You know, it's times like these (read: "late Sunday afternoon") that make me reminisce fondly about those few brief shining moments between seasons of Six Feet Under when my weekends were free, my TV viewing was random and unstructured, and people weren't constantly calling my house to tell me how great Mike Binder is. Yeah. And if you think that last part was a joke, it's not. Anyway, in hindsight, I guess I don't really remember enjoying my sort-of summer vacation as much as I probably should have. It was mostly an endless haze of lazy Sunday afternoons, cheap meaningless sex, and surprisingly snark-free entertainment experiences. In fact, the sarcasm void in my cold, black heart got so deep at one point that I actually rented Glitter. On DVD. Yeah. If you think that's a joke, it's not. The clerk at the video store almost tried to have me committed, for God's sake. And while it's true that the less said about Glitter the better (especially on Oscar Sunday), I think it's worth noting that when Mariah Carey's acting is the BEST part of your movie, you've got some serious problems. And you people thought Ed Begley Jr. was bad.
Anyhow, like most of my childhood summer vacations of old, this week's episode begins in the back of a minivan. Veritable "Hey, It's That Guy" (and star of the much beloved Melanie Griffith/sex-android flick Cherry 2000) David Andrews is loading suitcases and whatnot into the back. Of course, since every single show opener on Six Feet Under is contractually required to have a clever gimmick, we immediately cut to a hospital, where we learn that the minivan is all mental, and most likely a product of our soon-to-be DGDJ's morphine medication. He's clearly dying of some unspecified disease, but he does wake up just long enough to share a few final moments of heavy philosophical conversation about death with his wife. It's all very Richard Schiff on ER. His wife, by the way, is played by Mare Winningham, who I honestly don't think I've seen since St. Elmo's Fire. Oh, wait. Turner & Hooch. Never mind. As the camera pans up over the DGDJ's head, we hear his cardiac monitor flat-line and Mare babbling in the background about seeing light emanating from just above his head. I think she's probably just seeing the fade to white. Farewell, Michael John Piper. We hardly knew ye.
Fade up on David, surfing the net. You can't see the screen, but I think we all know what he's really reading. Hi, David! Everyone in the forums loves you! And good call on the Brazil nuts. They're icky. Just then Nate arrives and asks, "Whatcha doing, David? Downloading some pics from Man-Sluts.com?" I guess we should just be grateful he didn't say Jerk-At-Work.com. Anyway, David is really reading about "living with AVM," and he helpfully exposits many of the symptoms we can expect to see Nate displaying later in the season. These include "seizures with muscular twitching, loss of verbal skills…even some kind of hemorrhage at some point." Well, that doesn't sound too bad. I think I may be experiencing a few of those right now. Nate doesn't really care, because he could also die at any time from being on "the wrong airplane," so why worry about AVM?
Cut upstairs, where Mare is making a selection from the new casket wall. David recommends the Parliament, because "it's very elegant." Mare, however, reports that her dead husband thinks it's tacky. While David and Nate absorb this, Mare selects a coffin from the bottom row. "That's the Cleveland," says David. "It's a more affordable choice, but as you can see, it's not quite as gracious." Hey! Is that another shout-out? After all, no one hates Cleveland more than people from Pittsburgh. Mare, meanwhile, continues chatting with thin air as she complains that the coffin is too "self-effacing" and "exactly like that horrible IKEA couch your mother bought us." Nate interrupts to ask a question, but Mare chastises him. "I can't carry on two conversations at once," she says, before standing up and stating that her dead husband has selected the Cleveland. There's some more one-sided ghostly banter, which leaves Nate and David looking increasingly confused until Mare admits that she's a psychic. David: "Hmm. That must be very interesting for you." Mare: "It's just more information." Now the director makes Mare move to a different spot so he can re-block the scene, and she takes the opportunity to engage in some of that beloved Alan Ball Straight Talk From The Mouths Of Babes. "You've got a lot in your mind," she says to Nate. "On your mind, I mean." Get it? Do you? Mare assures him that he's going to be okay, although if I were Nate, I'd be more reassured by the fact that my contract extends into season three than anything else. Finally she leaves, muttering to her husband that "it's [his] funeral" on the way out.
