At the Ghost Bar, Corey tries to bury the hatchet with Gabby. Their conversation basically revolves around Corey trying to make Gabby understand that he's a deep soul who's been hurt by everyone around him, and that this has turned him into a whispering poet whose sole mission in life is to bring harmony and tranquility to everyone's lives. Gabby says he's a shit-covered prick. Corey shrugs and says she's got a mothering quality and he's a hurt child and dammit...they go together like ramma lamma lamma kadingity-ding-da-dong. Jesus, Feldman, get off it already! And while you're at it, take off those stupid goddamned sunglasses while you're in a club at 2 AM. You don't have to worry about the paparazzi splashing your photo on the cover of The National Enquirer anymore, you godless bucket of chunky horse puke. You are a nobody. Hell, I've got more fans than you, and I do everything within my power to drive people away from me. Corey and Gabby agree to make a truce, but Gabby insists that this doesn't mean she's apologizing for a damned thing she's said to him or about him. Corey can live with that. Hell, it's one of the best deals he's received since The Lost Boys; he'll take it. They hug, and Gabby looks like she'd rather be hugging a leper with halitosis than Corey.