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Like rain on your wedding day, the calming, wise presence of OB-GYN Alanis Morissette arrives about three seasons too late to have any influence on Nancy's constant Armageddon. On the other hand, Nancy learns it's not too late to terminate the pregnancy. Andy's all for it, but Nancy plants an herb garden instead of acting or thinking on her own behalf in any way. Twelve hours later, the plants are dead, and Celia -- having witnessed the disposal of Sucio's body by Esteban's men -- is blackmailing her for Ikea money.
Ignacio takes Isabelle and Shane to get the weed back from Hot Ginger Teacher Guy, and they jack him for a bunch of bachelor stuff -- Zune, theremin, rollerblades, the usual -- but it might as well be ten thousand spoons, since Nancy drags him back to apologize. Of course, HGTG shoves Shane around, so Nancy -- Mama Bear hormones and years of parental guilt boiling away -- goes after the guy with a baseball bat. It's stunning. In the funniest and cleverest episode of the season, it's still a standout scene.
Silas and Doug have a meeting with "pot agent" and all-around sex god URBANIAK, which ends in a samurai attack. Later, they fight like cats and dogs -- or rather, like Silas and Judah used to, or Josh and Doug used to -- and eventually end up crying in each other's arms. I can't believe it took me this long to figure out what was going on there, but it's amazing -- and not unlike a free ride when you've already paid, considering Silas makes a better man than faux-father Doug on his best day.
Andy finally gets the money from Judah's summer fling in the grossest possible way -- in the company of shitting, barfing homeless guys, in fact -- but the black fly in his particular chardonnay is that the freedom it earns them scares Nancy so much she decides to move in with Esteban after all, bringing Shane along. Isn't that... What's the word I'm looking for?
Want more? The full recap starts right below!Andy's sitting with Nancy in the waiting room of the Ren Mar Women's Health Center, where a youngish woman is eating a fast-food sandwich, much to Nancy's pregnant horror. She sits there staring at the girl with cute buns in her hair, looking like she's going to vomit out of every orifice including her eyes and ears, and the whole time she's bitching quietly about how the sandwich isn't even food, just nitrates and filler and whatever, and she doesn't even know what "filler" really means but she's upset by it just the same.
Meanwhile Andy's reading pamphlets about lady parts and decides that the scariest thing, out of all the scary things, that a woman's body is capable of doing is the whole period-sync thing. He calls it primal and like something wolves would do, and surmises that Nancy is probably an alpha she-wolf, menstrually speaking, and that wherever she goes all the other women's wombs probably just snap to it. My own theory is that Nancy's period wouldn't let anybody else have a period, when she's around, because it would steal focus.
Finally, apologizing in advance, Nancy notifies the young lady that her food is not of a high enough quality for Nancy's tastes. This is actually because Nancy is grossed out by the smell of it, but we're going to agree that in fact it's because she's self-righteous, as if that's better. The girl notifies Nancy that A) it's not a baby yet, and B) she's not keeping it anyway. Andy nods. "Hoovertown. We used to call it going to Van Nuys." Nancy's horrified, but he keeps going. "Because the place we went to was in Van Nuys?"
Nancy apologizes to the young lady for bothering her, and Andy goes on about how it's not even that big a deal, he went to Van Nuys like five times over the years. Well, not a big deal for him -- the ladies "tended to get a little weepy." Nancy's jaw drops ever lower. "Except for Dierdre. But I found out later she had Aspergers." Nancy's horrified, because who the fuck makes so many bad decisions in life that he or she proves party to five entire abortions? Andy Botwin: "My point is this. ...Science."
Dr. Alanis lets us know that Nancy saw her for her first ultrasound, before she started going to the scary alien mothership Mexican office. Nancy complains of nausea and Alanis is like, your sense of smell is bionic, huh? "I could be a superhero." Chalk that one up to the miraculous weirdness of pregnancy, right, but Nancy -- around the teeth-clenching cold of the speculum -- says it's worse because she lives in a house of men, so she's smelling bad, bad things. "I breathe through my mouth so much my lips are chapped! But seriously I'm fine and by the way you do abortions too right?"