Aaron: Okay, let me get this straight. She's kooky, she hates Cleveland, she talks to people who aren't really there, the actress's name comes suspiciously close to rhyming with my own, and she's predisposed to getting excessively meta at all the wrong times. Um, should I be calling my lawyer or something?
Alan Ball: Of course not. Do you really think we sit around the set and structure entire episodes just to give you subtle shout-outs?
Aaron: Well, yeah. You mean you don't?
Alan Ball: No. You need to be a little more self-effacing, my friend.
Aaron: Okay. But if she quotes the Bible, I'm suing.
Nate now opens the "magic" kitchen cabinet to pull out a bottle of mixed nuts. Heh. "Nuts." Remember that later on in this paragraph. He and David discuss what happens after you die for a moment, and we're not at all surprised to learn that the churchgoing David believes firmly in heaven and hell. "Sometimes I kinda feel like Dad is around," asks Nate. "Do you ever?" "Nope," replies David, as he continues anally picking out all the Brazil nuts. Wow. You know, you can read that last sentence in two ways, and while one of them would be quite impressive acrobatically, that's not really what I meant. David reminds Nate about the "Independent Funeral Directors luncheon" they're attending that afternoon, and then Claire comes down just in time to see David dumping his nuts back into the bottle. "Nobody likes the Brazil nuts," she snots. You see? Marry me, Lauren. She's also miffed about the coffee situation, pointing out that "it's polite for the first person downstairs to make the coffee, even if that person has a penis." "Well you know," responds Nate, "it's also polite for the first person to use the bathroom in the morning not to spend forty-five minutes in there, even if that person has a vulva." Aww. I can't even tell you how many times I've had that exact conversation with my own sister. Now Ruth enters, and she's pleased to see that everyone is there. "With all their genitalia," adds David. Bwa! Mommie Drearest is in a big rush, because she's attending a seminar in the Valley that day. When they discover that the seminar is for "The Plan," Claire is worried that it might be a cult, and Nate describes it as "one of those self-actualization things from the '70s where they yell at you for twelve hours and don't let you go to the bathroom." "Oh no, really?" replies Ruth. "Should I bring some kind of jar?" Bwa again! "I suppose that's not much of a solution," she continues, before informing them that she won't be back until midnight. Once she's gone, Claire is nonplussed. "The thought of Mom being self-actualized is kind of making me nauseous," she says. Nate answers, "Are you sure it's not the thought of Mom pissing into a jar?" Heh. Claire's expression here is priceless, as is the clever dripping noise coming from the coffee maker. The sound guys kicked ass this week.
Wow. Who knew the Valley was Sector 001? Well, apparently Alice Krige did, because the Borg Queen is conducting her assimilations there. She's up on stage, talking to a frightened looking woman who appears to be of Middle Eastern or Indian descent. The woman tells a story about how her father had a dream that she slept with a man whom she was not promised to. "For that," she continues, "he set me on fire." The audience gasps. I giggle. Scared Lady explains that she had to flee her home country, and that she'll always carry the scars from her experience. She pulls back her hair to reveal a latex scar that was clearly stolen from the Star Trek: First Contact make-up locker, and Ruth is transfixed as the Borg Queen harangues Scarred Lady into inviting her father to America for a visit. "But he won't even speak to me," she replies, and the Queen Alice looks triumphant. "That is your old blueprint," she exclaims, before setting out the tenuous home renovation metaphor upon which the entire "Plan" seems to be based. Then she singles out Ruth from the audience, presumably solely because she knows the show is about the Fisher family, and proceeds to berate her for "tiptoeing around her own house like she's afraid of waking someone up." Alice Krige is really selling her dialogue here, but the writers end the scene with a cheap joke not worthy of repeating, so I'm just going to move on.
