Down in the brig, Starbuck is doing push-ups. "This looks familiar," quips Apollo. Ooh. Dirty! She jumps up to greet him with a smile, and her heavy breathing only adds to the serious porno vibe this entire scene is giving off. "Sorry I wasn't there to greet you with the rest of squadron, big boy," she adds. Whoa! What kind of movie is this, anyway? But wait, it gets worse: "Did they kiss your ass to your satisfaction?" she asks. Ew. In her defense, however, that is a valid question on this ship. The actor playing Apollo, by the way, is totally the illicit love child of Corin Nemec and Mark Wahlberg, which is another movie quite a few of you would probably like to see. They chat about how she ended up in the brig again, and Starbuck describes her crime as "striking a superior asshole." Then they discuss the fact that they haven't seen each other in two years, since the funeral of Apollo's brother Zak. Aww. I remember Zak. Apollo blames Dad for his death, and even Starbuck gives the boy grief for not respecting the old man like everyone else does. All right, seriously. What the hell is Olmos slipping into the ventilation shafts on this ship? Or do they just keelhaul the people who fail to express their undying love for the guy at least once every fifteen minutes? "Zak was my brother," snots Apollo. "And what was he to me?" retorts Starbuck. "Nothing?" "Um, Jessie's girl?" offers Apollo. "Except, of course, that would be what you were to him, and besides, only the people who know that Rick Springfield played Zak in the original will get it, and now I've gone and over-explained the whole thing and killed the joke. Sorry." He does, however, remain unrepentant in the face of her endless proselytizing for the Cult of Olmos, and Starbuck ends the scene by threatening to fist…er, "strike another superior asshole." Bamp chicka bamp bamp.
Caprica. Number Six has made herself at home in Baltar's condo, and then the camera spins around to reveal Baltar himself, asleep in bed next to some random ho. Six wakes them up, and totally ignores Baltar's sleazy attempts at explanation. She twice orders the hussy to "get out," but fails both times to add the simple "now" that would have guaranteed this mini-series an A+ grade. Oh, Ron. Have you learned nothing from our time together? Once the bimbo is gone, Baltar climbs out of bed and goes into full-on weasel mode. He also slips on sweatpants and a robe to do it, for which I'm eternally grateful (StR = 2,172, but I'm adding an arbitrary 500-point penalty for the "Get out. Now." thing). He tries to tell her that he's just can't help himself, but Number Six isn't interested in excuses. In fact, she doesn't really seem to be interested in anything at all, because the writers have nothing for her to say here and the scene just ends on a weird close-up of her nostrils. The hell?