Nighttime establishing shot of About To Be Scrap Metal Memorial Police Station. The distant "thwack, thwack, thwack, crash, look out below, thwack, thwack, so then we haven't been renewed then eh?, thwack, screeeeech, run!" noises of a soundstage being dismantled and refitted for use as the future home of numerous upcoming Isuzu commercials continues just to the left of the camera's gaze, because that Davis Leisure sure is going to be a big star one day, dammit. We cut inside to find Lucy "Leprechaun 2" Moran and Deputy Andy "Scenes Deleted…Forever" Brennan sitting, heads resting against each other, pink slips tucked in their lapels, leased Porches being forklifted back to the dealership. Sounding exhausted from a twenty-nine episode commitment of talking in a high-pitched, non-threatening drawl without once driving north across the border into Effeminate County, Andy asks Lucy in a high-pitched, non-threatening drawl, "Were you afraid, Punky?" Lucy -- er, "Punky" -- responds in turn, offering a recap of last week's final moments with about seven more cumulative words (though, miraculously, even fewer sentences) than even I was able to generate on the very same topic: "I was on the stage at the Roadhouse and the lights went out and I kept thinking, 'The lights are going out, the lights are going out,' and then they did, and it all went black, and I kept thinking, 'It's so dark, what about hand signals, what good would they do us now?' And the baby! What if the lights went out in the hospital and the lights went out in the elevator?" Andy responds that he would have delivered the baby in the elevator, right there, "in front of God and everybody." Or he would start to cry and ask all bewildered why his progeny wasn't flown in by the stork, swaddling clothes included, as his increasingly yokel-ized characterization would convince us is what he believes. They look at each other, very daytime-soap-y, kiss in a way I don't need to know much about, and simultaneously say, "I love you" when they look back at each other. Awwww. These two are a match made in heaven. Well, one in heaven. The other in Leprechaun 2.
A lingering close-up on FBI Special Agent Dale "Don't Tell Her It's" Cooper eventually pans back to the rest of the conference room just down the hall. Deputy "Roswell" Hawk stands near the back wall, silent, pensive, mournful-with-the-truth-of-the-ages-that-collectively-make-an-entire-people-mournful-of-the-pensive-ages. Harry "Whose Child Is This? The War for Baby Jessica" Truman bursts into the room, riding his good steed Expositiontariat toward the horizon and into the ever-nearing sunset, explaining, "We've got deputies from three counties looking for Earle. He seems to have completely disappeared." Cooper doesn't look away from The Blackboard Of Continually Narrowing Action, reasoning speciously to Truman, "The only hope we have of finding them is somewhere in this map." David Lynch asserts his dictatorial control over the proceedings, walking out from behind the camera and onto the set, requiring Cooper to erase the entire map and write "I will not make the final plot twist of this series entirely about a blackboard" fifty times after school. Then he makes him clean the erasers by pounding them together repeatedly. As well he should. Because, well, move it along. Cooper continues to fulfill the aesthetic integrity of his clearly marked stage directions, "I am staring at the blackboard," continuing to, well, stare at the blackboard. Again, he speaks: "Loose ends. Tie them together. No matter the cost. Forty-three minutes left." Oh, sorry. I didn't realize I wasn't being paid to recap his internal dialogue here in this scene. Here's what he really says: "Giant. Little man. Fire. Fire, walk with me. Fire, walk with me." But Cooper's return to numerous episodes past is cut short straightaway, when the door to the conference room flies open, revealing Pete "Meatballs 4" Martell, looking duly pissed off and announcing, "Grand. Theft. Auto." Meh? He slams the door and actually swaggers in, continuing on, "The Log Lady stole my truck." Conveniently, Pete knows said stealer of the truck "took off on the road, toward the woods." Oooooh. The woods. I know them well. Just like this one time, here in Manhattan, we apprehended a car thief by pointing the authorities in the correct direction of "the tall building," and then caught up with them all the way out on Long Island, due to someone's Carmen-Sandiego-specific directions that they drove right past "the strip mall" and "the diner" and "that one suburban home." The whole damn state is moodily blowing, Nance. You're going to have to give us maybe just a little more than "the woods." Or…not? Cooper volleys back, "The Log Lady did not steal your truck. The Log Lady will be here in one minute." Cooper follows this moment with another furrowed glare of sudden understanding, looking up and informing Truman, "Harry, Ghostwood Forest." While Pete wanders aimlessly around the back of the set practically knocking over whatever remaining furniture isn't nailed down and muttering, "Twelve rainbow trouts in the bed," Truman looks back at the chalkboard and yokels, "Wait just a doggone minute. There's a circle of twelve sycamores. Glastonbury Grove!" Hawk suddenly remembers he's in the room too, telling us, "That's where I found the bloody towel and the pages of the diary!" Oh, is that right? Cooper notes that Glastonbury is "the legendary burial place of King Arthur," setting up the wholly pointless but really, really funny line from Pete, "King Arthur's buried in England! At least, last I heard." Wow. A chess savant and a history expert, too. All he needs now is a starring role in a high-caliber project the quality of a Meatballs 4, and he'll be Hollywood legend.