School. Claire arrives at George Doyourememberthis's office, and tells him that, other than her "pager exploding" and the presumably unrelated fact that she's got "hydrochloric acid in [her] hair," everything is fine. "Really?" he asks. "No, but I'm incredibly bored with myself," she responds. "Let's talk about you." Let's not, I say. I, for one, could never be bored with Lauren. She quizzes him about his girlfriend (who's a "jewelry designer," by the way), and he quickly realizes that her recent depression is all about Gabe. Claire launches into a giant rant about how Gabe's family situation is "fucking unfair," and how it "sucks to be in love with a guy who's too fucked up for life." Aw. See? She does care about me. "I really just thought he needed…like…I don't know," she says. "You?" fills in George Statestheobvious. "No, but someone, maybe. You know, some person on the planet who gives a fuck about him for once in life. Yeah, I did think that would matter." George Howprofoundisthis reminds her that no one can solve another person's life. "So basically your job is totally pointless," realizes Claire. Heh.
At a restaurant somewhere, a casually dressed David and Nate arrive for the Independent Funeral Directors lunch. The committee consists of such memorable characters as Stan The Stutterer, Bobo The Old Guy Who Spits And Swears A Lot, and Jack The Bad Joke Guy. Upon hearing that Nate has passed the funeral director's exam, Jack The Bad Joke Guy lives up to his name with a crack about getting a "license to operate a moving funeral." After everyone sits down, the conversation quickly turns to Kroehner and their seedy business practices. "Fucking Kroehner," exclaims Bobo. "Those cocksuckers!" Then he turns to David, apologizes, and amends that to "Those cunts!" Heh. Also, hmm. I'm surprised that MS Word doesn't spell-check "cocksucker" properly. I guess I don't read enough porn. Anyway, Bobo tells a story about how he got five bodies from a car crash, but they wouldn't all fit into his freezer, so the health inspector busted him at Kroehner's request. "I will ram a plastic screw up my ass before I give into those fucks," spits Bobo, before again apologizing to the only gay man at the table. A desperate David wonders where the waitress is. Nate, however, sees the chance to give a rant of his own. "All [Kroehner] care[s] about is money," he shouts, "and it's not just our industry, it's everywhere! When corporations try to squeeze out all the competitors, the further management gets from labor, the more alienation there is in the workplace, and the more meaningless our lives become! The proletariat must rise up against their capitalist dog-lackey bourgeois oppressors! Fight the man! Religion is the opiate of the masses! Make love, not war! Four legs good, two legs bad! Acid is groovy, kill the pigs! Hell no, we won't go!" Stan, Jack, and Bobo love what they're hearing, but David (who fails to add, "We're here, we're queer, get used to it!") is not impressed. Neither am I, since I know this whole thing is designed just to set up Nate's proto-hippie background in advance of week's visit to Seattle.
A quick note here: As mentioned in the recaplet, I actually lost my virginity to a girl named Bobo. That's a true story. I swear. Hi, Deborah! And while the lovely Miss Bobo was prone to swearing quite frequently (I somehow seem to have that effect on women), I've decided stay away from making any jokes about spitting as opposed to swallowing. I also won't tell you if we ever tried that plastic screw thing. Suffice it to say that the mere mention of the word "Bobo" fills me with both a sense of nostalgic warmth, and an almost uncontrollable urge to check if my parents are in the room.
Back to school. Claire returns to George Againwiththis's office, and is shocked and hurt to find a detective waiting for her. Especially since the detective is the same one that questioned everybody about that fire last season that all the Australians are talking about right now. This time she's interested in Gabe, but Claire pleads ignorance. Claire is also shocked to learn about the convenience store robbery, and then suggests that Gabe might have come by the embalming fluid he used last week "on the internet. Don't they have catalogs for that stuff?" For the record, yes, they do. The detective leaves empty-handed, and George Sorryaboutallthis just looks concerned.
