At another tavern, McNulty is doing the things McNulty used to do before he hooked up with Beadie. Which is awkward, since, technically speaking, he is still hooked up with Beadie -- though not for long, probably, at this rate. With Ernie K. Doe's seminal anthem of oppressive domestic life "Mother in Law" blaring over the jukebox, a clearly liquored-up McNulty excuses himself from flirting with some attractive bar bunny to check in with Beadie. We only get his end of the conversation -- he's not drunk, he swears! -- but it's clear that Beadie ain't buying what he's selling.
Out on the streets, Bubbles is wandering to and fro, presumably because his sister is at work and he has to be out of the house. He walks past assorted drug dealers with some resolve before passing a familiar figure in an alleyway. Give yourself points if you recognized Hucklebuck, who used to run scams with Bubbles and Johnny back in Season 1. Bubbles looks like he would gladly trade your points for something to take the edge off.
At yet another tavern -- Christ, Baltimore is the drinkingest city in all of the mid-Atlantic -- the Sun staff is gathering for a post-deadline libation, where the older editors are singing the praises of Gus Haynes for digging up that story on deadline. Haynes allows that "any night a Baltimore politician calls you a son of a bitch is a good night" -- even William Pinkney Whyte? -- but points out that this is a group effort, and that much credit should go to Alma Guttierez for getting a quote out of Fatface Rick. Seated next to Guttierez at the bar, Templeton practically shakes with envy as he downs his glass of Naked Ambition. "You deserve more than a contributing line," Templeton tells Guttierez, who nevertheless remains pleased with her credit in the story. "You can't go far with contrib lines," Templeton muses. And where would Arvin J. Ambition care to go? "Times or the Post, where else?" Templeton asks. "I don't know," Guttierez says. "This is still a pretty good paper." Templeton shakes his head as if that's the dumbest thing he's ever heard from someone not nearly so ambitious as himself.
In the Russell-McNulty estate, Beadie is waiting up for McNulty with an increasing level of irritation flashing across her face. "Fuck this shit," she finally seems to say. "Did you see the notices I've been getting for Gone Baby Gone? I don't need this crap." And with that, she turns out the porch light. The camera lingers on the front porch just a little while longer, and the light flickers back on. Aw, Beadie -- if you lived in a candy store, they'd make sure to stick you with all the rest of the suckers.