Martell Manse under the cover of darkness. Because this show apparently takes place on the radio or was written with the liberal assistance of The Big Book Of Loudly Uttered Shakespearean Asides, Brother Andrew narrates his entire sequence of replacing the key in the cake plate with an identical copy and informing us, "I knew I'd seen it somewhere. Safety deposit box. They'll never notice the difference." Iago away, Brother Andrew. But Brother Andrew is not alone, turning to see Pete, who offers the sorrowful, "Oh, Andrew." Brother Andrew offers a wholly unremorseful "Goodnight, Pete," and ambles off, sorry that the dramatic ante was not upped by the sudden, non-sequitur reemergence of Sylvia Horne. One per episode, I guess. That's too bad. Because there's nothing about her that doesn't scream "spin-off."

Cooper and Truman pull up behind Pete's abandoned truck. Their flashlight beam tracks the ground to the sycamore trees, and Cooper informs Truman, "I have to go on alone." He takes the flashlight and walks deeper into the woods, the trees done blow moodily, the crickets done chirp forebodingly, the owls done be not what they seem. Cooper shines the flashlight on the center of the trees and reminds us that it's "the opening to a gateway." He switches the flashlight off and watches the curtains appear. We cut to Truman's POV as we watch Cooper walk behind them and disappear. Truman mutters a kick-ass "my God." Oh, Harry. We have not even begun. Cooper walks inside the Black Lodge, and we catch only a glimpse of the red curtains and the black-and-white zig-zag floor pattern before Strobe-a-palooza kicks up and we see only flashes. Cooper walks into the room from his dream in Episode 2, and from behind another curtain The Little Man From Another Place dances out, happy too for this lucrative reunion special. He takes a seat in one of the chairs -- awwww, tiny man in a big chair! -- and looks into the next room, where legendary jazz singer Jimmy Scott belts out an impassioned version of "Under the Sycamore Trees." Because, get it? Dude, this club rocks. Back in real Twin Peaks, they've got the cut-rate Mazzy Star wannabe of Julee Cruise. The booking agent for the dark side has clearly got a lot more connections. They should get him to record the theme song for season three. For all we know, maybe they already have. The song ends and Jimmy Scott sadly vaporizes, and we cut for but a moment back to the woods, where Andy wanders around asking, "Sheriff Truman?" Truman calls out that he's "over here," and that cuts us to commercial with a drama I guess they thought jazz and velvet and strobes never could have. Odd, that.