Then the song that haunts my dreams comes on.

J.B. walks into Scraggle Rock’s music shoppe and tells him he needs some disco music, "On vinyl for that" -- J.B. pretends he’s scratching a record -- "sound." "For that" -- Scraggle imitates J.B. -- "sound?" J.B. explains that he was cleaning some old bag’s hair follicles who was upset because her DJ pulled out of her daughter’s sweet-sixteen birthday party. "So, you’re going to be a party DJ?" Scraggle asks. "How hard can it be? I’m getting $600 for the gig, and once I rent the equipment, I’m getting $450. $450 for one night!" J.B. explains. Scraggle shows off his music know-how and gives him "cool disco, not disco disco." J.B. is silent for a moment, and you can just see the wheels turning in his head. Slowly. He asks Scraggle to put the music together and J.B. will pay him $100. Scraggle’s got a better idea: "You said you were clearing $450." J.B. says, "How about $175?" Scraggle persists, "How about we split it fifty-fifty and I help you with the whole gig? I just had everything stolen from my place and my landlord’s raising my rent [way to work the guilt factor, Scraggs] and then you wouldn’t be lugging all that heavy equipment by yourself." J.B. still tries to strike a better deal: "Sixty-forty." Scraggle holds firm: "Fifty-fifty, equal partners." J.B. assents, "Deal," and they shake on it.

Can it be? Really? Am I dreaming, or is that Cecilia walking down the street in the next shot? It is Cecilia! She marches up to an apartment and buzzes. A male voice answers, "Hello?" "Oh, hey. It’s Cecilia Wiznarski. We met at that singles party, you Heimliched me and kind of saved my --" The orthodontist who saved Cecilia’s life comes darting out the front door. "Whoa, speedy," Cecilia comments. Orthodontist explains that he was just headed out and that his apartment is right there and then says he’s shocked, because Cecilia never called him back. Cecilia says she knows and that he was nice and everything, "But, you know, I just thought: you, me, what’s wrong with that picture? So, sorry." Ortho Man says it’s okay and that the important thing is that she changed her mind. Cecilia tells him that’s really not the case: "I need a favor, and I feel wicked asking you this, but you’re a dentist, right?" "I’m an orthodontist," Ortho Man corrects her. "Right. I chipped my tooth. It’s small. It’s right here --" Cecilia points in her mouth -- "and it keeps catching on my tongue and it’s kind of gross, so --" "I could file it for you," Ortho Man suggests. "That would be awesome. Cash is kind of non-existent right now," Cecilia explains. "It’s okay. I was just headed to the office. So, how did you chip it anyway?" Ortho Man asks. "Opening a freakin’ beer bottle!" Cecilia tells him, shaking her head incredulously.