Morning. Tammy races into the office, unlocks her secret lock box, and whips out the cooked books. Unfortunately for her, Randall and Tommy walk in, mid-whip. Tommy acts menacing. Tammy acts freaked. I act bored out of my gourd. Just as Tommy snatches the lock box out of her scared little hands, Doggett, Scully, et al burst in, warrant in hand, looking for evidence to tie Tommy to Carlton's murder. Tammy's saved by the Feds! I sure hope she isn't supposed to be sympathetic, because Tommy could lock her in the Dumpster with the rats, and I wouldn't really care. Anyhoo, Doggett snatches the lock box away from Tommy, and, because Tammy simps that she doesn't remember the combination, breaks it open with a letter opener. I have no idea where Scully is; maybe she's off combing her new hairdo. The lock box, shockingly, is empty, which prompts an indignant diatribe from Tommy about running a clean business, and so forth. Scully, apparently, has not been idly combing her hair, because she waltzes into the office with a pile of manila folders. She asks Tommy to explain them. He tells her that they're office supplies designed to keep his paperwork organized.
Police HQ. Doggett's got Tommy in one interrogation room, Scully has Randall in the other. Oh, I know how this goes; I watch Law and Order. Scully asks Randall how it's possible that his teeny tiny exterminating company billed over $700,000 in the last year, to Carlton Chase alone. Randall looks blank. "Seven hundred thousand. That's a lot of dead rats," Scully says, and, again, I ask you to stop with the rats, people. Scully does the Patented Scully Eyebrow Raise of Disbelief and hypothesizes that Randall, Tammy, Tommy and Carlton were in a totally different line of business. Say, ladies' lingerie? No. Randall absently shakes his head and looks through the wall, where Doggett is interviewing Tommy. Tommy sneers and tells Doggett that he's just a "regular joe, providing a public service."
We Wall Tunnel back to Randall, who looks sweetly at Scully and repeats his brother's words. She turns to stare at the wall, and flat-out asks him if that's what his brother just said. She gets into his grill and tells him that she knows he can see through the wall, and that she knows he shoots drug dealers, from places where they can't see him and are hence totally defenseless, and then he and Tommy rob them. And that's how they make all their money, she finishes. Randall looks vaguely uncomfortable, like his shoes are pinching him. I thank Scully for recapping the entire plot of the show in one succinct sentence. Randall repeats that he and Tommy are exterminators. "You certainly are," Scully breathes. Holy Double Meaning, Batman! WE GET IT! We. Get. IT! Damn. Scully eyes Randall and tells him that she has a feeling Tommy is the brains behind the entire operation. "It's time to be your own man, Randall," she Psych 101s. Randall's nostrils flare thoughtfully.