Kimble leads Mia through the hotel's peeling hallways and lets her into his room. "Go inside and stay there. Stay there no matter what," Kimble tells her, closing the door behind him. "Don't open the door!" Mr. keckler and I shriek, "SHHHH!" because he practically yells it down the hallway. Oh, dear -- I think I just got into this show. Post Road Pumpkin Ale break.

Kimble collars Warren in the lobby; Warren tells him he has the address he needs. "Oh great, thanks. Listen, there's a guy around here, he's wearing a plaid shirt, he's kind of off," Kimble starts to tell him. "Yeah, a real nutbucket, looking for you. He's -- uh-oh," Warren gulps, "twelve o'clock." The "kind of off" nutbucket purposely bumps into Kimble. "Oh, excuse me," Nutbucket says, and starts to walk away. There's something about the way Nutbucket runs into Kimble with his head lowered and his hand on Kimble's chest, which makes him look like a football player going through pre-game exercises using a blocking sled; it also makes me want to giggle, because it really wasn't that menacing. "Hey, what do you want?" Kimble demands. What are you doing, buddy? He was walking away -- just let him and go back to your yoga breathing. "What do I want?" Nutbucket slurs. "Oh, yeah, I want to know what room you're doing her in." Warren tries to intervene. "Yo, does this look like a guy who's getting any?" he laughs. "Warren," Kimble says, warningly. "I've seen you before. I've seen you hanging around her, haven't I?" Nutbucket asks. "No," Kimble says. "No?" Nutbucket questions. "No," Kimble reaffirms. "Why do you look so familiar?" Nutbucket asks. "Listen, she's your wife," Kimble tells him, trying to get through the thick alcoholic haze. "Yeah, and?" Nutbucket says stupidly. Kimble doesn't say anything. "You think you're so smart," Nutbucket sneers, and walks over to the front desk. He bangs on the desk bell and demands to speak to the manager. When the manager appears, Nutbucket tells him and the whole lobby that Kimble stole $100 from his room. Kimble tries to argue that the guy isn't even a guest in the hotel, but Nutbucket grabs the desk phone and shouts that he'll call the police. Kimble backs down immediately, pulls out his wallet, and gives Nutbucket $100. Kimble apologizes to the manager, who tells him he's got one hour to get his stuff out of his room. Nutbucket points at Kimble's retreating back and says, "That'll teach you to mess with me, boy!"