"Here's A Revelation. You're Idiots."

S06E04

Well, a lot of stuff happened, some of it pretty good, and as such I won't even waste your time and mine talking about Masuka and that stupid idiot intern. When Dexter sees the Four Horsemen Crafts Project, even he is thrown, although unbelievably, Mike Anderson the New Guy is the only one who can place the significance of the four horses, like, Quinn and Deb are one thing but how geeks like Masuka and Dexter wouldn't grasp it is completely beyond me. (I mean, forget the Bible – they're referenced in the X-Men universe.) Dexter is able to confirm that the kill wound, which by the way was made with some sort of old weapon, is a match with the one from the snake victim, and also finds a paper in the victim's eye with 1242 on it, prompting him to take another look at the first victim (or at least his intestines) and find a similar one reading 1237. Dexter figures that these are dates, and with the idea of a countdown (or -up) in play combined with the killer's references to the Book of Revelations, Batista speculates that the killer is announcing his belief that the world is going to end. Due to the combined efforts of Deb's team, in the end they know that Edward James Olmos was a professor named James Gellar, a Revelations expert who disappeared three years ago – after he was accused of stealing an ancient sword belonging to none other than John The Revelator. Also, Dexter deduces, from the difference in the fastidious crime-scene setups and the hack-and-slash way the victims were killed, that they're looking for two people.

Matthews informs LaGuerta that Deb will be the one to address the press about the Four Horsemen case, although LaGuerta of course tells Deb that the whole thing was her idea. Before the conference, LaGuerta gives Deb some advice to loosen up and not be so formal, which leads to Deb dropping an f-bomb on TV; predictably, LaGuerta gloats to herself how her wicked plan worked; just as predictably, it doesn't, as Matthews calls Deb in and tells her everyone loved how direct she was. We don't actually see LaGuerta sucking a lemon, but I'm pretty sure we can assume that happened.

Harrison comes down with appendicitis, and having had it as an adult I can only imagine the pain he must be in, so I won't begrudge him his wailing. Mos Def turns up to the hospital to support Dexter, and Deb thinks it's adorable that they're apparently friends now, which, of course, it is. When they're alone, Mos Def tells Dexter how his dad once used him to kill a man, with the guy's blood even splashing on him. This, as you might imagine, effed him up and contributed to him becoming a killer himself, but in prison, he had a moment of revelation and renounced his wicked ways. Dexter then steps away and prays for Harrison, and at this rate he and Mos Def are going to be the whole show soon, which I could definitely get behind.

Finally, a cute waitress takes a shine to Colin Hanks, and after a nice dinner the two of them end up in bed WITH GELLAR SURREPTITIOUSLY WATCHING THEM. Forget the Horsemen – THAT was scary, although to be honest, I'm starting to wonder if what we're seeing on screen is actually Gellar or just a figment of Colin Hanks's imagination. Still, that wouldn't account for the difference in MO that Dexter mentioned. Regardless, scarier still is when Colin Hanks awakes and finds Gellar having bound and gagged his new interest, and before you know it, the Miami Metro team is at the Coral Gables Botanical Garden finding an alpha/omega symbol. They find the poor girl strung up but still alive, but even though she frantically shakes her head for them not to approach, some idiot cop hits a tripwire that activates a mechanism that punctures the girl's jugular right in front of them and makes her look like a very dead angel. I still don't think it's the tightest writing, but I do have to hand it to the show for getting back to its Gothic, crazy-disturbing roots. On top of everything, they discover a swarm of locusts, and in the pandemonium that follows, Dexter notices Colin Hanks watching the whole scene with delighted fascination and makes him as one of the killers. I'm more excited than I expected to see how this one shapes up.

Dexter, along with many Mos Def hangers-on and also Harrison, who's wearing an adorably large hat, is at the beach watching Mos Def baptize someone, as Mos Def said he was going to last week. DVO babbles some of the most simplistic observations about religion, but the part that's worth noticing is how much Dexter wishes he had something to believe in as much as Mos Def believes in God, as said belief has obviously brought him peace. We drive home this notion with some slow-motion shots of Mos Def smiling beatifically...

