Hairspray and a .45

Miami isn't everything Clementine imagined it might be. It's a little grittier, a little less tropical, and there are lots of chicks running around in bikinis. Too much competition.

She stretches and yawns as she lies in the bed - the in Sam's words, "borrowed" bed, the one belonging to the as-of-yet-unseen "Mikey". The loft is spartan, but comfortable.

Breakfast is on her mind when the door opens, and she tenses in Sam's grip.