In a brilliant, brilliant, brilliant re-imagining of Chekhov's much ballyhooed dramatic structure, in which the gun in last week's fourth act goes off in this week's first, we fade about halfway in (because Washington State is synonymous with "Arctic Circle" to a writer's room located in the middle of the desert, I suppose) on the face of Allegorical Pawn #2, eyes and mouth open in shock. His head is still surrounded by the giant chess piece that encases him, the chess piece still standing in the middle of the gazebo. Because Chekhov's theory for what constitutes "drama" certainly wouldn't have failed to mention the spine-tingling conventions of "chess" and "gazebo." Anyway. A team of law-enforcing personnel far larger than we're used to seeing grace the halls of the police station attends to the body because, well, I guess nothing says "sign me up for the TPPD" like "dead urchin in a chess piece." With great effort, they hoist said piece up on their collective shoulders and carry it like pallbearers at some kind of fucked-up Bobby Fischer Theme Funeral down the steps of said gazebo.
The "ruzza ruzza" of "carrying it carefully" and "not moving too fast" ensues from the gazebo and right past Cooper, Truman, and Hawk in the process of questioning a short, pasty, rather distraught-looking "The Giovanni Ribisi," who intones "oh, man" because the ratio of short and pasty actors getting acting jobs in the ten years or so is roughly equivalent to "one Giovanni Ribisi per one Hollywood." Sorry, squirt. I guess you're out of luck. But for now he'll shine, wearing his backward red baseball cap and a shirt with a skull on it and an acid-washed denim jacket because he's bad, man, as he forlornly asks Cooper, "Rusty?" Ribisi exposits that Rusty "got [him] in with the band." He's a roadie. So I guess last week's Stryper comparisons weren't really that far off base after all. And here's me, getting so weak-kneed in the presence of fame! Truman asks what they were doing in Twin Peaks, and Ribisi explains, "We were supposed to play a gig in Knife River, but a tire on the van crapped out." Cooper takes it from there: "And then you met someone." Ribisi returns the volley, explicating that a guy came out of the woods "like Big Foot or something," and Rusty went with him for the aforementioned beer Rusty wanted so badly. That sucks. What a shitty way to die. But it will provide just the necessary "when it all came crashing down" moment for Rusty And The Big Foot's Behind the Music, in which the poor, fun-loving fellow who just wanted to play in a band was ultimately done in by the final few episodes of Twin Peaks. He wouldn't be the only one killed by such a scourge, of this I assure you. Either way, Truman informs Ribisi, "We'll have to get in touch with Rusty's parents," providing the necessary catalyst for Ribisi to become sad because, well, "Rusty hated his parents. He's staying with his uncle in Moses Lake." God. Way to flip from the "K" (Knife River) to the "M" section of The Yokel's Guide To Rustic Winnebago Travel Through The Hastily Named Pacific Northwest, Volume Fifty, Ribisi. And so he continues, "We were gonna move. We were gonna move to LA." Ribisi starts to cry. Andy starts to cry. You guys think this was sad? You should have been there for the scene where the dude loses his arm and thinks he'll never drum again. Not a chess piece in sight, but I assure you it's dramatic as all get out.
Considering the Dead Guy nature of the scene, it's a little jarring when Truman, Cooper, and Andy saunter into the sheriff's station, the last of them holding two boxes of donuts, and gleefully bid Lucy a good morning. They must really hate people in bands. Lucy alerts them that there's someone with Hawk in Truman's office, whom she's never seen before but who "looks really sad." Cooper and Truman disappear to the craft services table to ponder this show's recent creative upswing and ponder what kind of convertible they're going to spend their season three bonus checks on, but Lucy calls Andy and his donuts back. He approaches her desk, and she point-blanks two waste-of-time subplots at the same time (her baby, some beauty pageant thing I've been futilely trying to ignore) with her question, "What do you know about saving our planet?" He knows "it's in a lot of trouble." She tells him that tomorrow is "D-Day…Dad Day. Tomorrow I will choose the father of my child. Deputy Andy Brennan" -- Andy smiles brightly at this option -- "or clothing salesman Richard Tremayne." Heh. I'm surprised she didn't call him "Our Returning Champion." Andy asks what all this has to do with Miss Twin Peaks, and Lucy continues that she could use the money. She regards what I guess is her stomach when she says this, but it's entirely possible she's gazing down at her Dress For Less floral blouse ensemble. Poor Lucy. She has shopped, she has shopped Strawberry today. Anyway, Lucy continues, "I have to make a speech about saving the planet, but I have no idea how to go about it. Yet." Andy says something about people throwing their beer cans in Pearl Lake and Lucy takes pen to paper immediately, so Andy goes on, "Styrofoam never dies for as long as you live." Lucy looks horrified: "It doesn't?" At which point an early-1991 McDonald's, eager to package this new "McNugget" thing they've been working on in the least environmentally-sound manner possible, reneges on their sponsorship deal with this show, and then it really has no reason left to stick around and wait for that ad revenue from PETA or TwinPeaksPIRG to start pouring right in to keep this mess alive.
