“Brad Wesley picked me,” Dalton tells Dr. Elizabeth Clay, “and when he did, he fucked up. I’m only good at one thing, Doc: I never lose.” The thing to pay attention to here is that Dalton has rarely, if ever, sounded like more of a loser than he does right here and now. His tone of voice is clipped, nasal, truculent. His body language and facial expressions are those of a man who, contrary to what he’s saying, feels he has an enormous amount to prove, and is trying to bluster his way into confidence that he can do so. He’s also, it should be said, being a huge dickhead to the one that he loves and who loves him. She’s there simply to ask him not to put himself in a life-threatening contest of wills with her insane ex-husband, and he’s taken this as an opportunity to whip out his dick and measure it in front of her.

Something’s got to give.

One of the reasons it’s easy to tell that Dalton isn’t holding a cigarette at the start of his confrontation with Dr. Elizabeth Clay, despite the appearance of one in his hand by the end of it, is the positioning of his arms. They’re crossed above his stomach, and stay that way as he turns toward her, ranting and raving about how he’s seen the likes of Brad Wesley many, many times. I can’t say that I’ve seen the likes of Dalton many, many times, at least insofar as I’ve never argued with a shirtless man who walks around with his arms crossed like he’s in a straitjacket. It looks very, very weird, especially when combined with his petulant tone of voice and jut-jawed, neck-straining body language.

But Dalton is in a straightjacket, isn’t he? One of his own making. He refuses to quit the town because of his feelings for the Doc and his anger towards Brad Wesley. But he also refuses to listen to the Doc, who’s telling him to forget his anger towards Brad Wesley and just get the hell out of there. He’s staying behind for the sake of someone who wants him to leave. His motives are crisscrossed, just like his arms.

While Dalton is busy ranting and raving, smoke starts wafting up from below the frame. Dalton’s got passion in his pants and he ain’t afraid to show it, but though you’d be forgiven for thinking that’s the source of the smoke, I’m afraid the truth is more prosaic: a continuity error sees him smoking a cigarette toward the end of the conversation but not at the beginning. At no point does he move anyplace where he could conceivably have picked up an (already lit) cigarette after appearing at the window without one in his hand—trust me, I’ve looked. That said, isn’t it marvelous that at some point during the filming they thought what this scene needed was for Dalton to be shirtless, sulky, and smoking? The trifecta, if you will? Given what’s about to occur—without spoiling it, Dalton will soon find he has pressing business elsewhere, without the time to extinguish a cigarette on the way to attending it—the “give him a cigarette” decision could well have led to him accidentally burning down his barn. But by god we want our hero to be a tough guy, and tough guys smoke. Shirtless. In their dancing pants. While they whine. While their girlfriends yell at them. In their (highly flammable) barn loft apartment.

Childish, petulant, angry, sulky, and frightened, Dalton is no longer himself—or is it that he’s become too much himself? Either way, gone are the minimalist barbs that undid verbal sparring partners like Morgan and Horny Steve earlier in the film, “opinions vary,” “is she?”, and so on. When he detects Dr. Elizabeth Clay’s presence in his apartment, apparently his cooler-sense tells him that this time she’s not there to unzip her pants and get junk-on-junk without kissing first. Rather, she’s there to tell him to put a stop to the blood feud with her ex-husband Brad Wesley by getting the hell out of Dodge. What is his preemptive-strike quip this time around? “Little late for a house call, don’t you think?” Because she’s a doctor, get it? Not his best work.

But listen to his delivery and there’s more emotion and meaning in the line than you might realize. When he says “don’t you think” he emphasizes think, hitting the terminal -nk like a light slap to the face. It’s his way of displaying his neck frill and saying to the Doc what he said to Wade Garret: “Leave me alone.” He doesn’t particularly care what she thinks.