...and then Harrison is playing in the sand when Mos Def squats down to him, and Dexter calls from his spot under an umbrella that it's his son, and encourages Harrison to say hi. He doesn't, so you can see the resemblance. Dexter then mentions that he'll be coming into the shop again, and I kind of love how his poor car has been taking it on the chin in order to make sure this plotline gets properly, um, serviced. (Sorry. But seriously, that car should just be happy it's not on Breaking Bad.) Mos Def eagerly asks what Dexter thought of the whole ceremony, and Dexter responds with the dreaded "interesting" before redeeming (ooh, this is not going well) himself somewhat by saying he thinks the idea of second chances is great, failing to add "Because without them, I would have killed you some time ago, and we wouldn't have become sort of best buds." He does amend the idea to "for Nick," however, prompting Mos Def to observe that Dexter probably thinks the idea that a dunk in the bay could fix all your problems is "bullshit." DVO replies, "That's one word for it," and I have to ask in all seriousness: Do the writers of these voiceovers understand English? Seriously, that's an expression that suggests Mos Def is euphemizing or understating the case, but as I quoted, he said Dexter thinks that it's bullshit. What is the word or sentiment Dexter's thinking of that's so much stronger? The answer is that there isn't one -- the show is just in the habit of being far too indiscriminate with its VOs, erring on their side instead of relying on the Michael C. Hall's acting to get the point across, which clearly would have been sufficient in this case. Of course, I suppose the VO could have been "That's one word for it, which as it happens is also the exact one I'm thinking of," but I suppose they thought it wouldn't sound as good. And look, I know bitching about the overabundance of VOs at this point in the series is beyond hopeless, but the misuse of an expression that's hardly esoteric is particularly irksome. In conclusion: Shut up, DVO. Mos Def and Dexter then have an exchange about religion that's going nowhere but is easy and respectful, and then when Dexter's phone rings, he calls to Harrison to get the car, and Mos Def plays along: "Somebody got to do the driving with him." You guys, the fact that Dexter has an actual friend now, let alone someone as awesome as Mos Def, is easily my favorite part of this season.

By Couch Baron

Dexter crosses the police line at the crime scene, and his eyes go wider than I remember when he gets his first look at the Four Horsemen Crafts Project, even letting out a "Jesus Christ!" Ordinarily, I'd call that heavy-handed in the context of his season arc, but I'm going to overrule myself in this particular case. Don't worry -- it's not going to be my last chance. Dexter finds Deb and asks what's with the "Wicked Rodeo," which is a good one, but given the subject matter I'm sorry that no one's taking the opportunity to proclaim it the "Worst. Ren Fair. Ever." Deb replies that she has no idea -- someone sewed body parts to mannequins and then strapped them to horses. "I mean... what the fuck?" Again, I'd make a joke about Deb becoming more decorous in her new position, again, I'll pass because of how justified her salty language is in this particular situation, and again, it will not be my last opportunity to broach the subject. Dexter, with kind of way too much wonder in his voice -- not that Deb ever notices these things -- says that the scale of the spectacle kind of reminds him of..."Brian, my brother," DVO supplies, before Deb blows up DVO's spot and says the same thing, although she refers to him as Rudy, the name she knew. Dexter apologizes for mentioning a memory he suspects is still very painful for her, but surprisingly, Deb takes it in stride, saying she was thinking it too, especially given the -- "Imagination," DVO offers, before Deb continues, "Brutality" that went into the kills. That use of DVO I have no problem with. Funny is always welcome, especially on this show where it isn't exactly easy to come by.

Ignoring Batista and Quinn's attempts to get her attention, she takes Dexter closer to one of the horses so he can see the alpha and omega symbol on its head -- the same one that was carved into the stomach of the snake victim. Quinn then calls to Deb again, and annoyed, she turns and snaps at him, but it turns out that he, Batista, and Masuka are waiting to report to her, as crime-scene protocol dictates. Shaking off any embarrassment at her mistake, she has them proceed; Batista tells her a nearby stable reported four horses missing a couple days earlier, Quinn reports that Mounted Patrol is on the way, presumably to wrangle the animals, and Masuka says that his preliminary analysis suggests the body parts all came from the same victim. I guess it's good there weren't Eight Horsemen Of The Apocalypse, then. They all then stand around dumbly wondering what the killer could be trying to tell them, and I'm sorry, FOUR HORSES? ALPHA AND OMEGA? Have none of these people read anything, ever? These are not obscure references, even for someone who's never even heard of the Bible. I think we know Batista is or was a religious man, no? On top of that, Masuka has surely read X-Men which had a storyline involving not only the Four Horsemen but also their master Apocalypse, and I'm pretty sure the show has referenced the idea that Dexter has studied serial-killer lore, which I can only imagine is rife with End of Days stuff. So it's really not believable that New Guy, Mike Anderson, has to tell them that the killer is talking about the end of the world. Quinn is beyond hostile to Anderson from the get-go, and I'd wonder about him being even more dickish than usual if this weren't the show most obviously telegraphing that Anderson and Deb will be knocking boots within three episodes. And good for Deb -- Billy Brown, last seen by me (and no one else) playing Death Row Reynolds on Lights Out, is, not to put too fine a point on it, smoking. Anderson goes on that the killer is showing them a scene from the Book of Revelations, Deb gives marching orders, and then Dexter makes one of those super-excited faces that everyone passes off as just "deeply weird" instead of "serial killer in our midst."

