Holder: "Next time you talk to Rosie, could you ask her who killed her?"
Linden: "Somehow, I think, we can presume that I would fuck that up too."
Holder: "I'm serious. Jack is freaking out. And I know you haven't been sleeping. I don't want you to crack up."
Linden: "Prepare for me to act defensive."
Holder: "Oh, I already was. Honestly, your stonewalling me on this is making me pretty irritated, which is the totally wrong way to come at you."
Linden: "I hear there is a 12-Step program for shitty moms like me. I refer, of course, to addiction treatment and rehabilitation, as one might undergo for a methamphetamine addiction."
Holder: "I'm just saying you could possibly chill out. Actually, I'm just saying I care about you and your child, which nobody else on earth does, and not all that quietly."
Linden: "In our society, labor and goods are exchanged for currency. I will gladly pay you currency for your habanero omelet, but I will not pay you in listening to your parenting advice. You tell me to stop being crazy for my child's sake and I will repay you by telling you, Go stop doing meth."
Holder: "Okay, but we're both addicts. How about you look at it that way? Everybody on this show is an addict. The paralysis of grief is an equally valid parallel."
Linden: "Your sponsor was Gil, the corrupt man that got us nearly fired and got Darren shot. Don't you tell me about addiction."
Holder: "I'm going to miss this for the remainder of the episode. You're not even good at being bitchy. It's just this subdued, powerless viciousness, like a little kid using the n-word."
Linden: "You are endangered with such regularity every time you exit this vehicle that I would probably be concerned, if you had not questioned my unbelievably crummy parenting. As it is, I have absent butterflies to interrogate."
I hate it when they fight. My goodness, do I hate that.
Linden drives across the rez, which is full of little kids, and a dead dog they are poking with a stick. You know, The Killing type stuff. And then Holder wanders the casino, which like all casinos is full of the equivalent of little kids poking a dead dog with a stick, except the kids and the dogs are the same person. A maid stares at him, maybe because she thinks he's hot, because she hasn't heard him speak words yet.