At the Brotherfucking Boudoir, Brenda is selecting classes for her return to college life. Apparently Trevor's visit has, in fact, motivated her to do something with her life. Of course, she's only taking one class, and it’s a choice between "Ethics of Evolution," and "Bio-Genetics," so it's not like she'll be getting her Ph.D from Harvard anytime soon. Nate thinks both of those choices suck, and suggests "Cross-Cultural Perspectives On The Afterlife" instead. Of course he does. Then he realizes that once she's a student, they can "make out in the stacks, and sneak into the pool at night and go skinny-dipping on acid." Yep. That sounds like college, all right. Brenda, however, finds his amorous attentions here to be a bit burdensome, and she hops up to head for the kitchen. Nate, meanwhile, is not happy. "Look, it's been a while," he says. "It's been three-and-a-half weeks, and on Tuesday it'll be four." "Not that you're counting," snarks back Brenda. She goes on to say that a sexual slowdown is inevitable in any relationship after a certain point. "I'm sure there'll be times when you're not at all attracted to me either," she adds, twisting the knife a bit. "After a certain point, okay," agrees Nate. "Like six years maybe. But six months?" "Seven," says Brenda. Nate: "Not that you're counting." Brenda explains that it's all part of a normal "ebb." "Well, how long does a normal ebb last?" asks Nate. "I don't know," she replies, "but I think that's the kind of question that prolongs the standard ebb." Ouch.
Formaldehyde Fortress. Ruth returns late at night from her Plan seminar, and finds Claire waiting up for her on the couch. Aww. How sweet. And also kinda sexy in those pajamas, but that's a different story. Ruth joins her in the den, and explains that she'll be going back for more Plan seminars because she doesn't want to be rude, and because she also already paid for them. Claire offers to make tea, which immediately inspires the standard parental response to any offer like that: "Okay, what did you break?" When Claire says she was just trying to be nice, Ruth explains that in the "old blueprints of [her] old house," Claire is only nice when she's done something bad or when she wants something. "Well, that makes me feel like shit," answers Claire. These two actresses work really well together. Heck, even the writing subtly supports them, as this is one of the few times Ruth doesn’t chastise her children for their language. Anyway, Ruth heads upstairs to do her "homework." "I have to write a letter to my dead mother and forgive her for all the terrible things she did to me." Claire: "That sounds fun." Ruth continues, "And then I have to write a private letter to myself, outlining how I want to renovate my life." For those who are curious, both letters can be found here, by clicking on "The Wake." Once Ruth is gone, Claire returns to watching a movie on TV. As again is contractually required on Six Feet Under, all programs viewed on the family TV must be textually relevant to the episode at hand. In this case, it's Badlands, starring Martin Sheen and Sissy Spacek as teenagers in love who go off on a crime spree. I actually felt like the Ultimate Film Geek for calling that one off the first shot of it, but then like seventeen million billion people posted it to the forums before I even got there, so now I just feel stupid. Fade to white.
Fade back up on the DGDJ being drained in the Body Shop (StC = 1,529. After receiving a thousand-point bonus for repeated use of the phrase "fuck my legless grandmother," that earns the episode a solid "A" grade). As they work, Nate points out a mistake made by Rico, who explains that he only got two hours of sleep the night before. I so know how he feels. Anyway, Rico goes on and on about how Vanessa's sister showed up with a suitcase after a fight with her boyfriend, and kept him awake all night with the wailing and complaining. He also mentions (without providing details) that something else came through which allowed them to buy the house. Nate congratulates him, and then shifts over to the real topic of his conversation. After ascertaining that Rico and Vanessa have been together for eight years, he asks, "Do you guys…you know…pretty much…still have sex?" Rico laughs, and tries to play it off. He says that having two kids slows things down a bit, so now they're down to three or four times a week. "Wow. That's too bad, man," says Nate. Heh. Rico says that it's nothing like it was in the first few years, and that "you'd better enjoy it while you got it."