In the lab at Miami Metro, Dexter has apparently promoted himself to Medical Examiner, as he bustles around while Deb tells him they have an ID on the victim -- Nathan Roberts, who went out for a jog and never came back. No word on if he had a wife and kids in Baltimore. Dexter eagerly reports that the kill wounds on the Jogger Who Went To Pieces and the Beasts In The Belly guy match, and then references the ME's report, which is weird, because if Dexter isn't doing ME work, shouldn't his analysis be confined to matters of blood spatter? Whatever, there's enough to cover here without worrying about Miami Metro's internal jurisdiction matters. The point is that there was some residue in the wound, and a report on same is forthcoming, as are the measurements of the wound (I guess his examination was strictly visual? Not caring.) before speculating that a bone saw was used to cut off the victim's arms and legs. I know it's early for such bad puns, but I feel I'll cause myself internal damage if I don't congratulate Dexter for going out on a limb there. He then notices something wedged down in one of the victim's lower eyelids, and when he extracts it, we see it's a piece of paper with the numbers "1242" on them. And I'd laugh about the killer(s?) making it so hard to find this clue after the grand parade he (they?) just put on, but whether or not real serial killers do this, the idea at least has its roots in Twin Peaks and Silence Of The Lambs, which obviously is all that really matters.

This gives Dexter the idea to check the first victim for a similar message, and when he comes up empty on the body, he thinks to check the guy's eviscerated intestines, and I'm sure the props master was just thrilled to have to keep those on ice for this long. I will, however, say that it's enjoyable that Deb doesn't even bother commenting on how much Dexter gets off on sick shit like this anymore. Anyway, "1237" is the number Dexter finds, and by the way, the slip of paper it's written on so strongly resembles one you'd find in a fortune cookie that I can't believe no one made a sick joke about it. Deb can't believe she's been on her new job less than a week and already has a crazy serial killer to catch, but Dexter corrects her that he needs to commit at least three separate killing events to qualify. Deb looks at him incredulously, but you can see where he'd want to preserve the integrity of the definition. He then gets a call from Jamie saying Harrison isn't feeling well -- she doesn't think it's anything bad, but she wonders if she should cancel his play date. Dexter tells her definitely and she should call him if he gets any worse, like, he's bawling his head off, so I guess screaming will be the call? If so, can it happen off screen?

LaGuerta comes in to see Matthews, who tells her that they need to address the press about the Four Horsemen (wait, what kind of obscure reference is that?) case. LaGuerta practically licks her lips as she says she's already called a conference for that afternoon, but Matthews tells her that Deb will be making the statement. LaGuerta, almost choking on the monkey wrench Matthews just threw at her, sputters that Deb has no experience, but Matthews informs her that Deb's the new face of the department. LaGuerta starts to say she's still..."The old face," Matthew supplies, and might as well turn off the air conditioning in there because that was COLD. Matthews goes on to order LaGuerta to set it up for the afternoon, and LaGuerta takes a moment to swallow this before heading out...

...and straight to Deb, who wonders "why the fuck" she'd be the one to lead a press conference. LaGuerta says this way, people will think it's less serious, so she made the "strategic decision" to put Deb in the spotlight, and I'll opine that that's bullshit IF IT'S OKAY WITH DVO. LaGuerta goes on that it's also Deb's responsibility "as... Lieutenant," and that little pause was hilarious and made me remember that Lauren Velez could be doing something interesting with this character if they didn't write her so poorly. LaGuerta also reminds Deb that she hasn't done her post-shooting-incident therapy, mandatory after such an experience, and she's a liability until she gets cleared so she needs to make the time. Having said what she needed to say, LaGuerta bails, but Anderson takes her place in time to see Deb go straight to the refrigerator and stuff some junk food in her face. I guess we're supposed to think she's stress-eating, but given how thin Jennifer Carpenter is I can't imagine that's a bad thing. Anderson then gives her the unsolicited advice to start dressing a bit more professionally, as befits her new position, instead of looking like she's going "to a hoedown." I don't really see that -- he's making it sound like she's walking around the place chewing on stalks of hay -- but sure, the advice is reasonable, if kind of inappropriate from someone who's barely off the plane, and Deb seems to take it as such, from the lack of a "Go fuck yourself" or the equivalent.

