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After the police cleared the Centennial Bridge, the odd woman who claimed to be an FBI agent rushes into the McGee home, probably expecting to find the organization’s second-in-command with three dead bodies.

Instead, she takes a punch square in the face.

This one doesn’t feel as good to Poppy as the time she punched her lech of a CO when he grabbed her ass, but it’s close.

“All this for your dead mobster boyfriend?” Poppy asks.

Dazed, Fincher reaches for her firearm, but Poppy gives her another Mike Tyson–worthy jab to the nose and she’s down on the floor. Poppy kicks Fincher’s gun away and examines the woman, who holds her hands to her bloody face.

“Or was it for the money O’Leary paid you?”

Fincher doesn’t reply.

Poppy continues: “And I looked up all that nonsense about studies about tall people, suicides, and ‘coupling’ and the rest of it. It’s all ripped off from Malcolm Gladwell books. You need a new schtick. Anyway, I guess I’m a Holy Fool after all.”

A group of agents bursts into the living room, led by KBI agent Chantelle Luna.

Poppy smiles and says, “Arrest this bitch.”