Yes. And how late is too late? Alanis asks if she's really considering it, and Nancy says the most honest thing she's ever said: "I don't know. No. I don't think about it." Alanis tells her to create an oasis and surround herself with nice smells, like pancakes or flowers, and then gently asks if she wants to make another appointment. "For a followup?" Alanis smiles. "For whatever you decide." I love this because every word she says is exactly what Alanis would say and how she would say it. If she were a gynecologist.
(But so is this just Stee doing an awesome Alanis impression, or does Alanis somehow warp all the words into Alanis wisdom using her wise Alanis powers? Like if they gave her a gun and made her say, "This jerk jacked Shane's weed," for e.g., would it somehow come out sounding like an epiphany or something you once knew but had forgotten until she reminded you? I say yes, because that's basically what happened on Sex & The City, only instead of thugging out it was depressingly dumbass polymorphously perverse "we don't care about the old folks"/"bisexuality is the new black" Totally '90s sadness that made me feel bad for everyone involved.)
Shane is throwing things at other things in the yard, beer bottles at teapots, while Isabelle looks on joyfully and some kind of crap death metal plays in the background. "Fucking cockbreath asshole dickhead shitbrain mancunt!" Shane screams, which is not bad; certainly "mancunt" is a phrase whose moment has arrived. Ignacio comes out of the house and guns down all the teapots, then turns off the shitty music, so you can really hear all the car alarms he just set off. "Angry rich white children. You're rich and white, why so angry?" Isabelle is so, so funny: "Shane got jacked for his weed? I just like seeing shit break." Everything she says is awesome. Shane explains, and then as though to clarify, Isabelle goes, "By an English teacher," as though that's just the living end. Ignacio asks what they're going to do about it, and Isabelle smiles the smile of a woman who has just come upon her first U-Turn.
Nancy and Andy come home bearing flats of herbs and plants, like Alanis suggested. He's dragging a little wagon up the sidewalk and yelling all the bad things in the world, while she says the names of all the herbs back at him, the oasis. "One in five chance of being austistic," he says; she says, "Why did I buy marjoram?" He clarifies that he's talking about not "the fun, card-counting savant kind" but the "zombie eyes" kind, that you soothe and rock, that are helmeted. But what does he think of coriander? Andy thinks nothing of coriander. "But it's nice in a curry. You have to get rid of this baby."
He tells her about the money -- Which, couldn't Nancy the widow just get the money? Yes, but then Andy wouldn't be the hero, the provider; it would be another taser and another pissed pair of pants -- and reminds her of the waters she's swimming in now: dark, even for her. She explains that she will plant things, and they will bloom and flourish, and smell good, and the moods will rise, and the dark waters will run clear. He keeps talking about the money, and about gophers, as she covers her ears: even if she builds a fence, they could already be in the garden. Sucking nutrients from her soil.
Silas is freaking because they're nearly out of viable plants, even if they've found a dispensary. Their cop friend sends them to the Wizard, who went from real estate to being a pot agent. A what? Yes. Pot dealers and growers are generally too stoned to do math, the cop says, while dancing. Doug the former CPA agrees that math is hard, and says he wants to run point in negotiating with the Wizard: "Nobody takes a blonde man seriously!" He takes a toke off a joint clipped into a ticket caddy as it spins; it sticks to his wet lip and drags his face along with it, inspiring confidence in all three partners.
Nancy, gardening with a vengeance, heads into the garage for fertilizer; instead, she finds bullshit. Celia Hodes has been squatting -- Nancy's words -- in the garage since she got back to America. She lists her hardships while Nancy repeats, over and over: "Get out of my life." But Celia does not. "...Cancer. Loss of station. Loss of tooth. You threw away my tooth. I lose and lose and lose, and you have everything. A baby. ...A Mexican baby, but still."
She begs for "this tiny little pathetic crumb," although it must be said her hair has never looked lovelier. She looks so great. Well, the hair I can see. Does she have her hair back yet? "Albatross," Nancy pronounces, and gives her two days. Leaving with the fertilizer, her eyes go wide and her entire being shudders at Celia's cluelessness: "Can I have my old job back at the maternity store?" As though the world stopped ending when it burned down.