Oh my God, that horrific nightmare of an intern does roller derby. I am offended on behalf of all actual roller-derby participants out there, a few of whom I know, especially since it causes Masuka to babble some nerd lust at her. Horrific Nightmare Of An Intern then asks if Masuka will show her the Bay Harbor Butcher or Trinity Killer evidence, but Masuka tells her the FBI has all that stuff, and we're out in time for me to make it to my toilet.

It's time for a meeting about the case, but Anderson has no sooner started talking than Masuka enters and interrupts to inform them that there were traces of rust in the kill wound, and I hate to interrupt for a nitpick (ha ha, I kill myself sometimes), but are we meant to believe that ME didn't run a similar analysis on the first victim's wound? Or are we saying that the rust on the weapon only formed between the two kills? It's just an annoying point, because you can see the writers straining to shape the way the case develops, and it makes it feel -- oh god, here we go again -- less organic. Anyway, the significance of this point is that weapons haven't been made from iron for some hundreds of years, so it narrows down what they're looking for to something very old, such as a sword, and Deb encourages him to stay on that track before Anderson goes on that the killer has left them three "tableaus," which gets Quinn's anti-intellectual back up, and he makes himself look like even more of an idiot than usual. Not that any of his moronic posturing fazes Anderson in the slightest, and Dexter pipes up that the use of the word "tableau" is apt here, given that everything in the crime scenes has had significance, and I'll go with that conclusion but I still think it's rich coming from someone who apparently NEVER HEARD OF THE FOUR HORSEMEN BEFORE. Dexter adds that "Mike" is just helping them interpret the killer's language, and it's funny that he's playing Quinn Whisperer here, so Anderson goes on that they know about the Four Horsemen (he doesn't add, "Thanks to me,") but he's also found a reference in Revelations to a seven-headed snake rising out of the water. I guess Colin Hanks did the best he could with that one. Deb asks about the intestines, and Anderson, in a hilarious deadpan, says there's no passage on intestines, but given that the scales of justice are all over the Bible, he figures it's a reference to God's judgment of mankind. No one has anything to say about the numbers until Dexter notes that the kills happened five days apart, which is the same differential as between 1237 and 1242. Batista speculates that the killer is counting up to doomsday, so Deb tells her team to round up any religious nuts with criminal records. "Let's find this... Doomsday Killer." That's a moniker that will calm the people down!

Edward James Olmos and Colin Hanks are sitting in a restaurant, and EJO opines that people are afraid, but then notices that Colin Hanks's attention is focused on the waitress, who's currently servicing a nearby table. EJO looks very put-upon as he points out that Colin Hanks thinks the waitress is pretty, and then the girl comes over and asks "Trav" if she can get him anything else, filling his water glass while she's at it, and in the "EJO doesn't actually exist" corner that I referenced in the recaplet is the fact that the girl doesn't even acknowledge EJO. Of course, he could have declined water, so she may have assumed he was done already, but it's still weird. Against it, however, is not just the different MOs, also referenced in the recaplet (still upcoming here) that will lead Dexter to believe they're searching for two killers, but also the fact that those tableaus were intricate and practically impossible to execute for two people; one would be absolutely ridiculous. Colin Hanks, by himself, stole and wrangled four horses, not to mention a large venomous snake, put those mannequins together, etc.? No. Unfortunately, this scene and others in the episode feel off enough that I still have the feeling EJO doesn't exist, and that the show is going to rely on us to forget about those details I mentioned when they do the big reveal. Even when this show is good, it's not great. But anyway, the point is that Colin Hanks likes the waitress, and EJO doesn't seem too happy about it, which is probably not great for her.

DVO seriously is acting like he's learning for the first time that religious imagery and writings can be disturbing. Having ignored religion is one thing, but not having the slightest idea of, say, history is something else. He went to college, right? Deb then pops out in her new generic business attire, pops a beer, and bitches about her new job for a while until Jamie breezes through to run some laundry downstairs, as Harrison apparently had some sort of low-end blowout, and if Deb were smart she'd hold him for a while so she'd have an excuse not to wear the new clothes tomorrow. Dexter picks up Harrison sweetly, but clunks all over the moment by saying that he guesses "there are some things that even daddies can't fix." Harrison doesn't editorialize about that line by taking another dump, but I kind of wish he would.