Great Northern. John "Miscarriage Of" Justice Wheeler saunters through the lobby and toward the concierge's desk, wearing what looks like a maroon ones-y I wouldn't see fit to put on the target age group for people who live their infant lives in a ones-y. He asks the concierge if Audrey is back yet. No. No messages? No. He asks, "Will you send someone up to get my bags, please?" Yeah. Get his bags. To change his clothes. Or put one over his head. Whatever it takes. Just go.
Ben's office. Doc Hayward has just finished examining Ben Horne in Ben's office, and we hear Ben complain, "The insurance company sent me so many forms I could get a heart attack just lifting them," before we cut to Hayward's POV to discover that Ben is sitting on his couch. Shirtless. Gah. Get that man an any-color ones-y, and do it in a damn hurry before his decaying body gets another hour older. Please. Hayward -- conveniently having just become Ben's doctor for the first time, I guess -- assures Ben, "You're fine. It's what's in your heart you should be worrying about." Shirtless Ben (for this is his creepy naked alter ego) tells the good doctor that he knows Doc has reason to doubt him, but continues, "I'm only interested in doing the right thing for everybody." Okay, then: right arm through the hole. Now left arm. Now you're wearing a shirt! The Manboobs Of Naked Old Men that primetime TV so often sees fit to spare us are now concealed! Good, Mr. Horne. Good. Except he's still not wearing a shirt. Good Lord. Doc goes on, "Stay away from Eileen!" Ben says that he can't "as long as the lie survives," and Hayward says he applauds Ben for trying to do the right thing, but "there's nothing good about ruined lives." Knock knock. Wheeler, now in a leather jacket with an upturned collar that finally answers that persistent TV mystery, "Whatever happened to KITT's interior" enters. He shakes hands with the good doctor and topically puts foot in mouth with the unwitting, "I've met your daughter. She's a lovely girl." Hem. Haw. Shirtless. Hayward goes, and Ben finally puts on a shirt. Wheeler, just two plucked eyebrows in a sea of pressed powder skin, breaks a new revelation to Ben: "A friend of mine. He was more than a friend, he was a partner. He's been murdered." Was it Stryper? What chess piece did he turn up in and in what gazebo and where? Or maybe he, like me, was killed by manboobs. There's just no worse way to go.
Up in an attic at the Hayward house, Donna "Slim Fastest" Hayward peruses some old files and comes across her birth certificate. She's never needed a copy of this for some kind of shot or driver's license or college application or low-fat garnish before? Either way, she reads down it to discover that the "father's name" blank has been left empty. A phone rings downstairs as she folds the certificate in thirds and stumbles across a photo album containing billions of pictures of the happy Haywards, with a smiling Ben Horne lingering in the background of every shot. Nice seventies clothes and Groucho Marx mustache on Ben, y'all, but these pictures were taken, like, three hours before this scene started shooting. But God, that mustache. No wonder these are all socked under some wood plank in the abandoned attic. I would do that too if every picture of me began with the explanation, "And this was when Ben was in the Witness Protection Program." Donna's mom calls from downstairs that Hawk is on the phone and that it's "important." I wonder if Donna also finds it weird when, upon further inspection, she discovers that her birth weight was a negative integer.
Audrey's home! She walks right to the concierge's desk and picks up a number of messages, then proceeds toward Ben's office. Hawk, who has been sitting on a chair contemplating "the polluted land and how it pollutes the souls of those untarnished" (or at least that's what the writers would have us believe he's contemplating), tells Audrey that Cooper needs to speak to her at the station immediately. Star-crossed, Wheeler and Ben sit on the steps of Ben's office and discuss how Wheeler isn't coming back. Ben fears that he is "weak" without Wheeler's help, and is sorry that Audrey wasn't there to say goodbye. Wheeler hands Ben an envelope and asks him to pass it along, standing to leave. Ben calls after him, "Good luck!" Wheeler takes off without a word. Slam. And stay out.
