" yells the hall crier, so everyone rushes outside.