So last week I predicted that the whole glass box/TV metaphor would be Lynch' most on-the-nose symbolism during the series, but a sequence in its third episode not only bests it but retrofits it as an seminal example of polished subtlety. Hawk, Andy, and Lucy sit around Twin Peaks' police station table bestrewn with files and evidence from Laura Palmer's murder investigation and Agent Cooper's subsequent disappearance, poring over them to find the elusive 'missing' McGuffin, until Lucy remembers that she's eaten one of the chocolate bunnies that were also populating the table. Is that's what's missing? Hawk, ever an Adonis of consummate patience, momentarily breaks his perennial composure to grumble that it's "not about the bunny." He's then struck, as with an earth-shattering epiphany; "is it about the bunny?" He tos-and-fros between conviction in the idea's absurdity, and a mindblown hesitancy. It would be ludicrous if it was about the bunny, it just can't be. Can it?

This fastidious overanalysis is slapstick silly, a fleeting call-back to the 90s quirkiness, but also - obviously - a reflection of the Lynchian viewer's preoccupation with extrapolating meaning from every line of dialogue, body expression, camera angle, postscript edit, or image; no matter how seemingly trivial. Such parody of your fanbase boasts exceptional confidence, not to mention an exhibition of his tangible glee in testing the viewer's patience. That this five minute extract is bookended by fifty of the most surreal and inscrutable parlance of Lynch's career.

The opening scenes - marginally decoloured for effect because the imagery wasn't nightmareish enough apparently - involve eyeless women electrocuting themselves and falling into the abyss, Major Briggs' head celestially floating through space notifying Cooper (pre-escape from the Black Lodge) that "Blue rose" (yip, I don't either... OH HANG ON THAT'S AN IMAGE FROM FIRE WALK WITH ME... but I still don't'), and the most sinister looking fireplace my innocent young eyes have ever looked upon. Cooper escapes the lodge through a plug socket and replaces his secondary doppelganger (Dougie) in our material reality, who had just thrown up (presumably after exposure to the new Liam Gallagher single) some clinically vile goo; importantly, an artificial doppelganger assumedly manufactured by Bob-as-Cooper to preclude his own return to the Lodge. Was this entire sequence layered with meaning, imbued with every clue necessary to unravel Lynch's mysteries, or just a twisted red herring syncopating Cooper's return and that's literally it?

Once Cooper returns, with the prostitute Jade, we discover hitmen have been employed to kill Dougie (now Cooper), and a prolonged stint in a casino demonstrates nothing except Cooper's mind has regressed to an infantile state of comprehension, giddily engaged by bright colours and deafening noises.

Other stuff that happened? Jacoby spray-painted some shovels, and we had some slight development in #GlassBoxGate with the return of Albert and Cole entering the series as the FBI's investigation, and their work on the glass box - and ensuing discovery of Coop's re-emergence - could begin tying the show's so-far divergent threads together. Though the collision course of Evil Coop and Normal Coop looks to be the crux of the central plotline. That's something I'm confident in. I think.

The episode - structurally, narratively, symbolically - felt like a beguiling exercise in trolling, Lynch stretching his credibility with even his most avid fans to its limit, and I'm still loving every second of it.

Catch up with Kieran's thoughts on episodes 1 and 2 by heading here.