Back at the police station, a young-ish guy with Truman-ish hair in a black leather jacket attends to Major Briggs, who is saying, "See if any of these symbols have to do with harvest schedules or ancient calendars." Mini-Truman offers, "Got it, chief," and walks past Truman and Cooper on their way through the door. Truman pats him on the shoulder and tells him, "Good work, Kappy." Wait, what? Just how many episodes did I sleep through, anyway? How did I miss the heralded introduction of "Kappy, the police station intern"? Is this being done for the spin-off potential for ABC's upcoming Kappy, The Police Station Intern? Clearly, I have many, many questions. Anyway, Briggs launches in: "Earle was the best and brightest among us. But when our attention turned from outer space to the wooded areas surrounding Twin Peaks, he became destructively obsessive." By way of example, Briggs has some Project Blue Book archival footage in the form of a black-and-white tape of Earle leaning into the camera, ranting about "a secret place where the cultivation of evil expands in exponential fashion." The Black Lodge. As directed by Darren Aronofsky. Cooper reminds us that when Earle came to Twin Peaks, everyone, including the writers, thought it was because of a personal vendetta. But, as it turns out, it wasn't. At all. Fancy that, writers. Instead, Cooper tells us, "He has insinuated himself into the lives of people I care for. He has murdered innocents. He has engaged us in subterfuge and red herring -- a fish I don't particularly care for." Wasn't that joke already used six times in Clue? Thanks. "But all of these acts are merely camouflage; he's been after something all along. The Black Lodge." He points to the chalk drawing on the blackboard and tells us all that there must be some connection between the petroglyph and the Black Lodge. Briggs says he's going to go for "a walk in the woods," which Cooper thinks is "a good idea." He's so wrong. That is such a bad idea. A close-up on The Mysteriously Unexamined Bonsai On The Desk cuts us to Windom, aurally surveying the conversation. He giggles, "I know something they don't know," and as he plays Lemonade Stand on his Radio Shack computer, Leo walks slowly up to a stack of books on top of which the shock buzzer sits and puts it in the pocket of his robe. Earle slaps away the chess board and throws some blueprints on it. Goodbye, chess game.
A woman in the Double R eats pie and watches her hand begin to shake violently. This image is never referred to or mentioned ever again. Over at a table behind her, Shelley "Central Park Northwest" Johnson and "Hi" Bobby Briggs look over Shelley's speech about the environment. Turning the topic, Bobby, looking sharp in a suit and a wont to cleanse himself for the first time in way too long, looks at Shelley and tells her, "I've been thinking about us. I know I haven't been paying the right kind of attention to you lately." Shelley smiles, "I've missed you. I miss all the things we used to do together." And oh, how I have missed watching them. Bobby loves Shelley, and so he tells her. She leans in for the kiss, just as a ringing phone from the back of the Double R signals that Shelley has an important phone call. Shelley runs toward the phone, and Bobby looks lost in love, and I almost have to excuse myself again. Damn, they're pretty.
Mayor Fossil Fuel enters the Roadhouse, where preparations for the Miss Twin Peaks set are in full swing. He ambles over to Robyn "Robyn Lively" Lively, who is sitting alone at a table, and tells her all haltingly and, oh yes, hilariously, "I've got great news." The chewing gum she likes is going to come back in style? Oh, never mind. Probably even he doesn't get that at this point. Nobody in that room does. Sars doesn't. I almost don't. Never mind. Mayor Fossil Fuel explains why he's so happy: "It's going to be Norma Jennings and Richard Tremayne. Tremayne is the third judge. It's in the bag!" Robyn Lively wants to know she's going to win for sure. Fossil Fuel tells her that all she has to do is turn on the charm and Tremayne will be won over, even going so far as to utilize the word "gams" to more successfully drive his point home. Robyn tells the mayor that she'll marry him just as soon as she wins the contest, and the mayor starts to cry in a sexual frustration that calls up the potential image of a naked old person for the second time in way too short a period.
In yet another wood-paneled conference room deep in the bowels of the sheriff's station, Cooper sits around a small card table with Donna, Audrey, and Shelley, telling them, "Each of you received a piece of this poem, each in a curious manner, along with this invitation." Donna reminds us that they all went to the Roadhouse that night, "but nobody showed up." Cooper asks if they've had any odd communication with a stranger these last few days, and they each toss out their one-sentence chance meetings with Earle in his Lon Chaney mode. Cooper shows Shelley the note with the poem and asks her to look very carefully at the handwriting. Shelley does, and her eyes are soon to widen as she incredulously gasps, "It's Leo's." Cooper tells them that they're all in danger, and sets down some ground rules about their travels to work and school. School? Where the real teenagers go? Coop. Don't be silly.