Hot Ginger Teacher Guy, hilariously, is playing his theremin when Isabelle busts in with Shane, who is strapped. "It's Botwin, motherfucker," he shouts, and Isabelle more politely hums, "And Hodes... Jerk." Shane tells Sandusky not to mess with her because she's loco, and she does a fair impression of loco, but Sandusky is not impressed and calls Shane a cockgoblin. "And take Nerd Girl with you, your usual sidekicks are much hotter." Ignacio appears, and takes him out with a slam to the back. Shane offers him a little lesson on narrative perspective, pointing out that while Sandusky believes Shane is a dumb kid, Shane in turn finds Sandusky to be the "titanic loser of a teacher I once had, who jacked the wrong kid." This last with a fair amount of gravitas.
He points the gun in his face, and Isabelle points out that also a part of their narrative, now, is Ignacio, who in turn supplies that Sandusky's chapter will be very short. Forthwith they gank all his stuff (Isabelle: "Your apartment makes me sad"), including his "axe," once he calls it that. As a final act, Ignacio suggests shooting him in the leg, but Shane kills his big white cockatoo instead. It explodes in a cloud of feathers, which freaks Ignacio right out, as well as any viewers who think their pets are children. They bounce.
Urbaniak levels a withering glance at Doug and Silas, but Doug assures him they're as serious as things like "ass cancer" or "Sean Penn movies," as though that's not redundant, and when Silas points out that the cop guy vouched for them, he rolls his eyes: Obviously, CP is functionally retarded, and he only hung out with him when they were kids because his stepmother had Jell-O Pops and CP's little sister let him fingerbang her in the poolhouse. I find the best people to associate with are often part of the drug world. Then Doug tries playing hardball, which for him saying things like, "Fuck you and your bullshit charges. In the butt!" and "Here's a counteroffer: Eat my balls." Predictably, Urbaniak gives up on them with one perfect eyebrow. Somewhat less so: A samurai appears to scare them away with his giant sword.
Celia brings groceries home to a garage fridge entirely full of frost blocks, and in the deep freeze finds Sucio's brass-knuckled corpse. She runs through the house chant-screaming, "DEAD MEXICAN!" All the way up to Nancy's bedroom, who sighs and takes a look down there. She flips her phone open immediately while Celia shivers and stares. "Hey, it's me. Uh, still weighing the whole moving in thing. But guess who I ran into? Our old friend Sucio. Looking a little stiff. So if you could send someone to pick him up? Soon? He's hanging out in the garage." Nancy tells the also-frozen Celia to keep him company, with a tiny smile.
Andy-Judah sits with Margaret-Mags at a fondue restaurant, side-by-side in a booth like only the truly worthless do. She looks insane: Laura Ashley-print dress like you would wear to Mormon Sunday School, voluminous like that, with a big old lace dickie, and her hair teased and curled and crunched and up to here. Andy says that he would have worn his Loverboy headband if he'd known it was a creepy, scary costume date, and she admits she's ridiculous. "But my Guild encouraged me." He doesn't get what she means, so she's like, "Online Gaming World? I'm a mage." He still doesn't get it. Maybe you don't get it. I wish I didn't get it. But I get it.
Believe it or not, she's pretty outgoing and popular there, in the imaginary world. "You're popular in the game. As a mage." She cheers for herself, and she realizes that he "thinks" she's pathetic, whining that she's dressed like Molly Ringwald. "I'm sorry, I have this fierce imagination. I always have..." Andy is sad because he can't remember the last time he really imagined anything. But he will. And that will be even sadder. Imagination's an inside job.
Mags "reminds" Judah that this is where they went on the date that apparently deranged her forevermore, and Judah's like, "I happen to love dipping things into other things!" I miss that crazy Israeli chick. She was the awesomest. Mags pokes a skewer at Judah, reminding him to be Judah, and they talk about how the fun is that you get to cook the meat yourself. "So what made you finally ask me out? You're such a studmuffin."
I'm so glad I don't remember the '80s. You know how you thought all your teachers were twenty years older than they probably were? All I remember about the '80s is being babysat by a succession of Taylor Daynes (big hair, glossy lips) and Nagel/Robert Palmer/Swing Out Sisters (slick bobs, matte lips). Maybe it was just the two, maybe it was hundreds, I have no way of knowing, but I still can't believe anybody ever said "studmuffin" as an actual descriptive noun, it's just too weird. Probably because of linguistics, back then, it was hyphenated: "stud-muffin." No, that just makes it worse. That's so fucked up. Stud is over here, lexically, and muffin is waaaaay over there. But them together and that's like a palace eunuch to me. Not the image that's intended.
