Esquire SUV. They agree that they were hoping to have gotten out farther ahead.
Back at the lake, Shirtless Chilly Frank heads for the water. He goes right in and emerges with the clue, but he does not look happy as he runs back up with the information. Margarita reads the clue. She's thrilled that they're headed back to New York City, and to Queens in particular, but not as thrilled as Loud Pushy Frank, who yells triumphantly. Now they walk back to their SUV, with Frank going barefoot in the snow. Ow. You know, I've briefly done the barefoot-in-the-snow thing, to fetch the paper or what have you, and I'm here to tell you that it hurts. Put on some socks or something, LPFrank.
In the SUV, he reads the clue again. "That's where my father lives," Margarita says, unable to believe her luck. "That's where your father lives!" Loud Pushy repeats. "Once we're in New York, it's all over," he bombasts. "It's all over, it's over," he repeats like a mantra. Uh, Overly Self-Assured Frank? A little less confidence might serve you better. He gives a hearty "Woooo!"
Commercials. You know, "Everybody's Waitin' For The Man With The Bag" really is the best Christmas song ever, so I have nothing to snark at Target about. In other news, apparently, you and your husband can take the same aspirin, even if you're short and he's tall, hard as that may be to believe.
Danza SUV, speeding down the road. Inside, LPFrank is plotting. He's excited to be going to New York, and he's concentrating on "how [he] can throw [Esquire] off," because he expects them to try to follow him. Whatever, Paranoid Misanthropic Frank. He cackles at his own cleverness, imagining the many ways he'll confuse the boys. There's something about Frank's plan that I don't get, which is that if he leads the boys in the wrong direction, won't he be going in the wrong direction, too? I mean, if they really are, y'know, following you, won't it be hard to lead them astray? I don't know; maybe I just don't have a mindset for war.
Esquire SUV. "We're going to their hometown," Brennan says unhappily. "They've already got a big advantage over us. We might have to use any possible advantage we can get." Extreme-extreme close-up of Rob's cheek, complete with The Non-Smiling Dimple Of Agonizing Stress. Cut immediately to Rob, in a convenience store, still in the dumb white booties (can't he take them OFF now?), walking up and trying to buy (actually, rent) somebody's cell phone for three hundred bucks. The first guy? Nothing doing. Second guy? Nope. First lady? Nope. Second lady? Ahhh, she's in her car, but she rolls the window down obligingly. (She can't see his shoes, I think, and that makes the difference. No one would do business with a man wearing all black except for cream-colored boots with a three-inch sole on them. He looks like a cross between Marcel Marceau and Peggy Fleming.) He promises to mail the phone back to her in a day or two, and the deal is done. She shows him how to work it. No, how to work the phone! Jeez.