And then The Ironic Segue Fairy cuts us to David and Keith. At a racquetball court. Hmm. Foreshadowing much? Angry Keith angrily complains that he's angry about some guy who's gone over his allotted time on the court. Then David asks about Eddie, and all Keith can muster up is, "He's okay, I guess." Keith is more concerned about his sister, and whether or not she's using drugs again. He also exposits that his mother has come to town to help take care of her, and that everyone thinks he's overreacting. "I don't think you're overreacting," replies David, with a look in his eye that suggests he would claim that not even Hitler was overreacting if it might help get him back in bed with Keith. Keith keeps complaining, however, pointing out that Eddie hates racquetball because he has "poor depth perception." Really? And they let that guy intubate people? Whatever. David gives a little smile at learning that not everything is perfect in Big Black Sex Paradise.
School. No, a different one. This time it's Brenda in class, and man, is Brenda boring when she's by herself. The whole scene revolves around her arguing with a smarmy professor about whether or not the theory of natural selection is moral or blah blah zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. I am, however, fairly certain that Brian Austin Green is playing one of the students in the background. Given that Grant Show is about to make an appearance, who wants to bet that I'm wrong? Besides, nobody's seen that guy since Tiffani Thiessen dumped him anyway. The scene's one redeeming moment comes when a student asks a question about "bisexual genital rubbing amongst pygmy chimps" and how it pertains to modern human behavior. Heh. Sensing that she's been upstaged, Brenda stands up and storms out.
Back at the Formaldehyde Fortress, Nate is making final preparations for the DGDJ's funeral. In the background, The Late Nate has made himself comfortable in a chair. He turns around to provide his usual brand of quirky, quasi-metaphysical thoughts on death, prompting Nate to remark, "You know, you'd think getting hammered by a bus would make you a little less of a dick." Late Nate says that it's possible that there is life after death, but it's also possible that there isn't. "You'll never know, buddy boy, until it's your turn." Suddenly Mare makes the de rigueur ironic entrance. "You see, that's what you were holding on to," she says, before explaining that her husband is still present in the room. Nate turns to ask if maybe she also senses the presence of his father. Despite the fact that the camera pans right past him and the Mark Snow-esque soundtrack clues us in to some supernatural hijinks, Mare says no. "But that doesn't mean he's not here," she adds. "This room is packed. I can't get to everyone." David comes in to tell them that the funeral is ready to start, and Mare suddenly senses that one of them is expecting a child. Nate says it's not him, and David "seriously doubts" that it might be him. "I'm not sure which one of you I'm reading, but I'm quite sure there's going to be a child here very soon." Okay, who can guess what's coming ? I called it before she even finished the sentence. Yep. In walks Rico, baby in hand. A relieved Nate introduces him, and Mare compliments Rico for making "his body look very nice." Rico overshares about tissue decay in cancer patients, and then Nate hustles him out of the room.
At the funeral proper, some random guy reads a poem from Walt Whitman. Too bad that wasn't in the last scene, so I could make a joke about Rico, the baby, and the cradle endlessly rocking. Oh well. Nate and his Dead Dad are standing in the back of the room, and The Late Nate claims that he's just there to help Live Nate adjust to his death. "I am used to it, Dad," replies Nate. "It's been six months." "Seven," comes the obvious answer, "But not that you're counting." Nate looks up suddenly, as if he's just realized that his relationship with Brenda started on the night his father died. Perhaps he should re-watch the pilot.
After the ceremony, Nate finds Claire waiting for him in the lobby. She looks nervous and asks if they can talk, but suddenly David interrupts them to inform Nate that Bobo has sold out to Kroehner. "Bobo sold? My Bobo?" asks Nate. "You think he's got a plastic screw in his anus about now?" asks Nate. He leaves to go call Bobo, and Lauren sighs in frustration. She also apparently doesn't want to discuss her problems with David, because she heads back upstairs.