Mags supplies the details as needed: He-Judah first saw her in the Food Court, working gainfully at the Hot Dog On a Stick, and he was I guess impressed by her handling of the "batter." She laughs like so: Huhuhuh. He tries harder, talking about how he's just in Ren Mar for the summer, but life is short, and people are phonies, and she's like, "You always quoted JD Salinger!" And he remembers that, that Judah read it every summer, but not much else: "Phonies. Goddamn phonies! But you're not a phony, you're real. And I am real. Me-Judah." She giggles, he gets all intense: "So let's be real together." He leans in to God knows what, but immediately spits a huge mouthful of fondue meat all over her nice dress at what she says : "I want you to take my virginity."
Nancy's going to town on her oasis, hanging up windchimes: little moons, sparkly jewels. No butterflies. She's actually happy for a second, smelling the herbs. She used to visit these mountains with frequency. She hears over the chimes and smells a very strange outer-space sound, and heads inside, where she finds Shane playing the theremin and Isabelle doing something weird in Ginger's Ray-Bans that I never quite got a look at. Ignacio is in the corner, listening to Ginger's Zune and eating a delicious frozen treat.
(It was at this point that I thought to myself, "Sanjay is right, that dude is hot." Not the first time I've had that thought. But the one was all new: "And looks a hell of a lot like Judah." Which seemed random and I had to backtrack and look, but it's true: the eyes are sparkly the same way, and the smile always goes northeast, just like Judah. And given that it's taken me five episodes to figure out the Silas/Doug thing, I'm glad this scene put me on that track.)
Isabelle lies that they found the theremin near a dumpster, which runs counter to Shane's entire mission in life right now, so with a bravado entirely fueled by hatred, he grins generously and stares his mother down: "We don't have to lie to her, Isabelle! I've been selling Silas's leftover c
heese pot, and my shitball teacher jacked my stash, so I jacked him back." As though to corner into not having a problem with it, in order to make clear to her why she has a problem with it. Isabelle deflects to Ignacio, so Nancy asks WTF he was thinking, and Ignacio laughs: "I am so sorry that I exposed him to the world of criminal activities for the first time." Point, enough for Nancy to drop his Zune in the ice cream, yelling about how she can't live like this, and Shane beaming like the sun.
Silas is painting their dispensary a calming, medical green, while Doug draws a blue self-portrait with a pendulous dick nose. Silas, having been screwed by Doug in a major way at least once every episode this season, finally gives in and starts yelling. It's the first time he's lost control. Doug whines that he is well-loved the world over, and Silas calls attention to his completely abandoned practice and general waywardness now. "You hurtful, toothy little shit. Teethy!" Silas calls him Manboobs, and he retaliates with Goldilocks and my favorite, "Mormonface," and then Silas goes for the gut. "Gigantor! Embezzler! Girlfriend deporter!" Knowing he's up against it, Doug sputters. "Deaf girl fucker! Deaf fucker!" And then it gets interesting, as Silas's stuff and Doug's stuff turn out to be... The exact same stuff.
Silas: Bad dad!
Doug: Orphan!
Silas: Abandoner!
Doug: Father killer!
And they can't figure out who they're yelling at or why, because they're both right and not talking to each other, and there's a reason they're clutching so tightly, and why Doug keeps talking that gay shit, and bringing up Josh all the time, and there's a reason Silas keeps taking care of Doug and letting him tag along, and there's a reason they both let Andy lapse as their sidekick, in the laundry room when he went comatose in love with Nancy, and chose each other, and never looked back. It's an inside job. There's a reason Ignacio looks like Judah.
So Silas punches Doug in the nose, horrifying them both, and they fall into each other's arms, and start crying. "Sometimes I think I'm retarded in the mouth," Doug says, but Silas doesn't care anymore.
"And you didn't kill your father," Doug muses tenderly, over Silas's head. "Shane did."
Celia bugs the shit out of Esteban's guys when they come, jabbering her fakebook Spanish at them until they tell her to go eat a falafel. "I've got nowhere to go. I'm between things right now." She explains that she was recently banging with revolutionaries, in their country. "Rudolfo, you know him? Piercing eyes? Total vagina?" She talks about how Rudolfo always used to say that the powerless have to use their weakness as an advantage. Works for the revolution. Works for Nancy. Doesn't work for Celia, because her only weakness is her poisonous, irradiated, highly flammable, chemical body. Chemical, she thinks, watching the clouds of acid steam rise up from Sucio's quickly decomposing corpse.
