Gyp Rosetti and the Queen of the Harpies

S03E07

It's Easter Sunday, and various characters are celebrating the holiday in their own ways. Nucky, Margaret, and the kids attend an all-day affair at the home of Eli and his family, to the weepy delight of Mrs. Eli. The kids get along, the wives bond (though Mrs. Eli gets a clear picture of how unhappy Margaret is), Nucky even juggles for the children. More pertinently, Eli once again asks his brother to let him back into the fold. They go another round about how Eli kind of tried to have Nucky killed that one time, but after a full day of the families being so happy together, Nucky calls Eli at the end of the day and tells him he'll be co-running the warehouse with Mickey, starting tomorrow.

Richard and little Tommy have dinner at the Sagorsky place with a few other vets, all of whom get to be very uncomfortable when Sagorsky goes off on his increasingly drunken rants. He catches Tommy snooping in his dead son's bedroom, so he angrily grabs him, leading to a confrontation with an angry Richard and an upset Julia. It's terribly uncomfortable, but it leads to Richard and Julia bonding later.

Gillian clears the brothel out for a day and ends up spending it in and out of bed with Roger the Fuck Stallion. He talks big talk about her selling the mansion and them going on a cross-country spending spree, so he's reeeeally surprised when, during your standard "let me bathe you in my marble bath house approximation" role play, Gillian sticks him with a mother lode dose of heroin and drowns him in the tub. She then places Jimmy's dog tags on him, so that when he's found, she can finally have her son declared dead. R.I.P. Roger the Fuck Stallion.

Finally, Gyp Rosetti's depressingly pedestrian home life is put on display, while he focuses on making his case to Masseria that they should eliminate Luciano, Rothstein, and whomever else stand in their way. He also stops by church to rage against God, beat the local priest, and steal from the collection coffers. Delightful as ever.

It's a calm Easter Sunday in New Jersey. I know because I've seen the whole episode and life is too short to pretend otherwise. But while we're supposed to be in the dark about that fact, this opening scene of Eli Thompson skulking about the front yard of a house is supposed to be ominous. Is he planting explosives around Gyp Rosetti's house? Retrieving stolen cash he buried before being sent to prison? No, no. This is the New Eli we're talking about: devoted family man and humble striver. He's simply hiding Easter eggs around his yard, in preparation for the day's events. That's our Eli!

Elsewhere in town, Gillian Darmody does not share Eli's early-bird gumption. She answers Richard Harrow's knock at the door with a barely audible "...open," and doesn't remove her sleep mask as she speaks to him. Apparently, she's already had him clear the house of all the girls for today (Easter, it turns out, is a terrible day for business in the whorehouse community), and now she wants him to dismiss the cook for the day. In addition, Richard is taking Tommy with him to Easter dinner with the Legion men at the Sagorsky household, which promises to be an utterly non-traumatic outing. Gillian doesn't want Tommy overhearing any crude language. She then sends Richard away, as the very act of speaking has made her lightheaded. So is this grief or something? No, it's just Gillian's time of the month, and she insists on perpetuating every awful stereotype she can before this season is over. Then again, as soon as Richard is gone, Gillian pops up off the bed, removes her mask, and starts moving with some purpose.

At the Thompson house, Teddy and Emily are dressed in their Sunday finery (including a lovely hat with pink ribbons for Emily) and waiting for their parents. While they do, Emily practices reciting the names of all eight (!) cousins they're going to meet today at Uncle Eli's house. Teddy kind of sneers and asks how she can remember them all. Well, Teddy, Emily has a head start in that she recognizes that other people exist because she's not a budding little sociopath. Emily brags to Nucky when he and Margaret walk in about being able to remember all her cousins, and he says she'll make a fine politician someday. "Girls can't be politicians!" Teddy brats (really not feeling Teddy at the moment). Nucky just smiles and says, "Doesn't England have queens?" ...Okay, kind of fudging it with the "politician" angle of the English monarchy, even in the 1920s, but points to Nucky for sticking up for feminism in front of his children (a far cry from his angry retorts about that Amelia Earhart woman from the season premiere). Margaret just puts on a determined smile, plays the happy wife and mother, and says let's go meet your cousins.

