Gus and Hera get to work at the Brauhaus. Hera explains the task to her dad and then starts bugging people: "Pictures? No pictures? Hera? Black people?"

Hornio arrives at the Citadel, asking the wrestlers, "Is it hard?" Oh, they're getting right to it, aren't they? They start on their first link as Lori and Bolo call the supervisor over to measure their links. Their links are too short, so they have to start over. El Hornio watches this, and Rebecca tells him to pay attention to what he's doing. "Oh, I'm paying attention," he smirks. El Hornio appreciates the sight of the warm meat sliding smoothly into place, making it very difficult for me not to speculate on his future career. "This is hilarious," he says, to FCC-baiting close-ups of hot hand-on-wiener action. Rebecca's in too much of a hurry to see the humor.

Kris and Jon's train finally arrives near the Brauhaus. "Let's get it on," Jon says as they enter. They find their first beer mat in short order. Kris's face goes slack with hopeless shock, every fiber of her being suffused with the inevitability of their imminent failure. Gus and Hera find a coaster. Gus takes a long swig out of a stein and then sets it back down on a table. Heh. "I don't think you're allowed to drink it, Daddy," Hera says, mildly scandalized.

Bolo makes sausage the way I make chocolate chip cookies, i.e. he stuffs gobs of the raw material in his mouth as he goes. Oh, ick. El Hornio observes this and registers his horror. Bolo cheerfully continues snacking, strands of tendon or gristle or something sticking to his face. I am so not kissing him right now.

Gus and Hera only have one coaster to go, and Hera's telling Gus not to pick up more beers than they need to get it. Gus clearly has a higher opinion of the necessity of beer. To Hera's dismay, he's stealing sips before delivering them to tables. Definitely not a tipping situation. She admonishes him not to look like such a lush. Kris and Jon get their fifth coaster and their clue, and head out for a cab. Kris stoops down, picks up a paving stone, and hurls it through the windshield of a passing police car, spewing forth a torrent of curse words that, even through the bleeping, is corrosive enough to peel the phosphor coating off my picture tube.

Gus and Hera finish. They go back to the bar to retrieve their bags (Gus a bit unsteady on his feet), and of course there are still several beers sitting there. Gus wants to stay and enjoy one, but Hera isn't having it. In fact, she's already got her pack on and she's practically out the door. Gus, however, is still standing at the bar, telling her to go ahead and he'll catch up with her as soon as he can get his pack on. By which he really means "slam a pint." Hera, though, knows exactly what he's up to, and refuses to turn her back on him. Gus weighs the certainty of a beer now and the possibility of a million dollars later, and it's actually looking pretty good for the beer. But finally he tears himself away. In the cab, he says, "I'd like it better if we'd stayed a little longer. That was excellent beer." Hera comes back with "I'd like it better if my dad would listen to me." Gus grins out the window. There are a lot of other ways she could have finished that sentence, most of them a lot more disrespectful than what she went with. Liking these two more all the time.