Back from his nightly wanderings, Bubbles is packing up and heading out. At first, I thought he was pursuing new, doubtlessly drearier living arrangements after a night on the street made him take a hard look at himself, but I don't think he is, as we'll learn in a scene or two, right after...
...Daniels gets done telling the Major Case Unit that their goose is cooked. For all you who had the unit getting fucked in the ear by the end of the first episode, please collect your bets. Daniels is telling the gang that he did what he could do, but the city is putting its efforts into crime suppression. Sydnor counters that keeping Marlo under tight surveillance probably kept the crime rate down, and wouldn't you like to be at the next Comstat meeting where Sydnor's theory is proven correct? Daniels sighs. "Look, promises were made to me as well," he says, just as the camera cuts to McNulty fuming in the corner. "I was told a new day was coming." And the name of that day is apparently Justlikebeforeday -- it falls between Tuesday and Wednesday on the revised Gregorian calendar. So, time to reassign the troops -- McNulty and Kima are going back to homicide; Dozerman's headed to the tactical unit; Lt. Asher can finish designing his beach home over in the Northern District; and Freamon and Sydnor will be the two detectives kept on to investigate Clay Davis, per Carcetti's request. "When the money starts to flow," Daniels promises. "I'll get you all back on this somehow." Nobody looks like they really believe him all that much. "Wonder what it feels like to work in a real fucking police department," McNulty snots, as Daniels leaves the detail office -- the newspaper reporters already beat you to that witticism, pal.
So it turns out that where Bubbles was actually going in that last scene was his job, which is selling copies of the Baltimore Sun from a traffic median to passing motorists. One of his customers is none other than Council President Nerese Campbell, who takes a look at the front page as she's rolling up the window of her car. The window is completely up by the time she starts visibly and angrily talking to herself -- I don't read lips, but I don't think she's praying.
And at the Sun offices, everyone is still singing hosannas about the council story, while Templeton silently fumes that he didn't play a bigger role in all this. But there's one way to correct this grievous oversight -- he heads over to Haynes's desk, and begs the city editor to let him work on the follow-up story. "Yeah," Haynes says, not at all enthusiastically. "Stay hungry like that." Templeton slinks back to his desk, vowing to make everybody pay when he becomes Grand Journalist In Charge Of Everything or something like that. Meanwhile, Haynes concerns himself with filling the next day's paper: "There are a million stories in the naked city," he shouts to the rest of the newsroom. "But today, you poor mooks only need to throw me three or four."
I don't know about you, but my biggest "Holy crap" moment of this episode was when Maury Levy walks into his office and Herc's there waiting for him. Herc is doing work for Avon Barksdale's attorney? Yeah, that stands to figure, actually -- that's about Herc's speed. Herc hands over the information he got from his former cohorts and boasts, "They fucking love me in the department. I'm a fucking martyr is what I am. Pull over some black minister. Piss him off. And I lose my fucking job." Yes, we call that "failing upward," Herc. About the only other thing worth noting here -- besides Herc's subterranean standards -- is that Levy points out one of their clients (that'd be Nerese Campbell) has gone and landed herself on the front page of the local paper. ["Levy just says 'one of our clients on the front page,' so I assumed the client was Fatface Rick, not Campbell. Levy's career seems to be representing drug dealers; I'm not sure Nerese would be dumb enough to tangle herself up with that." -- Miss Alli]