And now -- parallelism! In one corner, we have Gus addressing the metro staff of the Baltimore Sun. In the other, Daniels is doing likewise to the assembled Homicide detectives. Hear both authority figures bark out orders calmly and decisively! Watch as their underlings nod in appreciation of the responsibilities they must shoulder! Feel the chills run up your spine as both Gus and Daniels exhort their respective troops to get out there in the streets and work the story/solve the case! Share in the excitement as both the paper and the police know the rare thrill of finally having unlimited resources at their disposal. "For once, people, I am assured that the resources we need to work this story will be there for us," Gus tells the paper. "I am now told by the mayor directly that there will be no overtime restrictions, no staffing limits on this case," Daniels tells the police. Jinx! Buy me a Coke! And so the respective forces disperse, with Templeton crowing to Alma that they've finally got a story with legs, and Kima cooing to McNulty that they're finally doing actual policework. See -- the newspaper and police storylines are exactly in tandem. With the exception that the police storyline is interesting and populated with fleshed-out characters we care about. But other than that -- totally similar.
Over to Michael's corner, where business is booming. Michael is getting a report on the bustling trade from Spider, while Dukie consults the want ads. "Career day on the corner, huh?" Spider sneers at Dukie; Michael suggests that Spider cram it sideways. And now, because you probably aren't depressed enough about your own life, please contemplate the grim sight of Dukie reading about jobs he doesn't quite understand and that he's not remotely qualified for. Certified hydrotherapist, dental front desk, HVAC maintenance supervisor -- these are not exactly the occupations likely to deliver Dukie from his grim surroundings. About this guy's only hope is if y'all pool your resources to place a classified ad along the lines of "Wanted: Tragic figure for rescue from remorseless future. Must require reassuring hugs while excelling at eating candy." Come to think of it, maybe I'll apply for that gig -- I bet my references are much more impressive than Dukie's. There is one job in the paper that Dukie recognizes -- "Exotic Dancer, downtown, financial district, lunchtime hours." As if to show off his undeniable qualifications for the job, Dukie jumps to his feet and does what he imagines to be an erotic bump-and-grind. Michaels is amused; the other corner denizens, less so. Fortunately, before we can dwell too much on how horrible Dukie is, Carver pulls up in a squad car, apparently to haul in Michael. Hooray -- a happy ending to this scene!