Ellis Tate is not in the yearbook that Schiff left on the counter; the yearbook contains no pictures of Ellis Tate; the ambiguously gendered Ellis Tate is unpictured and absent on that day. The mystique! Nancy puts some formula in a bottle and asks Stevie to brainstorm moving a bunch of hash in a hurry, but he is just a baby and so he's no fuckin' help, but then the act of putting the formula in a bottle inspires her to... Invent a new drug entirely? I'm confused by this storyline but you know, I don't know anything about drugs. So maybe this is a trend or was at some point a trend. Maybe it's something the angry writer heard about at a poker game while he was high, and we're going to pretend it's real. Could be any of those. I guarantee you that this episode was written by somebody who loves poker and believes that poker skills are an indicator of masculinity. The signs are there.
Shane tries out names: "Silas Guinard. Mike Guinard!" Silas gets nervous and they fight out the same thing they've been trying to get us to fight out all year: Well, Andy has light hair, not that he's Silas's dad but maybe there is something going on, genetically, recessive or something, they haven't been in school in a very long time and if you don't know anything then everything's up for debate, but then if it's not that he's blonde like Andy then what is it? Why doesn't he have a Jewfro like Grandpa Lenny? Silas points out that Schiff is out to lunch, like, Lars could be black for all we know, and Shane makes a sub-Doug joke ("It's Lars, not DeLars") and they're on little electric scooters from Skymall, riding toward Lars's house, and when they get there Shane knocks on the door and Silas freaks out and Shane asks about the car Lars is selling and Lars, who looks not unlike Silas Botwin -- and laughs about how he ordered two scooters just like those from Skymall but they never arrived, which is to say they were never delivered by his postman, Mr. Schiff, who owns two scooters from Skymall -- runs off to get the keys, teeth brightly shining, and when Shane points out the resemblance and Silas tells him to go to hell, Shane gets a semi-okay joke: "Yeah, Helsinki!" Take what you can get.
I like this, this is interesting, and Nancy's pretty much adorably delighted throughout this entire scene: Andy constructs a drink around the hash with the delicate touch and subtle layering of a chef: "It's got to lift you up, but not too high or too fast. Then, once afloat, it must keep you there, with a steady hand, all night. And then once the complete experience has run its course, it has to gently lay you back, to a peaceful and restful sleep." One part grain alcohol -- and I think the script thinks a "part" is a unit of measure, because there aren't any other "parts" in this recipe, so why you gonna use words you don't understand -- a dash of hash, a hint of Red Bull, a soupçon of super secret ingredient (Schiff's heart medication) and before you know it, Doug's drinking something that, if there is a Jesus and His love is truly awesome, will cause Doug to shit out his eyeballs and die right here in front of us. There's your peaceful restful sleep.
Car talk, car talk, won't-get-very-far talk. Lars is a nice guy, wants to assure them that he's giving them a good deal and what to watch out for, et cetera. Silas sort of desperately wants the guy's approval, either way, because he seems like a normal man, like the man Silas is growing into. The car is red and, like its current owner, trashy and sportscarish. Lars admits that his girlfriend wants him to get rid of his ride because it was a pussy wagon at some point, and Silas finally intuits the situation and begs off even pretending to buy it: "I don't think I can buy something you're not really ready to sell." This flips some kind of switch in Lars's head and he decides that he isn't going to sell the car after all, because he loves it and -- get a load of this concept no Botwin has ever heard of -- you don't always have to do what chicks tell you to do. "Especially fat chicks!" Shane agrees, coming out of the house (after, I hope, seeing pictures of Lars's fat girlfriend inside) secretly having stolen a comb from Lars's bathroom: "DNA, my brother. Or should I say half-brother?"
Doug, how is your penis? Good to know. He gets Nancy to prod it with a spatula and then tries to dance with her and then tries to dance with Andy and yells about how he's en fuego and it's all quite droll.
Okay, so Nancy takes the marvelous medicine over to visit Hooman, and they make friends, and the scheme is that she's going to put it in call-brand bottles, which can then pour shots that Hooman can sell for twenty bucks, who cares anyway, there's a scheme. It involves cool folks and the kids these days and Hooman wearing an Ed Hardy t-shirt and calling things "fierce" and explaining that "only pussies want to fuck like rabbits," and the people will be fucking like dogs. More unfunny racism, they shake hands, more unfunny racism and using words you don't really understand, the end.
But soft! Chuck Klosterman/Ellis Tate? Not actually either of those. It's instead a fellow with a whole box of files on Nancy, Andy, Silas, Shane, Stevie, the whole thing. Who knows how far back it goes and what else he knows and why he is investigating or what he is investigating, but I'm guessing he's got a video camera too, with Dean and Jill and everybody else on it. Maybe he's one of those unprepossessing total murder guys like on Damages or maybe he's a grad student doing a report on zombie-making wasp queens of America or maybe he's a police. Sure enough we know he's got a shit-eating grin when he picks up the phone and reports -- to whom? -- that he finally, finally found her. Then he goes back to day-trading, disagreeing with Pitchfork, refusing to have a Facebook account, and getting just stoned enough to say shit like "Dude, remember OK Soda?"