Mags drags Judah to the pier, where it is disgusting, but she thinks it's romantic. Maybe it was once, but now it's homeless central, and she yells give me your jacket in an unhinged-virgin way. They sit in the dirt near a hobo outpost and she talks about how on their date he was talking about how lame Footloose was, and the whole time she just wanted him to jump her. "Oh, I loved Footloose," Andy says without thinking, and she snaps, "That's Judah's gay brother talking," so he spits, ptui: "I mean queerbait. All the dancing. Homo city..." That gets her back up, and she jumps on him moaning about how he's "so fucking boss" and snatching at his dick.
"Oh, Judah! Stick it in me!" He can't believe she said it. "Judah! Pork me with your hot tool!" He can't believe that either. I can. I work for the internet, I know these ladies well. They have ideas about anal sex that are laughable at best, they are sheltered enough to think incest and rape are sexy and fun, and they have a real problem understanding the difference between imaginary behavior and acceptable real-life behavior, because they never had a single object lesson. And inside each dowager's hump is contained pictures of Jared Padalecki buttfucking Robert Pattinson, and the vast knowledge that since no hot tools are likely to come a-porking, this second life and the constraints they've placed on their own fierce imaginations will probably have to suffice.
Asks MagsLothlorien, "Should I suck you?" And Studmuffin69 reminds her strongly that that's not what they did, once upon a time, while watching a hobo cough up a hairball, or maybe vomit. He's right, she says, and flips over on hands and knees, shouting his name with her rump in the air, and then -- as one homeless cops a shit against a piller and a third scratches his crusty dick -- Andy whispers to himself, over and over, Copenhagen Copenhagen Copenhagen, tattooing Nancy's breasts across a wide expanse of floral-printed polyblend, and bends to the task.
When the knock comes at Sundusky's door, he's ready, with a baseball bat. "Hi, Nancy Botwin," she smiles widely. "Shane's mother. Could you put down the bat? Thanks." She hands it all over, the "instrument thingie," the Ray-Bans, the rollerblades. "And a replacement animal companion. It's an iguana. They eat grains and fruits," Nancy explains brightly, while his mouth codfishes. "Birds carry germs. Major turnoff for the ladies." She turns to Shane. "I'm sorry I killed your cockatoo. He was an innocent casualty of youthful vengeance." Shane says he's learned a valuable lesson about the destructive power of firearms, as his mother nods, so the bird's death was not in vain.
Nancy actually thinks this is the solution, you see, so when Ginger informs Shane that he's getting an F in English and the eff out of his apartment, she's actually irked. "Oh, that wasn't necessary." He screams that Shane killed Seacrest, and Nancy points out -- in straight-up PTA mode, it's amazing -- that Shane also apologized. Then Ginger shoves Shane, and he falls down, so Nancy grabs the bat and forces him across the room and onto the couch. "Stealing from students is a no-no. It's unseemly. Not to mention a gross abuse of your position." This is the best scene in the universe of television. Shane agrees.
Shane asks if he can kick Ginger, since she's got him pinned, and without looking away, which is somehow the most unnerving part, she says no way. "By the way, you're grounded. No videogames, no tweetering, nothing electronic. It's desensitizing. Puts you out of touch with your humanity. You can't afford that." She grits her Mama Bear teeth in Sandusky's face, completely out of touch with her humanity for a sec, and shoves him back down again by the throat, and at the door turns and smiles breezily. "Remember, fruits and beans! Take care of him, this could be a whole new start for you!"
And that's the Weeds I know. It's often helpful to look at structure when you're trying to figure out a show or whatever, a movie or a book. Twelve episodes, four episodes an act: This is the beginning of Act II, and it shows all over the place. I'm not sorry about Act I, because we got Jill and a bunch of dark scary shit, and the flashmob, and the chance to suddenly see Nancy smile and laugh and be awesome after a long while. But I'm happy we've turned the corner. Even if it means something way fucked up is going to happen in two weeks, which is the other thing about analyzing structure that sometimes doesn't help so much: knowing when the twist is coming, even if you don't know what it is.