Dexter's at the garage, and Mos Def tells him he's giving him the friends and family rate, and Dexter barely reacts to that, which is the best evidence the show has ever displayed that he's not like other people. I mean, this is discounted auto repair we're talking about. The kid who was baptized the other day ("Nick," in case it's ever relevant) blows through on his way to computer class (he's going to be building a "bomb website" soon, yo), and Dexter marvels in spite of himself at how Mos Def takes care of his guys. Mos Def counters that God is taking care of them, prompting Dexter to pick up Mos Def's Bible and observe how heavily Mos Def has annotated it. Mos Def tells Dexter that every time he reads it, he finds something new, and Dexter admits that he just started reading it, taking care to add, "For work." Heh. Mos Def realizes that this is about the Four Horsemen killer, and shakes his head at the work of the devil he takes it to be. He goes on that people use God as an excuse for a lot of things, but just because he believes in "crazy bullshit" (THAT'S ONE WORD FOR IT!) doesn't make his faith less real. And I know I mocked that line in the recaplet, but upon further consideration, if Dexter didn't even know there's crazy shit in the Bible, no lesson about religion is likely to be too remedial. Mos Def goes on to ask Dexter if he's ever had a problem so big he couldn't deal with it, and Dexter admits that he has, so Mos Def asks who he turned to. Dexter: "My dad." Aw, although his "help" is certainly unconventional. Mos Def, in light of what we learn later, does a nice, subtle piece of business as he has to take a moment before recovering to say that Dexter is lucky, and blessed. "Faith, man. You put it in the wrong things? Fuck you up." Good scene, there.

In the elevator at Miami Metro, Deb complains about her pantyhose, wondering to Dexter, "Has anyone ever died from crotch asphyxiation?" Dexter most understandably thinks that question crosses the appropriate boundaries of their sibling relationship. When they get out, Deb gets a little shit from Masuka and Quinn, although given how bitter Quinn seemed very recently the good-natured ribbing seems abrupt, and then we observe a bunch of idiots in the background arguing about the Mayan calendar, so I guess they've found their religious nuts. Dexter shakes a weary head at their faith-based insanity...

...and then we cut to Deb, who's practicing her speech for the press conference when LaGuerta comes in and eyes her back like a cat who's just taken notice of a particularly large ball of yarn. She gets Deb's attention and asks if she wants some honest advice, and then somehow manages not to burst into flames as she counsels Deb to lose the speech and relax -- she's not a formal person, so a formal statement could come off as insincere. It's not actually the worst advice ever if you throw in some qualifiers, but you just know the game LaGuerta's playing here; to top it off, she removes her triple-strand, beaded necklace and puts it around Deb's neck, and I don't think you have to see it to know that this is SO not her. Deb looks like she's about the chew the inside of her cheek hard enough to draw blood, which might get her some attention, given where she works.

Speaking of which, Dexter's in the lab with Harry as DVO decides to have another look at the more recent victim, and Harry notes that the killer butchered the body. Dexter thinks that doesn't fit with the meticulousness the killer used in composing his crime scenes, and I feel obliged to point out that I'm not sure quite how precisely you can arrange any particular tableau when it depends primarily on the actions of FOUR STOLEN HORSES WHO ARE LIKELY SPOOKED BY THE MANNEQUIN-CORPSES ON THEIR BACKS, but sure, let's go with the idea that there are two killers, although as I said, that shoots the "EJO is a figment of Colin Hanks's imagination" down pretty hard, unless Colin Hanks is totally DID or whatever. Given that I'm not really expecting an explanation that makes much sense, it seems like a waste of time to try coming up with one myself.

And speaking of wastes of time, the Horrific Nightmare Of An Intern is prancing around for an appreciative Masuka's benefit when he gets a phone call from a dude who's checking up on an item he saw on an auction site -- a prosthetic hand that is listed as being from the Ice Truck Killer investigation. Panicked, Masuka asks the guy to hold on while he checks it on his computer, and his fears are confirmed when he sees that the seller is listed as "Rollergurl 105." I just can't even. After telling the guy it's a fake and he shouldn't bid on it, he tries to get Horrific Nightmare Of An Intern's attention, but she's got her headphones on, and he then observes that there's less than a minute to go in the auction, which is just SO convenient. The current bid is $1200, and Masuka tries to enter a bid of a hundred dollars more (he... has an account here? Actually, I can believe it), but the auction expires. Horrific Nightmare Of An Intern then comes in and Masuka -- who, to his tiny credit is completely disillusioned with her -- asks if she's insane; if they ever needed to go back to the investigation for any reason, they'd need that evidence, not to mention that he could lose his job, given that he's supervising her. Horrific Nightmare Of An Intern replies that no one has to know, which would be hilarious if she weren't such a stupid idiot, and she tries to placate him, but, again to his small credit, he wants absolutely nothing to do with her. I hope he at least sticks that landing, but I'm sure we haven't seen the last of that hand or, more importantly, Horrific Nightmare Of An Intern. And on top of that, no one here even made a joke about a five-finger discount.

