Hank finds some pushpins scattered around and, since every other romance flashback has immediately preceded a scene where that thing is the next thing that happens, he can be forgiven for suddenly tearing off into the street like an idiot, Hansel and Greteling his way across the campus and across New Jersey and across the whole world just picking up thumbtacks. Guess what, it wasn't Jacinda. It was White Vincent. The guy everybody is looking for, that they find every episode, just like Carmen Sandiego! Guess this show is over now, huh?

WHERE IN THE WORLD IS WHITE VINCENT YOU GUYS

White Vincent: "So you found me again. Tell me, Kommandant, was it the thumbtacks or your very useful skills of believing everything people tell you no matter how dumb?"
Hank: "It was both, White Vincent!"
White Vincent: "I guess just like in every other episode, we should chat. Cross your fingers I don't get suddenly bonkers."
Hank: "Sure, I've got time."
White Vincent: "How and where did you meet your wife? Are your memories real or are you just a clone of a holy Nazi man?"
Hank: "We met at this real-life clock that was a very big deal despite being even worse at being a clock than this show is at being a show."
White Vincent: "That's so cool how everything is always clocks."
Hank: "It also has a scary locust on it."
White Vincent: "That's so cool how this episode suddenly it's also locusts. Hang on, I feel like I'm about to get bonkers suddenly."

Vincent goes suddenly bonkers. One of his Nazi eyeballs pops out and he starts grabbing at Hank's clone Nazi eyeballs and it's kind of amazing:

"We both understand the shame of the masquerade, but I've come to offer you solace, deliverance. SHOW ME YOUR EYEBALLS! SHOW ME THE FLAW, HANK! I WANT TO SEE THE FLAW!"

FBI Lady suddenly unloads a clip in White Vincent's direction, so he vanishes into the ether and reappears in a van on the other side of a random gate in this abandoned building on Princeton acreage and, because she is an out-of-control woman who needs to remember her place, she is reduced -- gun in hand, okay -- to pawing the air through the gate like an actual zombie.