Props to amorgan, for breaking down and breaking the code of silence. Twice! Oh, and 'cause she's my new girlfriend, too.

Same episode, Part the Second. Maybe we'll discover who that dang varmint is who shot Mr. Burns after all. I think it was Tito Puente. Let's wait and see!

The moon is half-full tonight as Cooper continues to stand in shock, watching Audrey in his bed at the Great Northern. Yeah, Coop, I know it's a pretty pivotal development for the arc of the show as a whole, but you do realize the moon was full to the point of bursting at the start of this episode's first hour, do you not? So unless you've been standing there for the better part of this two-week waning cycle, biding your time until Audrey becomes legal, I'd say it's time to put that gun down (yeah, wink wink) and start asking some questions. Two whole weeks. Damn, those Scandinavians know themselves a whole lotta drinking songs.

Inside the room, a decisively whispery Cooper tells an explicitly defrocked Audrey, "You're a high school girl. I'm an agent of the FBI." Which was not already mondo-apparent from his proudly donned navy blue windbreaker screaming "FBI" in sewn yellow letters upwards of seven times like it's the team uniform for the elected captain of some intergovernmental color war. She asks, whispery, if she should leave, and he Chinese riddles right back, "What I want and what I need are two different things." He offers a pithy speech about upholding the values of the Bureau and his quest for moral purity and you-haven't-been-a-high-school-student-since-the-Coolidge-administration-but-you-play-one-on-TV and it's-impossible-to-get-the-smell-of-sex-out-of-this-governmentally-sanctioned- windbreaker-anyway and blah blah blah statutorycakes. Awwww. How can their love be so wrong when it feels so right...to me? She counters his this-is-wrongitude with the simple inquiry, "But don't you like me?" He does, but he believes that what Audrey needs right now, "more than anything else, is a friend. Someone who'll listen." He hands her a handkerchief and she wipes her snotty nose, probably right into the words "no, really, he's in the FBI" stenciled in yellow across the center of the fabric. And, finally, happy with the "friends" consolation, she smiles big, and I remember again why Sherilyn Fenn, even with the pillbox-requiring hair and the small amount of meat she adds to her bones later in the series, remains so much more in the hearts and minds of the American populace than a very, very, very rich man's Monica Lewinsky. Cooper is going to run downstairs and get them some food, and when he returns, he promises, "I want you to tell me all of your troubles." She warns him that this chore could "take all night" ("and then there was the time I was crazy, and then there was the time I was really, really crazy, and oh by the way have you met my brother, and where the hell is my mom these days, anyway?") and that she can't share all of her secrets. He responds, "Secrets are dangerous things, Audrey." He doesn't have any secrets. Audrey tells him that Laura was, as we have been told by another character familiar with the general locale of Cooper's bed, "filled with secrets." He says it's his job to figure out what those secrets were. Cooper makes for the door as one last shot of a sheet-cloaked Audrey causes that one last primally pubescent urge in me to volley at the screen, "I'll be more than a friend, Audrey!" before I reread the entirety of my first six recaps and shrug in resignation, considering the amount of time and energy I've already expended homing in on Bobby. I will be alone forever.