Back home and full of control energy for the first time since the Tunnel, Nancy informs Celia that if she tries to take a bath in her home, the toaster will be joining her. But that look on Celia's face tells us that this sense of control is not long for us or Nancy. She smiles. "Know what I did tonight? I watched a dead body get removed from your old Coldspot and sealed i
n a barrel of acid. Those guys were so sweet! Even let me take photos..." She busts out her phone, and look: Nancy's house, Nancy's dirty bodyguard, Nancy's dirty secrets. "So yes, I will take a bath. And live in that garage for as long as I want." I love how Celia's horizons have been so totally lowered that this is bargaining for her: fixing up somebody's garage with stuff from an Ikea tent sale. "Selfish, pregnant cunt? Goodnight." Well done, Celia.
Andy sits in the new garden, smoking, still shivering from his pier experience. Nancy joins him, and notices immediately that all her herbs are dead. The oasis is gone black and sludgy, as they both knew it was. "Already," she sighs. "Snuffed out." Andy suggests that it was bunnies, but it was actually slugs. "It's an inside job," Andy says, too exhausted to return to his whole aborted-gopher metaphor. She sits to him in the grandmotherly roller-bench, and he says he got the money. Doesn't matter how -- "I need a shower, I need to be sandblasted, I need a hug, point is I have it" -- and she's impressed. We don't have to lie to her! But Andy does.
Nancy actually relaxes, finally, leaning on his knees: she's back to being unsure. It's not safe in Ren Mar, everything is wrong, Celia's in the garage... "We had a nice long conversation about when flesh hits acid," Andy nods, and Nancy laughs. "Why is fucking Armageddon always coming down on me?" And that's when Andy becomes a man, which is the step after becoming Judah: "You do it. You have to know that. You have to know that it's all you."
She nods, and starts crying; she kisses his knees and curls around them. He tells her to forget Van Nuys, but they have to leave. "Shane did something so..." she continues, but that's just more proof. Even the plants have died. But what about Esteban, she asks. He says to leave a note, and she laughs. "Break his heart in ink. He will understand, if he loves you." Truer words, Andy Botwin.
She lets herself imagine, for the first time in a long time. "I do have nice handwriting..." He starts to get excited: they can put Ambien in Ignacio's smoothie, come morning, and just go. And tomorrow, he says against her protests, they're someplace new. Maybe the real Van Nuys, whatever. "We're a family," he says, and now he's crying too. "And then we're done, with all this. And we'll be safe."
And if you stop right there, you will be. But Andy doesn't really understand her, not yet. He thinks the grand gesture is still there; he doesn't understand that putting himself under her hand makes him part of the scenery, a tool she can use. She doesn't want to be loved, she wants to be intrigued. Overpowered, if necessary, controlled maybe, but those are just symptoms: the thing she wants, the thing he keeps taking away every time she lets him in, is to look at someone and see them as more than a tool, more than useful. And anyone who loves her can't ever be more than that. All that means is that she's fooled another one. She's a dealer: Anybody who loves Nancy Botwin is buying schwag and treating it like gold. She needs the mystery, to see less than the ten steps ahead, and loving her deprives her of that:
"I know I'm just... Andy. But we could be more. I would like to try." Nancy's eyes go tight again, and her tears dry up instantly. She laughs, and holds his hand, and rests her head on them.
And in the morning she'll smile, with her lovely handwriting setting out all the reasons she's leaving, all the ways she must protect herself from danger. And Andy will pack his clothes and his money, fresh from the shower, ready to leave it all behind, and Ignacio will be asleep at the kitchen table. And Nancy will finish the letter, and sign it, and by the time the sun rises on tomorrow, she and Shane will be somewhere new. Somewhere safer. And just as Andy's finally bounding into her room to whisk her away, to Copenhagen or Van Nuys, Esteban will answer his door, and smile down at Nancy, and at Shane, and she'll head into that house, between stone lions.
And because he loves her, Andy will understand; his heart will be broken in ink, but he'll know that until lately he was only ever one of the ones racing alongside her, trying to escape the bear. He'll know it was an inside job; that though nothing is ever exactly as it seems, nor is it otherwise. Because he loves her, Andy will understand that we're all just running from danger and the ways it takes form, and that most of the time we'd rather be anyone other than who we are today.
We could be more.
week: Doug becomes George Hamilton, CP might die, Esteban fights some kind of hipster and decides he's marrying Nancy, which causes problems with a lovely lady named Pilar.
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