And now, for the first time I can remember on this show, we get to spend a little time with Keith and his family. He's hanging out with his mother and little Taylor, and Mom tries to hide the fact that his sister hasn't been home since Tuesday. Hmm. Tuesday seems to be a bad day of the week for the SFU staff, what with this and Nate's lack of sex and all. I bet that's probably when their scripts are due. I know I feel the same way about Sundays. Anyway, Mom hustles Taylor off to her room, promising to bring her some Pepto-Bismol for her upset stomach. "I don't want none of that nasty shit!" complains Taylor, before adding a few more swear words for good measure. When did this show become all about kids and old people saying "fuck"? Not that there's anything wrong with that, but it is a pretty handy comedy crutch to keep leaning on. Keith is angry (of course), and shouts that Taylor is only trying to get attention because her mom is never around. His own mom insists that everything is fine, and that his sister Carla left a bunch of messages on the answering machine explaining where she was. Keith jumps up to hit play on the machine, and hears a confused message from Carla saying she had to go see her ex-husband. Meanwhile, Mommie Maddest keeps getting even angrier than her son, and continues to defend her daughter even in the face of overwhelming evidence that things aren't right. Then she threatens to "smack the black right off" Keith, which I sincerely hope she doesn't, as it would force me to find a new nickname for the guy.
Cut to mostly empty bar somewhere, with Brenda sitting alone. Well, almost alone. Grant Show is a few stools down, and he quickly tries to pick her up. After she introduces herself as "Candace Bavard," he wonders if she's an actress. Nope. She actually claims to teach sign language to the newly deaf, because it's "quite lucrative" and she "really enjoys communicating with [her] body." "I get that," smarms Show. Then Brenda sees Nate arriving, and Grant jumps on his last chance to ask her out. He sneaks her a business card, and then looks even more smug (if such a thing is possible) as she joins her boyfriend.
And now back to the Delta Quadrant, where Alice Krige is continuing her class. Ruth is rocking back and forth in the audience, exhaling loudly and generally looking like she hasn't been allowed to go to the bathroom all day. The Borg Queen sends everybody out to the phones in the lobby so that they can contact a loved one whose house needs to be renovated or something. Once there, Ruth's only concern is finding a product-placed Snickers bar. Ah, there's the AOL Time Warner we've all come to know and love. Robbie, however, thinks she should be looking for more productive uses of her time. "Like what? Taking up smoking?" asks Ruth. Heh. Also, flick. Ahhhhh. Robbie wants her to call her kids so they can start "rebuilding." "I don't even know where my kids are," responds Ruth. "And the last thing any of them wants is for me to call them on a Friday night so I can put in new flooring." Aww. I can't even tell you how many times I've had that exact same conversation with my own mother. Robbie pulls her over to the phones, where some guy who's been in every commercial ever is virtually jumping with joy and yelling, "I love you too, you sadistic old fuck!" into the phone. Robbie makes her call Claire, saying that "Only [Ruth] can be the architect of [her] life." Ruth takes the phone and dials, and then has a very touching conversation with her daughter about why Claire never confides in her and how Ruth has some sort of "infrastructure" problem. Once Robbie leaves (because he has to "pee like a racehorse"), Ruth pulls the phone from her ear to reveal that she's actually dialed MovieFone. Heh -- but that joke would have been funnier if it had been Kramer's voice on the phone. Or if it was at all believable that Ruth would know the number for MovieFone, for that matter.
Aww. It's time for Sad Claire, as she lies on the floor of her darkened room and pretty much appears to be hating the world in general. When the phone rings, we're supposed to think it's Ruth calling, but it's actually Gabe. Damn. He's not gone yet. Can't we get ForeignAccentedTerrorBoss or someone to do something about this guy? Please? Gabe is sobbing and freaking out, and he begs Claire to come pick him up. She grabs her shoes, and I grab my forehead and smack it in disgust.
