She lets him talk about the power until the bus comes, but she just can't resist. Daredevil Girl glints around her latte straw. "...That said, you never know what could happen in the future." She grins, nastily and lovingly, and he slaps the coffee out of her hands. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he says, eliciting cheers, and she blows the rest of it through the straw and into his face, and that's détente for now: We can pretend the bone exists or not, but I'm never dropping the one I've got.
Back in the motel Andy is extravagantly bitter, tossing himself around the room like a kindergartener in need of a nap. "Your mom won't release me," he not-really-explains to Shane, and then Nancy starts packing up. Why are they leaving? Well, according to Uncle Andy, it's because he was "starting to find his own thing," and she had to ruin it. And secondly, because Silas fucked up the plates. "We're on the run now, honey. It's what we do." It's what they've always done. Exits exist for eminent egress.
At the door are the Mommies, suddenly; Nancy answers with a confused smile and when they ask if she's "the grandma," Shane busts loose. "You cunts followed me?"
Nancy excuses herself and holds the door closed, staring Shane down. "We don't use that word." Grandma? "No, cunt. Or grandma. We don't use either. Can you deal with whatever this is?" That funny little Nancy move as she heads back to her frenzied packing, those hands like birds. Andy reminds her that he has the Power again and she nearly laughs out loud. "I know you do," she grins, like Kish just notified her he pees standing up.
Heading out again, to get more money and a new car from that mysterious place she always pulls these things when she has to. "Or to take a train to some quaint New England seaside village and leave you all for good. I haven't decided which." One of the Mommies, at the door, tries to be helpful -- "I drink too, sometimes" -- and Nancy just rolls her eyes, directing them to Randy and the Power.
Joe the awful concierge makes fun of her thinking that the gay ice-dancer's dad would ever give her an advance, and hisses: "Here's an idea. If you need money, make your fucking drops. You got more stuff, right?" And just like that, ass-pull complete. Little envelopes of cash all over the hotel, just waiting for her to snag and bag them for her escape. She heads out to find them, like a demented Easter bonnet, but they're missing and she can't raise Joe on the walkies. It's tense and kind of confusing for a second, but then she gets to the fourth one and there's Latrice, grinning madly, tucking cash into her apron.