As Homer goes into the house, Mrs. Parrish crumples into the arms of Wilma.
Mr. Parrish holds the screen door open for Homer as he steps inside the house, smiling.
In the cab, Al and Fred ponder Homer’s homecoming.
“You gotta hand it to the Navy,” says Fred. “They sure trained that kid how to use those hooks.
“They couldn’t train him to put his arms around his girl,” replies Al. “To stroke her hair.”
“Is it the next turn up here?” asks the cabbie.
“Yeah, the next turn on the left,” says Al. He nervously slaps his palm with his fist. “Hey, Fred – – why don’t we drop you first?”
Fred smiles. “No, you’re next,” says Fred. “And we’re not going back to Butch’s for a drink, either.”
“Feels as if I were going in to hit a beach,” says Al.
The taxi makes a left turn, and pulls up in front of an impressive six-story apartment building.