Meanwhile, Nate and Brenda are eating dinner. Brenda blah-blahs about her day at school, referring to academia as "a giant circle jerk," and announcing that she's decided not to go back to school. Nate then describes his day, and mentions that his psychic client truly believes that her husband is still with her. "Well, she has to say that, right?" says Brenda. "If she claims she's a psychic." Nate calls Brenda on her newfound nihilism, reminding her about the time she told him that things leave marks on places and in time. Thanks, Nate. I was trying to forget that one, myself. Brenda yaps some more about energy, physics, and matter. Then she adds that "talking to dead people is delusional." Shout-out? There's more discussion about life after death, and whether or not there's a "plan," but my meta-meter pegged in the red-line about twenty minutes ago, so I'm not going to recap it. Let's just say that Brenda's been prepared to face her own death since she read a report about nuclear war at the age of six. "I don't understand how you can live like that," says Nate. "Well, I thought we all did," answers Brenda. Then she waves to Grant Show, who's gotten up to leave the bar. When Nate asks, she says he was a high school classmate, and that "clearly, he's had a nose job." Whatever, Brenda.
And yes, Virginia, there really is a "Plan." And we're back to it now, as the Borg Queen insists that everyone in the room close their eyes and pretend that everyone is laughing at them because they're an idiot. Then she asks if anyone gets the joke. For the record, it's been a week, and I still don't get it. Then again, that's how you people probably feel about the recaps, so I guess I shouldn't complain. Gosh, I hope that wasn't too self-effacing. Anyway. Queen Alice picks on Ruth some more, forcing her to reveal the details of her private letter to herself. Ruth, on the other hand, claims to be perfectly happy and not interested at all in the opinions of "a roomful of complainers." And here's where Ruth gets to deliver HER rant of the week. I'll transcribe it verbatim, as I wouldn't want to miss a single "fuck":
Ruth: You want me to complain? All right, then. Fuck this. Fuck you. Fuck all of you with your sniveling self-pity. And fuck all your lousy parents. Fuck my lousy parents while we're at it. Fuck my selfish bohemian sister and her fucking bliss. Fuck my legless grandmother. Fuck my dead husband. And my lousy children with their nasty little secrets. And fuck you, Robbie, for dragging me to this terrible place and not letting me have a Snickers bar. I'm going to get something to eat!
Touchdown! The crowd goes wild! Queen Alice congratulates Ruth for knocking down her old, "flea-bitten" house, and tells her that now she "can build the house of her dreams from the ground up." Ruth is surprised to see everyone applauding her, Robbie the loudest of them all.
Across town, Claire pulls over to the side of a road somewhere in her Lean Green Corpse Machine. Gabe appears out of nowhere, jumping into the car and insisting that she start driving immediately. He's playing the bad-ass this whole time, insisting that she doesn't care where he's been and repeatedly spitting out the car window. I'm not sure about the significance of the spitting, by the way, as it was either a very strange acting choice by Eric Balfour, or an incredibly obtuse reference to the downfall of Robert Downey Jr.'s character in Less Than Zero. You be the judge. As they drive, we finally get a good look at Gabe, who appears sweaty and disheveled. He just wants to go somewhere they can be alone and talk, but Claire is furious to discover that he's actually high at that moment. As they argue, they pull up to a traffic light, where Claire persists in telling him to turn himself in. He describes that as "a genius fucking plan," but then some moron pulls up beside them and rolls down his window to ask why she's got a corpse in the front seat. Gabe immediately pulls a gun out of his waistband, reaches across Claire, and opens fire, just like we all saw in the previews. What we don't see, however, is whether the bullet hit anyone. Gabe smashes down the accelerator and forces Claire to drive away.
