At night, Beadie rings a doorbell at a house we haven't seen before. After a moment, Maui comes to the door. Beadie gives him a huge smile and asks how he's been. "Same old," he says -- not unfriendly, but also not really knowing what she's doing there, either. She asks whether he's getting much work, and he smiles as he tells her he's working in the tower now. She smiles and nods. Maui invites her in, saying that he has beer and possibly some Bacardi. Beadie suggests that they go for a cup of coffee. Maui gives her an appraising look, and says he'll go get his jacket. The camera pulls back to show us that Maui lives in a trailer park -- not that there's anything wrong with that, but if that's typical of the sort of single-family dwelling a Patapsco guy can afford, it sort of answers the question of why so many of them would feel free to fence stolen goods.
Donette's. Stringer watches Tyrell playing on the floor as Donette yammers from offscreen, telling Stringer all about her visit with D'Angelo. She finally comes into the room, fastening an earring: "He off the damn hook." Stringer confirms that Donette told D'Angelo about the Barksdale organization's plans. She leans forward and takes Stringer's hand: "He knows some. I mean, damn, he don't need to know about it all, right?" Stringer gazes at her balefully, and they unlace their fingers. Donette smirks down at Tyrell, and then concludes her tale: she told D'Angelo that she'd be back the next weekend, and he plainly couldn't care less: "He say just leave him alone." The oven dings, and Donette hurries off to turn her roast, throwing over her shoulder, "You gonna see, String, for real. Little Donette know how to burn." Stringer lets it all sink in for a moment, and then leans down to pick up Tyrell and dandle him on his knee. "Your father bucking us, little man," murmurs Stringer. "What you think about that?" Tyrell thinks cookies!
Bad part of town. La La and Nick get out of an El Camino, looking like they've got their game faces on. "Fucking Ziggy, man," crabs La La. Yet another possible subtitle for this season! "I'm about to get my ass shot behind his bullshit?" Nick stalks forward purposefully, telling La La, "We're reasonable, they're reasonable." "Maybe on your side of town," mutters La La. They make their way over to a corner, where a couple of guys are playing dice or something. One peels off to ask Nick what's up. Nick sternly says that they're there to "see a man about a car." Dicey pulls up his sweatshirt to show Nick the handgun tucked into the waistband of his...sweatpants. Which does not seem to me like the most secure place to store a weapon. What if it slips down one of the legs while you're running after a dude you're trying to shoot? You have to stop and fish it out of your cuff? That's just embarrassing. Anyway, Nick asks Dicey to tell Cheese they're there. Conveniently enough, Cheese comes around the corner at just this moment, so that his butler, Dicey, can announce "white boy." Cheese obviously knows that Nick is involved with Ziggy, and asks whether Nick's got his money. Nick says that's what they came to talk about. Cheese snickers to his henchmen, and tells Nick that he's got "a lot of heart," coming there without Cheese's money. La La says they thought maybe they could work something out. Cheese is listening. Nick says that if Cheese will give Ziggy his car back, Nick will have Ziggy sell it: "Camaro with a 350 in it, it's got to be worth more than three grand." Cheese calls that "right clever," and says he appreciates their coming all this way to present their proposal so much that he'll give Ziggy another week to pay what he owes. Nick and La La look at each other uncertainly. Cheese adds, "'Course, that ride ain't worth nothing near three thou." He turns to his henchmen, who are already cracking up. Cheese can tell that Nick doesn't believe him, so he motions around the corner, inviting Nick, "Take a look." And there's Princess, burning at the curb. Yes, I would say that would negatively affect her Blue Book value. Nick clenches his jaw. The camera pulls in close on the rear license plate, surrounded by a frame that reads, "HAPPINESS IS BEING ZIGGY," until the bottom half melts off. Then the letters just say "HAPPINESS," though the word is actually pronounced "IRONY."
In a too-brightly-lit burger joint, Beadie sits alone with Maui, who says that when she showed up at his door, he was "thinking better thoughts than this." He sighs: "And you counted on that, huh." "Who else am I gonna ask?" says Beadie. Maui tells her that he isn't a snitch: "Not even for you am I a snitch." Beadie quietly tells him she isn't thinking about it that way: "I'm thinking, 'Here's a guy, and we had some times together, and even though, you know, it didn't get to where he might have wanted it, he's still a good guy -- he's someone I can talk to about this.'" Maui sets his jaw, and then asks, "How come it didn't go nowhere?" Beadie folds her hands, and after a long beat, she says, "You did good. Who knows? I don't know. You never know." She looks like she's possibly about to cry, and takes a sip of her coffee to cover it. Maui considers this. Beadie sets her cup back down, and tells him, "I could show you pictures of how they died. Broken fingernails, blood on the walls." Maui angrily rears back in his seat: "All of a sudden, you're a cop." "Help me with this, Mau," pleads Beadie. Maui chuckles bitterly: "You didn't get shit from grabbing up Horseface and them, did you?" Beadie doesn't deny it. Maui says that's kind of funny: "I mean, you running around like your head's all chopped off, looking for someone to clue you in, when a lot of what you're asking about is right there for the taking." "How so?" says Beadie, alert. Maui sighs again, and then says that checkers used to do everything on paper; when the ship left without incident, the paper was thrown away: "That don't happen today, right? Nothing gets tossed anymore." He stares straight at her as he says it, but can't hold her gaze long without twitching like even telling her what she already knows is betraying his brothers. Beadie finally gets it: "The computer." Maui swallows. Beadie grins and takes his hand: "Thanks, Mau." His namesake island won't be far enough for him to hide if anyone at the port gets wind of this conversation.