By Joe R

Back at Gillian's, she's now joined in her boudoir by Roger the Love Monkey, her blond, brick house of a replacement for Jimmy. He can't stop commenting on the opulence of the house. She talks about how her husband left it to her, and how their relationship was one full of "sunlight ad shadow." At this point, Gillian could be talking about either the Commodore or Jimmy at this point, which is freaking me out. Even though she demurs that she can barely pay her bills, he says she could easily sell it and walk away wealthy. The eagerness with which Roger jumps to the idea of swimming around in her cash is not lost on Gillian. She asks if he came over just to talk about real estate. He asks how many rooms are in the house. Twenty, she says. "Get over here," he retorts, "and we'll start in this one." Well! Gillian suggests they eat first, though. He'll need his strength. Well AGAIN!

At the front steps to Eli's house, Nucky, Margaret, and Teddy wait patiently for Emily to climb the steps on her crutches. We cut to her POV and it's a rather intimidating glance up to Eli, June, and their five thousand children. June asks if they should help her up, and Margaret kindly says only if she asks for it. After a bit more effort, Emily brightly says, "Okay!" and Willie, Eli's oldest, picks his cousin up and carries her in. At which point the other Thompson cousins officially welcome and introduce themselves to Nucky, Margaret and Teddy.

Elsewhere, Richard leads Tommy up the steps to the Sagorskys. Tommy asks if this is Richard's sister's house. Richard is surprised he told Tommy about his sister, but Tommy's like, "You don't remember anything! You have a sister and a mommy and a daddy and they live on a farm." Richard's like, "Yes, in Wisconsin. And while this is Michigan Avenue, it's not the same thing." He rings the bell and asks Tommy how he looks. Tommy tells him to straighten his glasses. These two make quite a team. Julia answers the door and welcomes them both. Richard is acting very shy. He hands Julia the flowers, and from behind her, Sagorsky bellows, "Aw! Are these for me!" Oh cram it, Uncle Cockblock.

Nucky and Eli sit on the front porch, the same place they sat when Nucky informed his brother that he'd be going to prison for the murder of Hans Schroeder. Eli starts to talk about business, but Nucky just acts annoyed. He figures Eli wants to complain about Mickey and have him address it. Eli thinks they're just talking. Nucky asks for a drink, but Eli says he promised June he'd stop drinking, at least not before sundown or in the house. "I gotta tell you, it keeps your head clear," he says. Nucky, unwilling to give his brother an inch of credit, scoffs at him for preaching temperance. Eli finally says that all he wants is for them to have a nice dinner today. He doesn't have to talk about anything else. No response from Nucky.

Inside, Margaret helps Emily through saying grace, and afterward, before they get down to eating, June stops them all so she can say something. She goes into a long and probably somewhat prepared speech about how grateful they are to have Nucky back at their table, and to meet Margaret and Teddy and Emily. "What I love about spring," she says, with so much sincerity it hurts, "is how everything starts growing again. When it's all been so gray." She finally starts crying and can't finish her speech. Great shot down the table of Eli kissing his wife, fully supportive, while we look down the table at Margaret and Nucky, who have lost that kind of relationship.

At the Sagorsky's, they're joined for dinner by three men from the Legion, one of whom says grace, only to get crap from Sagorsky for the childish version he used. Sagorsky then turns to Tommy and wonders what the hell he's doing here (Julia exposits for us that Richard has been "taking care of" them lately). Sagorsky is sober enough at this point for the questioning to be playfully gruff, but you can tell from the way everybody reacts to him that they don't expect that good-natured edge to last much longer into the day. Case in point: Sagorsky moves on to discussing the reason for the holiday and the "suckers" who believe in the second coming of Jesus. The Legion guys tell him to pipe down in front of the kid, but he does no such thing. He asks Richard confrontationally how he can believe in God after what's happened to him. Julia tells her father to stop, but he insists Richard answer. "Just because you don't believe in something," Richards says, thoughtfully and with his tademark generosity of spirit, "doesn't mean it's not real." One of the Legioners interrupts to ask if they can finally eat, and Julia asks for Richard to come help her in the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Julia laments how things are going. Richard says he's used to it, but she says he only thinks he is. This is only the beginning. Richard says at least her father has her, to which she replies, "Every boxer needs a sparring partner." Alarmed, Richard asks if he hits her; she quickly backtracks and then explains what a metaphor is. She then uncovers a plate of food she's set aside for Richard, so he won't have to eat in front of the other guests. She worries if this was the right thing to do, but he simply thanks her, if a bit sadly, for the consideration. She returns to the dinner table, while Richard takes off his mask and says a small prayer of grace to himself.

