Dale takes a long draw off his cigarette, looks left, looks right, absent-mindedly ashes his cigarette into his beer.

He then narrows his eyes as a little old woman with small glasses and large hair across the street and two houses down slowly waddles down her drive way and to her car.  Though she seems oblivious Dale motions to his eyes and then to her.

"I see you Agent Debra," he whispers, "...I see you."

He turns his head back to Hank and begins, "5 Geeeee Hank," he brings the cold can of Alamo up to his lips and takes a victorious gulp before turning green and coughing up ashy beer into the alley.  He regains his composure and takes another sip.

"It's how they're trying to control us, like damn robots."