Windom Earle tells us "flee flee fleeeeeeeeeeee" and some other stuff too as Leo tidies up around the cabin in the woods. His eyes come to rest on the playing card with her face cut into it, and Earle celebrates Leo's ability to identify her, telling him, "Shelley's imminent demise is very simple, really. Shelley wins Miss Twin Peaks, Shelley dies. Maybe you'd like to help." Leo pulls the buzzer out of his robe and points it right at Earle, who smiles slightly and fakes being very, very afraid. Leo slams the buzzer and knocks himself down to the floor as Windom stands above him, laughing hysterically. Because there's no such thing as linear speech in the perpetual junior high school poetry slam that is life on Planet Windom, he tells Leo, "We are all love's fools, more or less. But you will learn as I have…the value of hate."
Audrey shares a hello and an establishing shot with Pete Martell, reminding us that he'll be essential to the action in just a moment, so thank goodness he's shown up after all, eh? As she walks through the lobby of the Great Northern and toward her father's office, the elevator doors behind her open, and out walks Wheeler. Another missed connection. The tragedy. In a very Neil Simon kind of slapsticky way. Audrey finds her way to Ben's office, and Ben ignores Audrey's question of "Where’s Jack" (who? Oh, yeah) with a small speech of his own: "While you were gone, I had the most incredible brainstorm. The Stop Ghostwood movement needs a spokesperson, someone with a highly visible profile to be able to inspire our community to action. You can do it, Audrey. As Miss Twin Peaks. You could be that spokesperson." She cracks up. But he grabs her shoulders, telling her that only she can take their message "to the people." She cuts him off again, laughing, asking him where Wheeler is. He tells her about the "tragedy in Brazil," and she runs back into the lobby, grabbing Pete and asking, "You! Do you have a car?" He has a truck. Audrey tells Pete that "that will do," and grabs his arm in a big hurry to get to the airport.
Police station again. Cooper regards the petroglyph and posits, "The symbol suggests a time." But for what? "At first I thought it was a signpost, perhaps it's an invitation." Eh? Cooper asks where the Major is, and Truman fires off the "He's dead, Jim" line of the episode in foreshadowing, "He should be here by now." Yup. Walk. Woods. Late. Dead. Surprise! Andy leaves the office to call the Major's house, and Cooper takes to looking out the window and telling Truman, "Just thinking about Annie Blackburn." Truman is surprised, seeing as he's never known Cooper's mind to wander, but his revelry concerning his new bad actress friend in town is cut short when his hand comes off the window shade and begins shaking violently. As he holds it still with the other hand, we cut to the same moment in the woods, Briggs's walk ending when he hears "Home on the Range" sing-songed crazily from behind him. He looks up to see two men in a cow costume (I'd really like to see how Windom got Leo to go so gamely along with all this after that last shock-to-the-death thing), the front one screaming, "Hello, Wilbur" before pulling out a gun and shooting a dart into Briggs's neck. Briggs falls down, and Cow Front yells, "Long time no see, Briggsy!" He laughs and laughs and laughs. Because "Briggsy" is a really funny nickname.
Annie "Yoko" Blackburn cleans the counter at the Double R and notes yet another in the continuing series of Miss Twin Peaks flyers slowly deforesting the Pacific Northwest. Cooper walks up to the counter just then and suggests, "It wouldn't hurt to give it a shot." Yes, it would. And that's precisely the reason she should dive right in head first, I'm sayin'. She asks if he would like some coffee, and as she goes to retrieve it, Cooper actually spins around on his stool like he's Archie Andrews and she's Veronica Lodge and they're about to share an ice-cream soda with two straws over at Pop's Chok'lit Shoppe. Keep it professional, Coop. Big Moose doesn't like to see you gloat. Anyway, she returns with the coffee and deadpans (oh, wait, it's just "dead"), "Something's troubling you." Yes, Cooper confirms, something is. She asks if he wants to talk about it, and he tells her that he's involved in "a fairly complicated investigation requiring my complete attention, yet I spend most of my time thinking of you." Annie concurs, "I've been seeing your face in fried eggs all this morning." I see. They banter on the nature of attraction for a moment, Yoko again sounding the ambiguous dialogue alarm as even the camera pulls so far back you can hear the Panavision operator not wanting to be responsible for any of this either, "It's hard for me. But I have faith in you. In us." Cooper thinks that they think too much. Yoko suggests that they "go bowling," but Cooper thinks that maybe dancing is a better idea. He leans in for the big kiss, but seconds after the unfortunate lip lock, Yoko knocks a plate backwards and it breaks behind her. A wildly pretentious shot of a cup of coffee noisily dripping drop after drop after drop of moody black coffee onto the floor. Lynch-pilfered over-direction: good to the last drop, y'all.
