Back outside in the middle of nowhere, a pan across a cluttered wood cabin lands us on the face of Windom "Look Who's Talking Now" Earle, playing some kind of long, Pied Piper-esque flute not even in vague time with the like-sounding instrument on Badalamenti's soundtrack. It feels very much like a clip from a movie I saw once on Mystery Science Theater 3000, where a big band is playing and a saxophone is wailing, but the saxophone player in the band is sitting in a chair snapping while the sax sits in his lap. It looked exactly the same as this does now. But with more robots. Oh, but there's Eric DaRe. I guess I stand corrected. Windom, looking far more the sex-offender type of psycho evil guy than the special-agent-hunting type of psycho evil guy, wears a flesh-colored unitard kind of footsy pajama ensemble, looking like he's one artist's rendering of the small intestines away from resembling Slim Goodbody's unkempt, hard-drinking brother, uh, Rupert. He stands up with his Soundtrack Defying Flute, dancing around the log cabin. Why, for the love of Kay Corleone, won't someone please make him stop doing that? Seriously, why am I standing on the observation deck at Ass National Park right now? Put. Those. Away.
Windom notes Leo, lying in the back of the room on a slab of wood, and he sits down near him. "Ah, you're awake, then!" So jaunty. "I trust you've slept well! While you slept, I learned all about you!" From inside the shirt (well, the top half of the unitard, anyway…it's all just one long shirt after all. One long, form-fitting shirt, now with a special Ass Accentuation Pouch in the back, for better ass clarity. Shudder), Windom The Crazy Grampa pulls out a mug shot with Leo's face and commences in reading the back: "Drug trafficking! Arson! Oooooh, attempted murder! Domestic violence! Now I am partial to that!" Leo makes for an awkward escape, but as soon as he stands up, Windom slams him in the back of the knees with the aforementioned synch-free flute, and Leo hits the floor. Windom puts the multitasking flute to Leo's throat and makes with the threats: "Well, Leo! I've cleansed your wounds! You're on the mend! I've removed the proverbial thorn from your paw! Ha ha ha! Leo! Leo the Lion! Rooooar!" Jeez. If he wanted to be any more of a cliché villain, he could have at least gone and tied Leo to some nearby train tracks and stood off to the side rubbing his palms together while a black-and-white locomotive chug-a-chugged down on his prey. Windom ties a necklace around a struggling Leo's neck. He stands up then, gleefully informing Leo, "Now come over here! I've made you some gruel!" Of course he did. Windom ought to go ahead and have some too, for it might satiate his need to continue recklessly chewing down the small plot of scenery the ABC set people have handed over for this one last corner of soundstage that hasn't been permanently co-opted by those opportunistic boys from Coach. Windom hits a button and Leo's necklace, and what is apparently a shock collar goes into overdrive. Leo screams. Windom feeds him gruel. Awwww.