FBI safe house. A tired guard watches the LGs chill on the couch, then boom -- the screen turns to snow, then to an old black-and-white noir flick. By the time he gets to their room, the window is wide open and they're gone.
Nightclub. Mr. Memory is doing his act. CEM is at a table, and the Russkie, his minion, and Carol sit down. They don't have the plutonium on them, and aim a tiny, deadly sample at the CEM. They want to know who CEM is, and who Carol is. CEM is like, aren't you going to buy me a drink? Then, Jimmy/Skinner walks in and waves at them. He shoos away the waiter, and vamps for a bit. Hey! I'm the director of the FBI! Who are we killing today! The bodies are stacking up! Hey hey! The table is stunned, the waiter reapproaches, and Jimmy/Skinner orders...a Cuba Libre. Sorry, they're out of fresh limes, how about a rum and coke? Nah. Oh wait. Yeah. Rum and Coke! The room suddenly teems with agents yelling, "Freeze, don't move!" Jimmy/Skinner puts his hands in the air as "Rum and Coca-Cola" starts playing.
One Skinner? Two Skinners? Who are you? Who is that? The two Skinners circle each other until Jimmy/Skinner sees the LG and gets all aw-shucks-gee-golly-gosh again. Skinner says he sees the LGs "have found themselves a fourth stooge." Word.
Lone Gunpad. The headline says, "FBI Nails Plutonium Deal, Courageous Reporters Aid Case." Yeah, and almost wrecked it! And they kept Carol's secret. But Jimmy and Yves knew the moment they saw Carol. Sure, they did. And, they turned a profit, but with the money, they freed Jimmy's fancy black sports car. Aww. Jimmy's voice-over continues, "Maybe that's what true friends are -- the people you can really show your face to." My face? Is barfing right now.