A few blocks down the road, a crying Claire pulls over so they can go back to check on the guy. Gabe refuses, and just keeps begging her to help him. "Let's just keep going," he says, cradling her face. "We'll just keep going and I'll figure out what to do." Claire, however, having seen how Badlands ends, decides to decline. Although I'm certainly hopeful that Gabe ends up getting the chair at some point. Anyway, there's much screaming and emoting, and some pretty impressive acting going on as Claire grabs the gun away and forces Gabe out of the car. As he leaves, we get an insert shot of his hand grabbing a cell phone, so it looks like he's still not yet gone for good. Damn. He runs off into some woods, and Claire zips the gun into her backpack. Then she turns around and drives back to the intersection, where the moron is mercifully not present. Also not present, however, are the four thousand LAPD police officers who now have an APB out on a lime-green hearse. Something tells me she won't get very far.
Formaldehyde Fortress. The Late Nate is pontificating once again, this time to David, who thinks his dad is rotting in hell. Late Nate doesn't believe in going to church to impress God, or anyone else, for that matter. "The only God I know is a mean-spirited comedian in ugly pants whose every joke has the same damn punchline," he says. Then he also adds that David will be joining him in hell someday, citing the Bible for proof. ["If a man also lie with mankind, as he lieth with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination: they shall surely be put to death; their blood shall be upon them." -- Leviticus 20:13] David says that he doesn't believe in that anymore, but Dad just looks smug. "I also don't believe you're in hell," he adds, before admitting that he occasionally does miss his dead ghost dad.
Aaron: All right, that's it. I'm calling my lawyer.
Alan Ball: What? Why?
Aaron: Hey, don't say I didn't warn you! He just quoted the Bible. Right there. You heard him. I'm suing for fifty million.
Alan Ball: Oh, please. We wrote this script like six months ago. Not everything is all about you, you know.
Aaron: Yeah, well, how do you explain the rest of it?
Alan Ball: What rest of it?
Aaron: "The only God I know is a mean-spirited comedian in ugly pants whose every joke has the same damn punchline?" Come on! I mean, yeah, I'm gratified to see that you and the rest of the SFU staff have recognized my many God-like attributes, but what's up with the slam on my pants?
Alan Ball: Dude, you're a freak. How on Earth do you figure that "every joke has the same punchline" has anything at all to do with you?
Aaron: Get out. Now.
Live Nate arrives in the room now, and they chat for a moment about Brenda and her wacky massage schedule. Then Nate asks how long David dated the Big Black Sex Cop. When he hears it was about six months, he asks if the Big Black Sex ever slowed down any. "I was so hoping you weren't going to go there," replies David. Heh. Then Claire comes running in, bawling and begging David for help. Hmm. I wonder why she picked David this time. Maybe we'll find out!
But not just yet, however, as we switch over to Ruth and Robbie in a bar. They're all giddy and laughing over Ruth's "fuck" outburst, especially the "fuck my legless grandmother" part of it all. And if I know this show as well as I think I do, we'll probably be seeing old pictures of that legless lady any episode now. Robbie asks what she's planning to do the day to continue her renovations, and Ruth answers, "That's none of your fucking business." This prompts even more laughter, and then Ruth spies a couple making out in the corner. There's still gales of laughter from both her and Robbie, and then they end up in an embrace that looks almost as if they're about to kiss. Who wants to lay odds on that one happening?
Back at the Fortress, we finally do see why Claire went to David. Keith is there, pulling the gun out of her backpack while wearing surgical gloves. He gently interrogates Claire about Gabe, asking where he might have gone and what he was wearing. Claire sadly tries to cooperate, but she's not getting a lot of support from Nate, who's quite clearly furious at Gabe for everything he's done. Keith assures her that she's doing the right thing, and David is surprisingly compassionate as well. When Nate asks Claire why she's still protecting "that loser," Keith's answer is simple: "Because she loves him." That shuts everyone up, including the people watching at my apartment, and finally Keith continues by adding that he'll bring her down to the station whenever she's ready. "Will you be there?" she asks. "Yes," he answers. "I'll be there." And as he and David share a meaningful glance over the "I'll be there" part, we slowly fade to white.