Oh dear, time for The Sad Home Life of Gyp Rosetti. Just like how you knew a bully like Nelson Muntz must have a nightmare of a home life to explain his behavior, it's time to see what domestic terrors have turned ol' Gyp into a hair-trigger, murdering, autoerotic-asphyxiator. Right now, he's getting dressed in his bedroom, silently, while someone out in the apartment hollers at him to hurry up as dinner is ready. Gyp's also being briefed by an underling, who is explaining why this week's take is low and thus confirming what we all suspected would be the fallout of the Tabor Heights massacre: he's lost territory, he's lost manpower, and more importantly, he's lost the ability to fight back, at least for the moment. Underling also brings up the subject of Joe Masseria, who will almost certainly not be very understanding of the circumstances surrounding their shortfall. What's he planning on telling him?

Before Gyp can answer (or not answer, most likely) this question, the pounding on his door becomes excessive and Gyp angrily opens the door to find his ... I guess wife? She's this Brunhilde of a woman -- squat, round-faced, bug-eyed, terrible hausfrau wig, only missing a giant mole on her face, really. She is a harridan of the first order, and despite the fact that Gyp reacts to a soft breeze like it's a slap in the face, he is the picture of stoicism in the face of this cartoonish harping. Out at the dinner table, there are three or four children, all identical to the wife, so the story we're being told here is that Gyp Rosetti is such a miserable psychopath because he's surrounded all say by loud, homely women. I think his mother is there too, or I guess his mother-in-law? That would fit the stereotype even better. They sit down to a dinner of what looks like a boiled lamb's head (good eatin'!), but even then, Mrs. Rosetti slaps Gyp's hand away so he'll say grace first. He does, then proceeds to exercise what is seemingly his one privilege as head of household: he gets to eat the eyeball! Okay, scene.

At the Maison Derriere, Gillian feeds Roger his Easter dinner and asks him about his life. He talks about moving from town to town, taking odd jobs here and there. Picking oranges. Mining for silver in Mexico. She says his adventurousness makes her feel timid by comparison. He asks what's keeping her here, and she says memories, mostly, and dreams. He suggests putting this "mausoleum" up for sale and they take the profits on the road with them for a fine old time. She thought he came here for work. "Who wants to do that if you don't have to?" he asks. Ah, a silver miner AND a gold digger. Gillian playfully wonders if he's trying to take advantage of a lonely widow. In response, he instructs her to hike up her dress and spread her legs, and he walks around the side of the table, unbuttons his pants, and starts doing her right on the tabletop. No nudity. Sorry.

Back at the Thompson Family Jamboree, Eli is instructing the children on the Easter egg hunt ($.10 for the most eggs; a whole quarter for whoever finds the red egg). He counts to three to start the hunt, and of course Teddy starts to go at two because he's a monster who has no respect for the law. Eli finally gets to three and the kids scatter, leaving poor Emily who can't get around so well. Nucky, being pretty great today, quietly walks up to her and says, "You point, and I'll look." Will, standing nearby, offers to do it himself. Family, you guys! Enjoy these kids now before they grow up and start whoring and murdering each other. "He hides them in the same place every year," Will whispers to his cousin. Nucky and Eli smile about the kids, and Eli remembers about how their Ma used to hide three red eggs, one for each child to find. Nucky, predictably, remembers their dad keeping the money. Eli gives a little pssst to one of his sons and points out an egg with his foot. This all reminds me of the 4th of July picnics my dad's extended family would have, and one of the games involved the kids hunting for quarters in a big pile of sawdust. The age range on the kids ran from 14 or so down to about 3 or 4, so our little sister would sometimes get edged out of the fray. So my dad would get her attention and point with his toe at a whole dollar bill that somehow ended up in the sawdust right in front of her. My brother and I found that completely unfair. My point being, if this show wants to make me like Eli, having him remind me of my dad is pretty foolproof. Eli invites Nucky to the garage for a drink.

