Templeton continues to trudge through the homeless encampments of Baltimore. He approaches some guys warming themselves by a fire -- only a dog lunges at him and chases him away while the guys laugh. From the look on Templeton's face, the headline he's composing in his brain is something along the lines of "City's Homeless A Bunch of Stupid Jerks."

From their Omar-proof hidey-hole, Snoop and Chris revel in the fact that nobody has shot them yet. Chris is tossing a knife into the floor over and over again -- either he's practicing for the big mumblety-peg tournament coming up, or he's really pissed. Bet on pissed. Snoop suggests he take his mind off his simmering rage by buying some toys and delivering them to his kids. Chris points out that that's a stupid idea -- hiding out from a vicious killer we've wronged, remember? How would Omar find out about them, Snoop wonders. "How did we find out about the blind man?" Chris yells back. Well, Cheese dropped a dime on him, as I recall, and...oh. Point taken.

An SUV pulls up outside a row house, and a man comes out to stand guard, while a little hopper runs out to deliver a trash bag full of money over to the SUV. He didn't do a very good job at standing guard, because Omar pops out of the alleyway, shotgun blazing. The guard takes a shot in the knee; the SUV takes one in the rear window, and everyone inside scampers out. "Get!" Omar bellows at one of the SUV passengers, and he doesn't have to ask twice. Omar relieves the young boy of his garbage bag and sends him away, too. "Money, a little late today," Omar observes as he tosses the bag in the backseat of the SUV. He then lights a rag and sticks it in the gas tank. "That buckshot in your leg should help you some when you explain yourself to Marlo," Omar says to the guard twitching on the sidewalk. Funny, but I'm not hearing a "Thanks, Omar" -- perhaps it was drowned out by the sound of the SUV exploding. "Now you make sure you tell old Marlo I burned the money," Omar says. "Because it ain't about that paper. It's about me hurting his people and messing with his world. Tell that boy he ain't man enough to come down to the street with Omar." And off Omar hobbles. You know, there have got to be better ways to deliver all these messages Omar wants to send. Maybe we should all kick in a buck or two and get him some real nice stationery.