Sharon answers her phone in the middle of the night.
Motel room. The cops are there. Jaye and the lady are sitting on the bed. Jaye asks the woman if she trims her toenails with pliers. The woman has one overly-made-up black eye. Sharon shows up and asks Jaye what is wrong with her.
Zoom down to the street, where Jaye and Sharon are walking. "You're twenty-four!" Sharon tells us. "'Troubled teen' is no longer flattering on you." Jaye tells Sharon it was nice talking to her and tries to walk off, but Sharon hurls her shoe at Jaye, hitting her on the back of her head. "Ow! Oh, that was dramatic," Jaye whines. Sharon tells Jaye to grow up: "Arrested for disorderly conduct? Really, though." Jaye screeches that the woman hit her first. Sharon says she can't imagine why anyone would want to hit Jaye: "And fainting at work? What is that about? Are you starving yourself again?" Jaye: "Why are you being such a cow? You're my sister." Those two sentences don't really work together, nor do they make much sense in response to what Sharon just said, but I think something must have been cut from the scene and they just wanted to get to this part where Sharon says that Jaye tells people she and Sharon aren't related. Jaye says that she only did that once. "It was Grandpa's wake," says Sharon. Jaye tells her she always has such a bug up her ass. Sharon asks Jaye how many people she called before she called Sharon. "Five. No, six. You were the only one home." Sharon gets into her SUV and performs the one bit of physical comedy that made me like this episode. She yanks and pulls on the seat belt, but it won't budge, so she has to totally Zen out for a second so that she can ease the belt over her lap. Hee. Sharon drives away, revealing a small girl standing in the parking lot. "Thanks for finding my mom's purse," she says to Jaye. Jaye, who has no idea how to smile, sneers a bit before saying, "You're welcome." The little girl walks away.
The Barrel. Jaye's friend asks what happened to her. Jaye complains that she was attacked by a middle-aged Texas hausfrau during an act of kindness. ["That woman was no Texan. She's a Bad Canadian Actor; I've seen her in eight dozen Canadian commercials." -- Wing Chun] The friend asks Jaye why she was performing an act of kindness. "Just wanted to see what it was like," says Jaye. She asks if crazy people know they're crazy. The friend asks if she means crazy-insane, or crazy like the time the friend put a videocamera in her house and pretended she was on Big Brother. Jaye says that when you think you're crazy, you're really not. She tells her friend that a smooshed-faced wax lion has been talking to her. The friend says it's natural to embody the world around us with consciousness: "It's all that tree-hugging crap." She says it's like when Native Americans -- "Indians," Jaye corrects her. It's like when Indians says that everything has a soul. The wind, your cell phone, little smooshed-face lions. They all have souls. Jaye says it opened its mouth and words came out. It blinked. Jaye says it's upsetting. The friend repeats again that everything has a soul, and that Jaye has been repressing that notion. She says that when you repress something, it comes back "all crazy and pissed off." Jaye asks if that means she's not crazy. "I don't know," the friend says. "Maybe." She leaves to deliver more drinks, and Jaye stares at nothing as she sips her own.