Inside the house, Margaret and June are getting to know one another, complimenting one another's children, things like that. On the subject of what a fine young man Willie has become, June says, "There was quite a lot of growing up the last couple of years." I don't t even think she meant it in a pointed way, but Margaret registers the implication nonetheless. She apologizes for everything that happened. June says it wasn't her fault, and Nucky helped them out plenty the last two years. She says she didn't think Margaret would come, and Eli told her not to bother, but she's her sister-in-law, and they'd never even met. Again, you'd think this was all passive-aggressive, but it's not. Though I do wonder if June knows that Margaret once held a shotgun on her dear husband. June seems pretty clear-eyed, though, about the business between Nucky and Eli. She tells Margaret some of what she knows about Nucky and Eli's hard upbringing, about their mother, who June knew a bit before she died, how she was the sweetest woman but also a wisp who'd blow away with the breeze. Nucky was the one who held them together. Margaret sadly says he never tells her these things. June's like, "That's how he is. Keeps it all inside. But he has a good heart."

By Joe R

Margaret sits down, affected. She tells June about Nucky's mistress and how they hardly talk anymore. "He's involved in doings I can't bear to think about." She says they take turns blaming each other and that she feels like "the light is being pressed out of me." June, bless her heart, takes it all in, thinks for a moment, and then turns her attention to the pineapple upside-down cake they brought. She goes to find a cake dish and places her hand on Margaret's shoulder as she passes. From outside, it sounds like Emily found the red egg. Good for her.

At the Sagorsky Happy Hour, Sagorsky is in the middle of a rant against the corrupt Harding administration. And while history will prove him right, everybody still wishes he'd just calm down about it while they try to have a nice dinner. Someone asks him who he voted for, and Sagorsky says "Eugene V. Debs." The youngest of the vets laughs that he voted for a Bolshevik, but Richard corrects him that Debs is a socialist. Before we can get into the finer points of a Communism-vs-Socialism debate that still has not been clarified enough for some people in 2012, Tommy gets up and tells Sagorsky he has to go to the bathroom. Sagorsky rudely stonewalls the kid for a moment before, at Julia's urging, telling him it's the second door upstairs. He then reminds Tommy to "aim that pistol straight at the bowl." Okay, so at this point he's that gruff and unpleasant uncle we all avoid, but still relatively harmless.

By Joe R

Upstairs, after Tommy's done his business, he does what kids do and wanders around. And of course he ends up poking around at the door with the sports pennant on it. He turns the knob and sees the preserved room of Julia's dead brother. The music of youth and athleticism and altruistic military service starts playing from some unseen source, and I don't know if the show is trying to play it cute with the music cues or if we're supposed to believe Sagorsky keeps music playing in his dead son's preserved bedroom all day or what.

Eli and Nucky's talk in the garage is going very slowly. They small-talk about his knighting by the church, before Eli gets to the point: he served 16 months, lost all that time with his kids, handed in his badge -- hasn't he taken enough punishment? Nucky says he has his freedom and a job, "under the circumstances" (i.e. considering you tried to have me killed), he thinks he made out pretty well. Eli says he can't live this way, loading trucks and riding shotgun for $30 a day and taking orders from Mickey Doyle. Nucky thinks that's what this whole faux-family event was about -- Eli hoping to butter Nucky up so he can weasel out from under Mickey's thumb.

The men finally get down to the crux of their conflict: Eli thinks Nucky is shoving him down just because he can, while Nucky thinks that Eli just takes and takes and takes, does any number of disloyal things, and expects to just be fine because they're brothers. Classic brother dynamics. Eli pulls a pistol down from a shelf and lays it on the table as Nucky kind of rolls his eyes. Eli's all, "Shoot me, then. You know you eventually will." Ah, the old Eli, just in time for me to temper my good feelings. Nucky picks up the gun and removes all the bullets. "Why does it always have to be such a melodrama with you?" he asks. I mean. Seriously.

Roger and Gillian are in bed, barely covered by the sheets. I feel like Gillian's erect nipples have gotten more storyline in the past two weeks than Chalky White has all season. He prods her a little about this deceased love of hers, but she's evasive at first. Up until this point, it's still plausible she could be talking about the Commodore or Jimmy, but now she says they "knew each other as children," which is one hell of a fine point to put on things. She also says she was older than he, so yeah, she's waxing rhapsodic about the sexual relationship she had with her dead son. She says he "walked out one night" and she never saw him after that. Again, literal truths as a way for her to avoid saying what's real. She changes the subject to where they'll go on their imagined cross-country odyssey. He talks about flying down to Cuba and drinking rum punch all day, which I'll admit doesn't sound half bad. He goes to climb back on top of her, but she says before they do, she wants to do something to him: she wants to bathe him. Like ... okay.