And now, the worst scene ever. Wheeler kicks his plane onto the runway as Audrey pulls up in Pete's truck, and she leaps out yelling, "Jack, stop!" He opens the plane door with the saucily rehearsed, "I guess a simple goodbye was out of the question." More kissy bad times, and she tells him, "I love you." No, you don't. It's the tight pants. They make you disoriented and woozy. It's really an easy mistake. Sadly, Audrey isn't done with the admissions, this one being the biggest non-sequitur doozy of them all: "I'm a virgin." Wheeler is as curious about her sudden need to divulge this as I am (and, assumedly, as Pete is), but gets it when she tells him, "I want you to make love to me right now." He pulls her into the jet as Pete, looking on, calms a shaking hand with another, as we have now seen three times thus far. I, too, shake violently and involuntarily at the thought of Billy Zane having any sort of touching with absolutely anyone. I'll stop complaining about the maroon pants, man. All you have to promise to do is never, ever take them off, ever. Oh, damn. See what you've gone and done?
Back in the cabin in the woods, Earle has really awkwardly tacked Briggs onto a bulls-eye, and points a spear gun at him as he opens the third degree: "When did you first see the symbol in Owl Cave?" Briggs proclaims himself "not at liberty to divulge that information." Earle fires an arrow right past Briggs's ear and takes another from a once-more pliant Leo, and Earle continues asking what the cave painting means. Not-at-liberty-to-divulge-cakes. Earle tells Leo how much he "loves the military mind" before firing another arrow that flies right into Briggs's flesh. Earle approaches the bulls-eye and starts the questioning anew: "What is the capitol of North Carolina?" Do you know? I do! I do! It's "Raleigh." But the largest city is Charlotte, and the highest point is "Mount Mitchell," standing high and proud at 6,684 feet above sea level. This has been Tar Heel State Trivia, with your host, the guy who happens to have a U.S. road atlas sitting right to him at this very moment. And now, for a rousing chorus of the Tar Heel Anthem -- okay, just kidding. But Briggs knows that it's Raleigh also, and Earle takes a moment to note that, though he admires the Major, he has no time for the truth-withholding game, plunging a needle into Briggs's chest. And then he really gets going with the questions: "When did you first see the petroglyph at Owl Cave?" Briggs knows this one: "In dreams." What kind of dreams? "I was night fishing with Agent Cooper. There was a light, a guardian beyond it. I was taken, but with my mind I still recognized the signs. There's a time. When Jupiter and Saturn meet, they will receive you." He then falls into the language of tongues, and Earle tells Leo to take him to bed. Just as long as the trend is bucked and the shirt stays on.
This scene, though, I have to say I simply adore. We're over at the Martell house, Katherine telling an as-yet-unseen presence, "His woman servant, Jones, delivered this to me shortly after he died." We pan up to find Katherine and Brother Andrew standing over the Magic Puzzle Box, Andrew stepping out of the frame and returning a moment later with a rolling pin. Wearing a terrifically ugly sweater, patterned with…come to think of it, there isn't a pattern imagined the human mind and subsequently woven on a loom not represented by that piece of fabric. I'm not loving dress-down Fridays at Brother Andrew Inc., people. Katherine explains for not nearly the first time: "No. You see, there's a secret to opening each of these boxes. And this one is about to drive me mad!" She sits down at the table with her arms forlornly folded over the box, sighing, "Oh, Andrew, tell me something good!" Andrew looks down at her with grave seriousness and replies, "Our foreign investors are chomping at the bit from Paris to Beijing." If the cadence of that line doesn't sound exactly like a song cue from the upcoming Twin Peaks Broadway musical O Brother Andrew, Where Art Thou, I don't know what is and what isn't. So sing-songily, he delivers this line. Andrew continues that Katherine will get her "golf course" on Ghostwood land, telling her that Ben was so thorough in his work when he was on the other side of the issue that it's left them with almost no work to do. "He was and is his own worst enemy." Brother Andrew then takes the box and begins pushing buttons, telling Katherine, "I'm just trying a few simple calculations." She tries to wrest it from him, but he takes it back with a grunt and pushes the symbols accordingly, telling us, "Eckhardt's birthday." But he's just pressing random symbols on the box. So Eckhardt's birthday was anchor, circle, circle, horn, arrow-with-a-line-through-it? He tries another: "My birthday." As such, feel free to call up Brother Andrew and sing accordingly on that special, special day of half-moon, line-and-crooked-line, columns, blue diamonds, and purple horseshoes. "The day the gift arrived." He clicks a few more and the box slides open, much to their mutual glee. Now I've watched this show about ten thousand times, and I have to say that the basic implausibility of this scene has made it a sentimental favorite for "most 'eh?'-inducing scene of all time, ever," and I think I continue to stand by that today. It has a secret brilliance which, like the puzzle box itself, has yet to be revealed to us. Maybe one day I'll find the right combination of suns and moons and stars and Stonehenge, and all will become clear. But I have to say, I certainly, certainly hope not. Inside the box is, well, another box, which Brother Andrew smashes with the rolling pin. Inside that box is a silver box. They make another collective "I'll drink to that" look. And they should. After all, square, anchor, line, line, line was a very good year for wine.