Deb's on live TV, and the first question the interviewer has for her is whether the Four Horsemen case is connected to the Omar Rivera (Seven Snakes) case. Deb's wary look suggests that that wasn't supposed to be public information, for which I think it's reasonable to blame LaGuerta. Deb tries to put the interviewer off, but after the interviewer points out that the same Alpha and Omega symbol was found at both crime scenes, Deb takes a long moment to consider and then admits it, encouraging viewers to speak up if they hear anything, and adding that they're all in it together. That seems to go over fairly well, so, emboldened, Deb says she's not going to lie about the investigation, and she's not into press conferences or public opinion. "All I care about is catching the fucker that did this." LaGuerta wishes she had a mustache so she could twirl it right now at the resultant murmuring, although seriously, if nobody took the time to brief Deb that she's not allowed to curse, I don't feel too bad about them getting hit with the fine. Of course she should have known better, but you've still got to remind people when it's your fucking ass on the line. Hilariously, Deb realizes her mistake with a "Shit," and HELLO INTERVIEWER YOU MIGHT WANT TO TAKE THE MIKE AWAY, and then Deb says that will be all and heads back inside. Anderson asks Batista if it's just him, or if LaGuerta looks pretty pleased that Deb just "shit the bed," and considering she's practically cackling I'd say it's pretty clearly not you, dude. Batista agrees with me, and then Quinn comes out and tells Batista they have one more "nutjob" to interview, a preacher named Jeremiah Allen, and they're going to have to make a house call. They head off, and inside, Deb asks Dexter to tell her it wasn't that bad, but even a successful serial killer can't pull that lie off, and on top of him telling her it was, in fact, pretty bad, he asks if she's wearing LaGuerta's necklace. Heh. Deb storms away, but Dexter gets a phone call before he can follow, and one worried expression later...

...he's at the hospital learning that Harrison has a ruptured appendix. I could complain about the creative bankruptcy in making a child deathly ill in order to induce questions of faith (and by the way, the hospital is named "St. Peter's," like, SUBTLE), and about Harrison's tortured screaming, but having had appendicitis myself as an adult I can only imagine the pain it would cause to a child, so I'm just going to continue by saying that I'm not sure how they do not yet HAVE HIM ON AN ANTIBIOTIC DRIP. Dexter signs a consent form and then assures Harrison that everything will be all right before they wheel the wailing kid off to, hopefully, THE PLACE WHERE THEY KEEP THE ANTIBIOTICS. Dexter's phone then rings, and it's Mos Def, who does not have appendicitis but does have his car ready, but Dexter does not have time for Mos Def at the moment and gets off the phone quickly so he can look sad and worried in peace.

By Couch Baron

Mos Def gives Dexter some advice that sounds a little preachy but then recoils, saying that he knows if he were Dexter he would not want to hear anything like that right now, and adding that he wasn't always like this. "People used to talk to me about God, and it used to make me want to punch 'em in their face." That's one word for it! He goes on that, like Dexter, he used to believe in his father and after Dexter encourages him to go on, Mos Def tells him that when he was growing up, his father was very popular. Everyone called him "Mister," and he was always working, although Mos Def never really knew what he did. One day, he took Mos Def to see a "friend" of his, and when they got there, his father told him to go up and ring the doorbell. Mos Def complied, and a man answered; before he even had time to ask who Mos Def was, his dad appeared behind him with a pistol in his hand and shot the man in the face. There was blood everywhere, even on Mos Def's Superman shirt, but his dad just picked him up and drove off; later, he told Mos Def that he did a good job. I mean, obvious and clunky parallels to Dexter's own experiences aside, it's a pretty powerful image, and Mos Def sells the hell out of it in his understated way. Dexter looks, for him, fairly stunned, and takes a long moment to offer, "He used you," with some real feeling for what Mos Def went through. Mos Def acknowledges that it effed him up real good until, after he'd been in prison for a few months, he started beating on this braggart of a new guy in the prison chapel when he noticed sunlight coming through the chapel window, and he suddenly saw his life very clearly and didn't want to be the person he was anymore. Dexter skeptically asks if he thinks this was God, but all Mos Def knows is that when he let the guy go, he never had felt as good about anything in his life. Dexter takes a deep breath and gets up to procure some coffee...