Downstairs, Julia is apologetic to the guests as they leave. One of them is very kind to her and says he's been down the same bottle as her dad. "How'd you get out?" she asks. He says that's a story for another day. Nice man. Richard goes to leave, but he tells Julia they're all leaving. Her too. He asks her to go with him, and she accepts.

At the Thompson Jamboree, one of Eli's daughter's (not gonna look it up) is playing "Beautiful Dreamer" on her ... some kind of instrument (not gonna look it up -- there's a bow and kind of a bandsaw? I don't know). I guess this is the part of the Thompson family gatherings where it's kind of a talent show? June wants Eli to do what seems to be his usual pirate impersonation. Much as we'd love to see that, Eli says maybe time. So all the kids start clamoring for Uncle Nucky to do something. Nucky doesn't put up much of a fight, and it sounds like this is also a performance he's been known to break out at parties. It's really quite endearing, as Nucky enacts what's essentially a vaudeville routine, doing some basic crowdwork and jokes with the kids, all while juggling. The kids are eating it up. He's basically the cool, nice uncle you'd want as a kid. It's tragic, really. Between this and his historical fondness for Eddie Cantor, you wonder if Nucky might have made an even better entertainer than a small-scale crime lord. Margaret certainly looks on with admiration and a fondness for her husband that she hasn't had in quite a long time.

The kids then ask Margaret to perform , and while she demurs, Nucky says he'd like to see what she's got up her sleeve. "You would, would you?" she asks in a very playful way that makes me just love her. So Margaret gets up an sings a silly little Irish ditty called "Tell Me Ma" (Margaret's version has less of a dance beat) and while she's a pretty modest singer, she gets the kids to clap along with her and really sells it. Now it's Nucky's turn to look at his spouse with fondness.

Richard and Julia are down at the boardwalk amusement park. It's hard to watch this show in the wake of this week's storm, and what happened to the Boardwalk and the amusement park there on the Atlantic City shore. I can imagine there will be more of that as this series goes on, but this scene is the first to really remind me of it. Richard tries to tell her that he had a lovely time, which she doesn't believe (though I think it's true). In truth, she's having a hard time knowing what to say to him at all. When he tells her to just say what she feels, she tells him to please not threaten to kill her father again. "He's a mean drunk and a horse's ass," she says, fighting back tears, "but I don't like it." Richard says he was just trying to sound tough, but obviously Julia's not looking for more of that in her life. She spots Tommy getting too close to the camel attraction, and Richard pulls him away, saying they bite. Tommy pouts that he doesn't care, so Julia calls over to him and asks if he's going to sulk all day just because her father's a dope. This gets Tommy to smile a bit. I'm noticing that Julia kind of resembles Gillian. A kinder, less Oedipal Gillian, to be sure. She says she should be getting home, and he starts to say something, addressing her as "Miss Sagorsky." She tells him to call her Julia, and he introduces himself as Richard. "Nice to meet you," she smiles. A barker hustles them both and Tommy in front of a backdrop and takes their photo, referring to them as father, mother, and son. Not a one of them is related to another, of course. But in a perfect world ...

This scene is super tedious, so you'll forgive me for blasting through it. Rosetti is sitting in an empty church, praying to God. The prayer of course turns into angry recriminations. Gyp's angry at the heavens! God gives him wants and desires for things out of his reach! Why's he gotta do that? O the Forgotten, Forsaken Child of the Lord! She's spitting his words out at this point. This comes out of nowhere, of course. No buildup to this great religious importance in Gyp's life, so it means nothing beyond another scene where the villain acts extreme in otherwise sacred circumstances. To wit: the parish priest approaches him and tells him he's being rather loud and profane. So, obviously, Rosetti starts beating him and demanding the Church collection money. Because that's where we're at with this guy.

Okay, this scene is extremely weird and intense but here we go: Gillian leads a blindfolded Roger down to the Maison Derriere's insanely appointed marble bathroom, though "room" doesn't do this palace justice. She's being very playful and sexy with him, telling him he has to do everything exactly as she says. Starting with taking all his clothes off. I approve of your methods so far, Gillian. She has him get in the tub; he gets antsy about her getting in their with him, so she disrobes to placate him. Then she begins washing him with a sponge. The uncomfortable mother/son vibes are really freaking me out at this point. She tells him to close his eyes and relax, and the expectation is that she'll start giving him a handjob in the tub or something. Actually, my expectation was that she'd start remembering a time when she gave Jimmy a handjob in the tub, but maybe I'm just having Hedwig flashbacks.