Great Northern. Some kind of formal dance is going on, and Cooper, tie-less, walks in to find Yoko at the bar. He takes her hand and they begin to dance, her admitting, "It's genetic memory. Mom and Dad used to dance the Lindy." Dance, dance, dance. Cooper starts to worry that he's being "too forward," but Yoko instead kisses him and coos, "I want more than a kiss." Cooper needs some clarification on that, but when she starts to respond, the mayor kills the mood by stepping up to the mic and hitting it all, "Is this thing on?" Old people. Is there no electronic device they can't look hilarious trying to conquer? I should think not. The mayor starts to welcome them to the final night of festivities leading up to Miss Twin Peaks, but the microphone doesn't work at all and stage hijinks ensue. Yoko, meanwhile, tells Cooper, "When you hold me, when we kiss, I feel safe and eager. I'm not afraid of anything you make me feel or want." They start to kiss again, just as Mayor Fossil Fuel interrupts again. Cooper says he's tiring of it all, and Yoko tells him that she might enter the Twin Peaks contest after all, telling him, "It's like a fairy tale." And, as if the magic word were needed to kick us back about twenty episodes and set us on a steamrollering course to the end of the series, Cooper finishes the thought, "And you're the queen." Queen! The lights in the place go black on a Cooper close-up, and the shot of the bumbling mayor turns into the gauzy appearance of My Giant, silently waving his arms in a warning fashion and mouthing in slo-mo, "Nooooooo!"
Pete wakes up in his truck to watch Wheeler's plane take off. Audrey steps around Pete's back, all teary-eyed, and tells us, "What a gyp. I finally meet the man of my dreams and the thing I know, he's on a plane to Brazil." Ain't that always the way? Pete reminds her that he promised he would come back, but Audrey tells us, "He promised to take me fishing, and we never did." Pete offers to take Audrey fishing, and she accepts. Wheeler's plane disappears into the air.
Briggs lies on the floor, and Leo screams just to create the illusion of mayhem inside the cabin in the woods. Earle tells us that what Cooper doesn't know is that "that cave painting is not only an invitation, it is also a map! A map to the Black Lodge!" Which cuts us right back to the Roadhouse, where Cooper breaks out of his daze and kisses Yoko straightaway. That's okay, Cooper. We tend to drift rather extravagantly whenever she begins to talk, too.
A series of panning shots follows while a tense Badalamenti chord holds steady. We start with the telltale traffic lights holding steady on red and green. Cut to the exterior of the empty Double R, then a tracking shot down the equally empty hallway of Twin Peaks High. Moody moody moody. And then, moody. Now to the hallway leading to Cooper's room at the Great Northern. The muffled sound of a phone ringing takes us to the inside of the police station, and then to a shot of moodily blowing trees deep in the woods. A pile of rocks. A bunch of grass. A light shines out of nowhere, and then another, through which an arm appears out of thin air. The arm fights its way through to this dimension, and we find that it is connected to BOB. Pan down to the rocks, between which is a collected puddle, which begins to shine red. The Dance Of The Small Man From So Long Ago kicks up for the first time since, well, so long ago. I haven't seen imagery like that utilized on this show in such rapid fire sequence since back in season one, which aired on your local ABC affiliate on or around moon, fish, star, star, line-to-circle, circle, line, fish, anchor. Remember those? Those were good times.