Kima comes home to a warm, bright apartment, hanging up her coat and calling out, "Hey, where you at?" "Where you think?" comes back the voice of Cheryl (Melanie Nicholls-King), apparently in the bedroom. Kima sets a tinfoil-covered plate on the kitchen table, which has books and papers spread out all over it, and settles down to her schoolwork. Cheryl, in an oversized t-shirt, comes out to ask how much work Kima has; she's working on a ten-page paper (with "all the footnotes," no less) due the next day. Cheryl tips Kima's face back and gives her a kiss. They're both cute and everything, but the kiss is more companionable than hot, so don't get mad at me for not recapping it in porny detail; this isn't Rome. Kima's pager goes off, and she picks up the phone.
Bunk and McNulty are sitting on the hood of a Caprice parked beside some train tracks, really drunk. Bunk is telling a story about a time he was working on two murders and a police shooting, only to get called away to deal with a mouse in his wife's closet. "How did you catch him?" McNulty asks. "'Catch him'?" says Bunk. "I lit his ass up!" McNulty, after a moment: "You shot the mouse?" Bunk nods. "With your nine?" "The first shot killed my wife's dress shoe," says Bunk. "Got him with the second." McNulty smiles. Bunk's like, "What?" "You shot a mouse with your service weapon?" says McNulty. Now's probably as good a time as any to note that Glark's dad, a (now retired) provincial police officer, only ever discharged his weapon to kill animals, including a deer involved in a car accident. Anything you hear about him using it to euthanize a suffering pet rather than pay a vet for lethal injection is, according to my mother-in-law, a colourful fabrication by Glark. McNulty asks what Bunk did with the mouse carcass, and Bunk says that he cleaned it up: "I thought of leaving that little motherfucker there as a warning to the others." They laugh. As McNulty drains his bladder on the train tracks, Bunk drains his bottle, complaining to McNulty that it's 3:30 AM and he's slated for "early relief," so he at least needs to go change his clothes. "I'm gonna do this case," McNulty declares. "I'm gonna do this case, the way it should be done." Bunk tells him to stick to the buy-and-busts, adding a slightly urgent "Jimmy" to draw him off the tracks before the oncoming train splatters him. "Let's call it a night," says McNulty, getting into the car to drive, piss-drunk.