the plan.
Shit, shit, shit.
We can't do anything.
We're fucked, man. Fuck.
- Fucked, man!
- Barris...
...what about the super-secret
surveillance cameras?
- The what?
- The doodads, man.
Oh, yes, of course. Right, of course.
How could I have forgotten?
This should be extremely informational
at this point.
I believe this will tell us a great deal.
Although it probably wouldn't have
proven to be that important.
Let me guess: Didn't record.
Allow me to suggest that it's highly likely
that the tow truck was bugged...
...thus affording them ample time and
opportunity to deploy an operative...
...to diffuse and otherwise erase
the evidence obtained.
But we have no other recourse,
in view of their evasive tactics.
I mean, there is, of course, one thing you
could do, Bob, although it would take time.
Sell the house and move out?
But hell, this is our home.
You could make a profit.
On the other hand, you might have to
take a loss on a quick sale.
I know a good realtor.
What reason should I give for selling?
They always ask.
Can't tell the truth.
You shouldn't tell the truth...
Why can't we tell the truth?
We put an ad in the L.A. Times.
Modern, three-bedroom tract house...
...with two bathrooms
for easy and fast flushing...
...high-grade drugs stashed throughout
all rooms, included in sale price.
It could actually increase the value.
But they might call and ask
what kind of drugs are stashed...
...and we don't know,
it could be anything.
Prospective buyers might inquire
as to the quantity.
And we don't know at this point.
It could be ounces of weed or pounds of
heroin, or hits of E or killer caps of D.
Hey, you guys.
Fuck! Jesus.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
I came in, like the note said.
It didn't say when
you were gonna get back, so I just...
I just sat around for a while
and ended up crashing.
- Love your sweater.
- Just... Don't touch me.
Man, you guys were
making so much noise.
- Sorry.
- It woke me up.
Did you smoke a joint
before you crashed?
Yeah.
Otherwise, I can't ever sleep.
You know,
you guys should seriously think about...
...maybe locking the doors
when you leave.
Otherwise you could get ripped off
and it'd be your own fault.
This is all your fault.
Did I hear you say
you were gonna sell the house?
Or was that, you know, me dreaming?
Because what I heard sounded weird.
Yeah, we're all dreaming.
Quiet. Steady. Steady.
Kidney. Kidney. Kidney.
So the information from the holo scanners
installed in Arctor's house...
...are transmitted back here,
to station 12-879.
This'll be your new
home away from home, pal.
It's pretty intuitive.
You'll just be watching and
scanning through recorded information.
You can go live, of course,
but that tends to be excruciatingly boring.
And then, you see
where these holos are placed?
What would be great is if they ever
need servicing or changing out...
...you could do that yourself
while no one else is around.
But wouldn't you then see me
on the tapes doing that?
No. For that, you just edit yourself out.
But be sure to include yourself in the tapes
from time to time...
...because if you systematically
edit yourself out...
...we can deduce who you are through
the process of elimination...
...whether we want to or not.
I'm not sure I exactly...
We take it for granted that you are
one of the individuals...
...that are in Arctor's circle of roommates
and friends that frequent the house.
I mean, undoubtedly, you're either
Jim Barris or Ernie Luckman...
...Charles Freck...
...even Arctor himself.
Hell, you could be Donna,
for all I know.
As my superior,
I figure you'd know all this stuff.
How the hell would I know?
I'm just a little guy behind a big desk.
You'd have to go way up the food chain
to access that kind of info.
You know, instead of me
doing any maintenance...
...send someone to the house
once a month, in uniform...
...and have him say, "Good