Cesar stares at Nancy hatefully across the kitchen table and she stares right back, tapping a hardboiled egg against the plate and refusing to blink. She's got ginger ale, yellow mustard and salt. I assume that means something, but I don't know what it is, because that combo just makes me want to hurl. She peels the egg without looking away, and puts mustard on it. When the doorbell dogs start barking, Cesar jumps to his feet: "I am through with you." She sends it right back at him, and he brings in Sucio: smaller, less adorable, and filthy. He's her new bodyguard and his name is what he is.
"Where's the dog?" asks Sucio. "Eating an egg," says Cesar, and she calls him pendejo. This is like the nastiest morning. Usually Sucio tortures -- Phil Schlatter, for starters, whose face he beltsanded off -- but now, because Cesar is done, it is Sucio who will be tortured, by Nancy. "Don't you have people to kill?" Nancy asks, hurting Cesar a little bit. Nancy gets her first whiff of Sucio, and almost barfs. "He's comfortable with his man smell," Cesar says, and tells her to live with it. Then Sucio scratches his nuts and smells his fingers. Oh damn, Sucio.
"Whatcha writin'?" asks Celia, pouring coffee for Rudolfo and still trying to worm her way into every part of his life. "Ransom notes," Rudolfo says, very serious about his work, trying to focus. She hands him his coffee and starts offering suggestions: he should type the note, he shouldn't use the word insist but instead demand everything -- he should listen, terrorism and demands are her stock in trade -- because after all, he doesn't have a list of "insists."
Rudolfo assures her he's been writing ransom notes since he was a young boy and bends to the task. "Who are we kidnapping?" she asks, and I think it's amazing at this point that we still don't know if he's the kind of revolutionary who actually does things, or if talking and thinking about doing things is the same thing as doing things. For as silly as this beat in the story is, it's deft: boys playing dress-up, boys playing at spies. He was Quinn's PoliSci teacher, talking about praxis and the revolution, before all of this started. He says they're going to kidnap the Minister of Commerce: "He has people willing to pay for him," Rudolfo says lightly, and she points out how cold it is to mention that.
Rudolfo smiles, and Celia takes the note away from him. "Some people aren't writers, some people are talkers. You talk, and I'll just write it down." Her aim is threefold: one, to actually help, two, to rewrite the note as she sees fit and thus more effectively abduct and ransom Mexico's Minister of Commerce, and three, to have a purpose. Specifically to Rudolfo's movement, but also in general. She calls him a "lost puppy," overbearing, fucking it up. "I am not a puppy, I am a man." Oh dear. Celia? Hit him. The only chance you have to stay in this shit is to hit him, right now.