What actually happens is so much freakier. Roger's eyes fly open in shock, as Gillian has plunged a dainty 1920s syringe into a vein in his left arm. He freaks out, and she tries to calm him down, saying it's just heroin, is all. I start to wonder if I'm recapping the right show, as things have gotten all American Horror Story in this place. Panicking, he asks how much she dosed him with. "I suppose rather a lot," is Gillian's semi-disinterested response. He tries to retaliate, but the drugs take hold quickly. She pushes him back into the tub and tells him to enjoy it, "have a new adventure." "Am I talking?" he slurs to her. No, she tells him, he's dreaming. At this, Gillian takes the sponge and with it, pushes Roger's face below the surface of the water. He's barely conscious as it is. Even when his body starts struggling against the drowning, Gillian's able to keep him under with one hand. He bubbles up his last bubbles of air, then he's still.

Maybe I'm a dummy, but the first time I watched this, I still hadn't caught on to what Gillian's plan was. Had she just snapped and gone psycho? She seemed so calm. Eventually, she crosses the room to retrieve a pair of dog tags. Jimmy's. She places them around dead Roger's neck and leaves the syringe to the tub. So I guess this is how easy it was to pass off one man's death as another, in the pre-forensic 1920s? I actually thought at this point that Gillian would burn the Maison Derriere to the ground, collect that insurance money in her own name, but no, she just lights a cigarette after a long day's work. R.I.P., Roger the Fuck Stallion. You made my having to contemplate this incest storyline more bearable.

Rosetti meets with Joe Masseria, and the latter is obnoxiously pompous and disingenuous as ever. He's furious at Rosetti for neglecting his New York territory for this foolishness in Tabor Heights, particularly now that it's gone bad. He can't control Rosetti, he can't rely on him, and he can't afford him. It looks like he's walking away from him for good, so Rosetti offers up a Hail Mary pass: he says that Nucky Thompson and Arnold Rothstein are building something that threatens Masseria's place in the criminal hierarchy, and they're using Luciano right from under his nose. Masseria doesn't seem concerned about these people, but Rosetti makes an impassioned case: they're not like them! Jews and Micks and people who don't respect where they came from. Not Italians like them. Certainly not Luciano with his Jew friends. Rosetti wants Masseria's backing to wage proper war; Thompson, Rothstein, Luciano, the rest -- he'll kill them all. Then Masseria won't just be a boss, he'll be a king. Masseria, as you might expect, is listening.

At home that night, Nucky and Margaret are unwinding from a long day with family. They talk about June and Eli, Margaret liking her so much and Nucky saying that Eli has never had eyes for anyone else (nice subtle self-implication there, Nuck). She says June's grateful to him for all he's done for them, which makes Nucky think. Margaret's also impressed that Nucky can juggle. He says it's a childhood skill he picked up down on the Midway. He can juggle, she says, and be charming and funny and generous. He says she can be all those things as well. Ah, but she can't juggle, she says. He offers to teach her right now, but it's "too late," she says. She means too late in the evening, but the double meaning is gears-grindingly obvious.

By Joe R

Back at Eli's, June is also processing the day's events. She seems completely wiped form the effort of putting on a wonderful family holiday, the way it used to be. She says she liked Margaret ... but she's not happy. Eli kindly tells her, "That's their problem." The phone rings, and Eli answers to Nucky on the other end. He wanted to tell Eli what he should have said earlier: Eli was the only smart one warning about that impending disaster in Tabor Heights. He put himself on the line, and it didn't go unnoticed. Starting tomorrow, he'll be co-running the warehouse with Mickey Doyle. Which is about as mixed a blessing as you can ask for in this life. Eli thanks his brother, and Nucky tells him the whole family had a good time, before hastily hanging up. Brothers!

Richard's at home, pasting the photo from the Boardwalk today into his scrapbook. Gillian knocks on the door, back to feigning pre-menstrual weakness. She makes small talk -- about the girls, who have returned; about Tommy. He asks if she's feeling better, and she finally says out loud, "My son is dead. And nothing on Earth will ever bring him back." Richard has no possible response to this. He's saved by the screaming of the girls downstairs. A body's been discovered.

Joe R is seeing so many happy circumstances just waiting to be torn apart in the final five episodes. He can be reached for lavish praise and nothing but at joseph.reid21@gmail.com.