Morning, again.

Nigel is back with the ten Secret Servicemen waiting for Alex. Nigel is still rather glum over losing Caribbean near-victim Claudette, who's disenchanted with Britain, and is leaving it to move to America… and to be with her fiancé. Nigel's chances to begin a relationship with this warm recipient are gone, for she's engaged to marry somebody else.

Alex and the Droogs tried to cheer him up last night by informing him all isn't lost: He's still got the 'pink-haired devotchka' to fuss with in the morning – to Nigel's total displeasure…

This is exactly what happens as Nigel is waiting for Alex to arrive.

'Miss Pink Hair', initially, cheerily walks down the stairs to the lobby with her familiar gym bag. Of course, she politely greets the ten Servicemen, first.

However, the moment she sees Nigel standing over by the pillar, near the mural, his arms folded and with a somber expression, she becomes disgusted. So does Nigel upon sight of her.

"Oh, God!", he groans aloud, rolling his eyes.

"Christ! You were just here last night!", she complains.

"And what of it?", Nigel fires back at her. "Don't you have a flight to catch? – you and that blasted 'overnight bag' you're forever carrying!"

As expected, Nigel and 'Miss Pink Hair' approach each other, bickering.

"Well! Guess who's the busybody, today? Why, it's the 'store mannequin' from Harrod's, modeling another of your damned suits! Yesterday, it was pinstripes! Today, it's solid print! Show-off!"

'Miss Pink Hair' scowls at him. Nigel smirks, snorting:

"You like what you see? A 'courtesy' from the State!"

"So, it's from the State! Big deal! All due respect to your Servicemen: You look more 'plastic' than real! At least us 'poor', working-class persons keep it real! Did you run out of the display window to come here, I wonder?"

"You're quite a chatterbox, aren't you, 'Madame Firebrand'? 'Miss Typewriter'! – Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat! – Was that 60, or 80 words per minute you just did? I lost count!", Nigel remarks, glaring at her.

"Oh, I talk too much? I just speak my mind, 'Lord Smartass'!", the devotchka gleefully retorts. "As I've said: I keep it real!"

Nigel is regarding Miriam with his cold steely gaze. His sleek black suit and black overcoat stands out over Miriam's mid-length black winter coat, her jeans, and black boots. She's nicely dressed; but she's, obviously, no match against Nigel's attire! Then, again, she could care less what he wears.

Perhaps Nigel is studying this devotchka's simple get-up as she is of the working-class. And he's of the (oppressive) State, with his classy, sleek elegant suits - along with his arrogance. He's aware Miriam is throwing that remark at him.

"Go on! Be on your way to work, 'Madame Gadabout'!", Nigel remarks, dismissing her.

"I will, 'Lord Smartass'… after I go to the pay phone at the corner, and call Harrod's to report a 'runaway store mannequin' from the display window! Oh! How should I describe you to the manager, 'mannequin'? Are you real? Or are you plastic?", 'Miss Pink Hair' asks him.

'Miss Pink Hair's blue-gray eyes glint directly at Nigel's steely hazel ones. He crosses over to her, and stands before her.

"Which am I, Madame? Do you care to find out?", he asks her, 'in turn'.

Nigel's cold eyes bore into hers as he makes his challenging inquiry.

'Miss Pink Hair' backs away from him a little.

Nigel is somber – yet content – he made the dark pink-haired fireball uneasy.

The devotchka, however, 'shakes it off'.

"I'd rather drown myself!", she retorts, glaring Nigel back in his eye.

Nigel now seems a bit startled at her biting response. Was she being serious? Is he that bad for her to prefer…?

Strangely, 'Miss Pink Hair', seeing Nigel's reaction, felt she was a bit too strong with her early retort. She 'softens' it with a follow-up comment:

"… in drink, first!"

Nigel becomes angry. Now, she'd rather be drunk than find out if Nigel is 'real'?

"You bloody cantankerous firebrand!", he retorts as the devotchka smiles, having provoked him. "You enjoy annoying me, don't you?"