...but when the machine appears to eat his money, after shaking it for a moment, he breathes, "Just let him be okay. Please let him be okay." He adds that if there's something he needs to do in return, he's game, whereupon the machine comes to life and spits out a cup of coffee. I hope whoever fielded that request knows he was really talking about the other thing.

In their creepy church or whatever, Colin Hanks finds EJO painting, and the latter turns and asks if he's going out with that waitress. Colin Hanks says he could cancel and stick around, but EJO tells him they were given free will for a reason. "You can do whatever you want. As long as you're willing to... accept the consequences God gives you." Colin Hanks considers the VERY CREEPY implications of this statement before saying it's just dinner, and he'll be home by ten. EJO does not dignify this with an answer, but once Colin Hanks is gone, he turns and stares after him. Shudder.

At dinner, the waitress (her name is Erin) asks if Colin Hanks is close with his parents, and he says he was, but they died in a car accident when he was fourteen, so his sister raised him after that. Erin takes his hand and says they were lucky to have each other...

...and then she's telling him via some terrible ADR she wants him as they climb into bed. Well, that was pretty fast, but we've got a lot more ground to cover here, such as the fact that when we pan left, you can SEE EJO SURREPTITIOUSLY WATCHING THEM THROUGH THE CRACK IN THE DOOR. Even if he is imaginary, that's still way creepy.

At the hospital, the doctor appears and gives the good news that Harrison will be fine, and Dexter spontaneously hugs him, which again is adorable and underscores how strongly he loves his son. Knowing Harrison's out of danger, Deb runs off, as Matthews has summoned her to discuss the fucking press conference, and Dexter gives Jamie leave to go as well. When they're gone, Dexter sincerely thanks Mos Def for staying, and Mos Def encourages him to keep an open mind about the faith thing before heading out as well. When he's gone, behind Dexter you can see the TV playing a commercial for some kitchen-convenience product called "JarIt!" and it's so pointed that I can't figure out if it's a future plot point or a joke. Either way, I wish they'd used the opening credits of Liz Lemon's talk show instead.

Deb turns up to Matthews's office, expecting to receive the fastest demotion in history, but Matthews doesn't string her along as he tells her that everyone loves his new "spark plug of a lieutenant," adding that she was direct with no bullshit and justified his faith in her. I'd like to see her do a little more actual police work before she's crowned Lieutenant Of The Year, but it's nice to see her not fall flat on her face despite LaGuerta's attempts to trip her. Matthews goes on that her dad would be very proud of her, and concludes with, "Keep up the good fucking work!" I mean, I get it, Matthews, but I really don't think there's any need to encourage her. She smiles and thanks him before heading out, and successes aside, she obviously hasn't learned a thing about walking in heels.

Anderson appears and asks which of "Crockett" and "Tubbs" (heh) owns the Firebird, and when Batista owns up, Anderson tells him, "You park like a dick." Nice. Batista and Quinn, still apparently stoned from that awesome expired pot, giggle at that, and then Deb appears, pulls Anderson aside, and thanks him for his advice. Apparently taking this as a cue to continue to be a thorn in her side/keep her on her toes, he suggests she watch the language, but she crows that people liked it. Quinn and Batista then come in and inform them that they talked to the preacher, and it turns out he's obsessed with a Revelations expert named James Gellar. Anderson is familiar with the name, having used that amazing police technique called "Googling," and as he tells us he was a professor at the University of Tallahassee, pulls up his website, which is titled "The Beginning Of The End" and has a picture of EJO on it; not only that, the updates end on the day of the first murder. Anderson says he's been trying to get in touch with him, but Batista and Quinn laugh at how they have better information at the moment -- according to the preacher, Anderson went underground. Well, I am no expert on internet forensics, but that website being updated so recently is a place to start, no? Batista, however, is focused on telling us that Gellar went underground because he lost his job after being accused of stealing an ancient sword that, according to legend, belonged to John The Revelator. Deb congratulates them on their work, and even Anderson nods in appreciation, and I'm sorry but CAN YOU START CHECKING INTO THAT WEBSITE, PLEASE?