"Sure! Why not? It's a pleasure seeing and hearing you yell like that!", she counters.

"Welly welly welly welly well, Nige!", a familiar voice cheerfully greets the familiar bickering pair – who now turn in the direction of the staircase.

Alex is smirking as he walks down the stairs.

"Good Morning, Missus! 'Miree-Mir!", he greets 'Miss Pink Hair'.

"Good Morning, Alex", she replies.

Alex strides over to the odd couple, who seem to be forever at odds with each other.

"It's all 'back-to-normal', eh, Nige?", he playfully tells Nigel. "It seems like you've gotten over the 'Island sharp' from last night! See? You've got this one, still! – Your girlfriend?"

Nigel and the devotchka regard Alex as if he were from another planet.

"WHAT?", they both exclaim in shock and horror.

The devotchka heads toward the Exit.

"Bye, Alex! I'm out of here!", she comments.

"Viddy you, Missus!", Alex tells her.

"Yes, goodbye, 'Madame Firebrand'!", Nigel tells her. "Go catch your 8 AM flight from Heathrow to JFK!"

The devotchka turns in Nigel's direction.

"Geez! What a pity that's not the case! Because I'm sure I'll find you here, again, when I come back this evening!", she replies.

Alex rubs it in.

"Oh, he'll be here, Missus!"

"God! What torture!", she groans.

"Good! That's what you get for annoying me!", Nigel retorts.

"Oh, shut up! And have a great day!", she rebuts.

The devotchka and Nigel exchange their glares with each other. He 'came back' at her; and she 'came back' at him. She's gone.

The males are alone, again.

Alex and the Servicemen are sniggering. Nigel is just disgusted.

"God! Already, that bleeding woman just gave me a headache! The 20 minutes we stood there arguing! – and her mouth going 50 miles per hour! That blasted parrot!", Nigel complains, massaging his temple.

"Shall I get some pain meds for you, Nige?", Alex offers. "I'll ask Peg…"

"No, no, Alex. Thank you", Nigel politely declines. "I have tea and aspirins in the limo. Come on, Alex. Let's get to the limo, shall we?"

"I take the bus, Brother!", Alex 'reminds' him. He smirks.

Nigel now remembers.

"Oh, yes, yes! – See what that damned woman caused?"

Nigel has started to raise his voice in anger due to 'Miss Pink Hair' bickering with him, earlier.

Alex is laughing.

"Calm down, Nigel. You'll make your pain worse if you yell!", he reminds Nigel.

Later, as the State entourage drive to Alex's workplace, Nigel relaxes after taking his aspirins.

During the ride, he does ponder about the altercation he had with that 'cantankerous' dark pink-haired devotchka. She challenged him by calling him a 'store mannequin' in his suit. Then inquired if he were 'real', or 'plastic'.

He put the question to her, if she cared to find out, as he came toward her.

The devotchka nervously backed away from him, at that point…

Nigel wonders about that particular incident. Why did she ask him that question? Why did he ask her his question, in turn? Why did he come toward her like that, making her nervous? – Nigel didn't intend to 'bully' her, as she's a female; and he's of the State, and he's a man…

Were there 'hidden meanings' behind their questions… and their actions, which followed?..

Nigel gradually lapses into a blank state.

"Mr. Holland! Mr. Holland, Sir! Wake up!"

Nigel feels himself being gently shaken. He opens his eyes, and sees Colin and two other Servicemen in the back seat before him.

"Colin! Did I drop asleep?", Nigel asks him, trying to get his bearings.

"You did, Sir. We're outside of Alex's workplace, Sir", Colin replies.

Nigel trains his sleepy hazel eyes at the building on his left.

"Oh. OH! – All right, then!", Nigel concludes. He finally discerns where he is, now.

Nigel carefully prepares to come out of the limousine. Colin and the Servicemen assist him.

For now, Nigel forgets about the incident with him and that dark pink-haired devotchka, and the odd behavior that followed between them.