The sun is just coming up when Colin Hanks awakens (they're presumably in Erin's apartment) in bed, alone. He sleepily gets up and heads into the kitchen (by the way, this place is awfully big for a young waitress, not that that's going to be relevant for very long), and finds Erin seated on the floor, bound and gagged and obviously terrified. EJO tells Colin Hanks he must have known this would happen; Colin Hanks begs EJO to let her go, but he tells Colin Hanks he should have thought of that before he "defiled" her. Again, something is very off, as the girl has not looked EJO's way or given any acknowledgement that he's there, not to mention the more pedestrian question of how EJO tracked the place down and broke in. Of course, if EJO is a figment, none of this can really be happening completely as depicted, so it seems pointless to get bogged down in details. I mean, if he tied her up himself, Colin Hanks would have to be completely DID to be surprised by the situation in the kitchen; again, no matter what the reveal, I doubt the details are going to add up. Anyway, EJO says she's part of God's plan now, which, I have no doubt is great for her.

In the hospital, with Harrison asleep, Dexter petulantly tells Harry that his prayer didn't mean anything, and I don't really know where to start with that, but Harry tells him he did make a pact. Not that he promised anything specific that we know of, but whatever, we haven't heard the last of this, obvs. Deb then calls with news of a crime scene in Coral Gables -- a gardener at the Botanical Gardens found an alpha and an omega outside the greenhouse. Dexter isn't sure he should leave, but Jamie tells him it'll be fine -- Harrison probably won't even wake up until he's back. Dexter is convinced...

...and after a driving DVO you don't really need to know about, Deb leads Dexter to the tableau -- the alpha and omega, painted on the ground in blood and surrounded by fish. Masuka jauntily proclaims it the "Catch Of The Day," like NOT NOW MASUKA, before Dexter notices some blood on a nearby plant, and nice police work everyone else. I mean, I could see them not catching that particular bit of blood, but given that the two other scenes involved CORPSES you'd think they'd figure this isn't all there is. Dexter follows the trail of blood to the greenhouse and finds evidence that it leads inside, so he, Deb, and Batista enter, with Quinn and two uniforms following closely behind. And I have to tell you, all nitpicks aside, this part was crazy scary in both lead-up and payoff. Deb's the first to see Erin, strung up and gagged in another room, and when I saw she was alive I knew it was going to be worse than if she was dead. She shakes her head violently and gives some muffled yells in a clear attempt to dissuade them from coming closer, and my one problem with the scene -- and it's a big one -- is that no one clued in to that. Her meaning is exceedingly plain: DON'T APPROACH. As we get a better look at her, we see she's wearing some sort of nasty studded collar, and she appears to be hooked up to some sort of pulley system. Anyway, Deb gets her meaning and looks down to see a telltale trip wire, but even as she yells a warning she's too late, as the stupid female uniform, edging ever closer, has set the thing off, releasing a mechanism that drops the girl and, I think, forces some of the studs into her neck, instantly killing her while spreading her arms out, whereupon you can see she's got angel wings attached to them. And I don't care how jaded you are - that was VIOLENTLY disturbing.

Deb's face shatters as she runs forward and says they have to help her, but there's blood running everywhere, and Dexter has to tell her the obvious fact that Erin's jugular and carotid arteries are severed, and there's no hope for her. Meanwhile, the uniform that actually killed the girl has NO REACTION AT ALL. Like, I hope you don't think you're getting any overtime today, honey. DVO unnecessarily tells us that the killer is officially now serial, but then redeems himself when he notices there's a buzzing noise in the room, in another of the "That Ain't Good" things going on in this episode. Batista locates the source, a wooden cabinet in the room, and pulls it open, like, WAY TO LEARN A LESSON FROM THE DEAD GIRL HERE, GUYS. He's rewarded for his indiscretion by a swarm of locusts flying and assaulting everyone; some of them flee outside, causing everyone to hit the deck -- except for Colin Hanks, who's on the scene and is staring at them in joyful wonder. Dexter notices him, and figures he's Murderer Number Two, which, okay, I guess they're using the idea that there are two murderers because it's the easiest way for Dexter to get on Colin Hanks's tail without anyone else having reason to. It's so lazy, hoping people won't notice the logical discrepancies, but anyway, Dexter's not wrong in this case. We'll see what he does about it week.

John Ramos is a writer and film producer living in Los Angeles. Believe it or not, he's worked with Michael C. Hall, as well as Lucy Liu and Peter Fonda, on his film "East Fifth Bliss," which will be in theaters in March 2012 and about which you can get information here. Also, he writes about film and television on his blog "Pull Up A Chair," which he would just love for you to visit. And you can follow him on Twitter here.

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