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Doug, using some surprising critical thinking skills, manages to get Ignacio and Cesar all the way to Seattle, where they shoot a hobo, and then a feral cat drinks his blood, and it's totally hilarious. Uncle Randy makes sous chef, upon finally impressing Chef Stormare with a duck confit amuse-bouche.
Younger Newman Shawn, stretching beautifully into his role as Avi's parent -- and telling Nancy she's fired from the job, and a bad drug dealer to boot -- joins a mommy group full of HITG MILFs, and while it's thin given everything else in the episode, what we get is very awesome. He spins them a wild tale of teen pregnancy and babymommas getting blown up in The Iraq and such, but the head mommy has government contacts and soon learns this is a lie, and threatens to call CPS on them both.
Elder Newman brother Mike is still shivering from his gay-adjacent activities, so he heads to a college campus for some poon. He ends up making friends with several douchebags of both genders, including Adam from Joan Of Arcadia and a vajazzled girl, and falling in love with the idea of college. Good old Mike. (Hopefully, no crummy little jerks will get you pregnant on purpose, to dissuade you from this dream!)
And Nathalie? Still trying to crack the mystery that is woman, after a run-in with our beloved Miss Jeanette leaves her stranded with no hash and a seriously bitchy young shit of a concierge to deal with. She talks Randy into getting her the hotel kitchen's used oil for the lesbians' biodiesel car so they will give her their "shake" so she can turn it into hash so she can deal through the concierge, but then she and Randy get surprised by cops outside the dealers' house! Consider yourself cliffhung.
So yeah, it was good but moved way fast. Basically -- aside from the Shawn parts, which may be leading somewhere amazing -- it's like that one M*A*S*H episode, only way less happens and there's a bunch more naked Silas. Advantage: Weeds.
Want more? The full recap starts right below!They're holding Doug's face in a fishtank -- Whence? I guess Judah-Andy's spending spree -- but he won't tell them where the Botwins went, because he doesn't know where the Botwins went, because he doesn't know anything. However, his dialogue is about ten times cleverer than usual, so he gives the illusion of knowingness. "I was having a really good day. I won ten bucks on a scratcher. Oh, a day can turn so fast..."
Cesar and Ignacio are of the opinion that Doug is "their close friend," as though they have those or have ever had those, and he reminds them how the Botwins are selfish assholes, so they offer to cut off a testicle. Correctly, Ignacio is worried about the concept of touching Doug's balls, and frankly thinks it's weird that Cesar doesn't share this concern.
Doug points out that he came to the ransacked and abandoned Ren-Mar house with a bucket of chicken and "that Crispin Glover movie with the retarded people," which is really sort of awesome, or at least too awesome for Doug, and he whines for awhile, and they finally just decide to kill him: "We believe you. Congratulations." Doug whines for a moment -- "Winning is supposed to feel good!" -- and then pulls out his phone, spooking the assassins.
Doug has Andy's number listed as "Andy Buttwank" -- which Ignacio thinks is really clever -- and so then he calls whatever Seattle hobo happened to find Uncle Randy's phone when Andy died. (Although that's confusing, because didn't they toss their phones at the border? Whatever.) So Doug pretends that he's chatting with Andy, but really it's this ass-crazy bearded fellow who says funny things in response to the bizarre things Doug's pretending to say.
"I'm sitting in a world of shit, brother... Caught a cat yesterday..." Doug's like, "Sounds awesome!" Doug learns that Andy's phone is in an alley in Seattle, decides that's probably close enough that he might still manage to get their entire family murdered, and then tosses the phone in the fishtank. "I know where he is, I'm not gonna tell you, and if you torture me again I'm just gonna lie, so you have to keep me alive, so I can lead you to him." Not even Doug can believe he worked that one out so quickly, or that it worked.
Mostly I'm just super glad Doug is back, because he brings the constant and charming and ever-so-grown up ballsack faggot dicksucking buttwank anal beads talk with him wherever he goes, as you'll see. In fact, we're going to drink every time somebody says any of those sweaty tacky words in this episode. You will be quite drunk by the end. This is because of Doug.
At the motel, they've got quite a spread going. Seems Silas-Mike bought a bunch of food "with the money he made sucking off an old man." Nathalie doesn't know about that little story, and it takes awhile for her to get the story straight, so to speak. "See? He just... Read to him. In his... Underwear. And the guy tipped him." Somehow it sounds even dirtier in the morning light.
Randy's making some kind of hibachi croquettes, about which he is being particularly annoying because he is still all over Chef Stormare's dick for some reason I still don't understand. He's never really been this boy-crazy before and I don't know what it's about. On the one hand he's all about being Nathalie's moral compass, but on the other hand he's looking for approval from a random person for a thing he's always been super-confident about. I don't know. Randy as usual walks that line between a good reason to date and a good reason to avoid dating.
Anyway, Nathalie jokes about Baby Avi eating one of Randy's experiments, since they're not really a breakfast food, and Shawn is like, "Avi does not eat solid food yet. It's jarring and amazing and intense. Nathalie's weird about it, because he's being weird, and tries to sort of get her baby away from her son, but he tells her she's fired as a mom:
"I'm in charge of Avi. You guys are a bad influence... Your job right now is to be a maid and to keep your husband from finding us. My job is to protect Avi. Let's do our jobs."
Mike is a bad influence, of course, because he yanks wieners for cash. (At this point Mike takes his leave, so he can have sex with a girl, so that he won't be gay-tainted anymore, because reading aloud to an old man might turn you gay or get gay on you. Boys are fucking stupid.)
Randy, let's not even get into it. And then there's Nathalie, who frankly thinks Shawn is cruisin' for a bruisin': "You're not a bad influence because you're a drug dealer. You're a bad influence because you're a bad drug dealer." Shawn's grounded, not that it means anything, and Nathalie begs Randy for validation of her skillz.
"Really, if we look back on your illustrious career, great is not the adjective that pops out at you." Randy agrees that Nathalie had her moments -- and let's be real, she totally did -- but that overall she was sort of a trainwreck. "Try not to get arrested today," Shawn says in this perfectly hilarious, nasty way, and bounces.
You guys, Shawn is the new Celia. He's like OCD Celia now. He asks the same questions she would ask, for essentially the same reasons and from the same damaged places, but there's something very ethical in the way that he thinks that makes it better in some ways. I miss the shit out of Celia.
Nancy gets this horrible bastard little shit of a concierge alone, and tries to set up a drug dealing relationship with him, but he's too busy saying every little-boy dirty word he can think of, so it takes forever, and he wants to sample the product because she is "a white lady with no accent working as a maid in 2010," so probably she... Doesn't have good drugs? Is not a success-oriented personality? Is untrustworthy? I don't really know what he meant by that, but at least Nathalie's back working dudes, which is like her only skill.
Estelle is some old lady that is really condescending to Chef Wagner in front of everybody, and he kisses her ass and whatever, and she didn't like his appetizer, but she could have eaten twelve of the amuse-bouche, which of course he did not create, which is of course the entire point of the amuse-bouche, so either Randy is really stupid or we're pretending we don't know what an amuse-bouche is for some reason, or we actually don't know what an amuse-bouche is and just remember it as a cheffy kind of word from Friends, I can't say, but either way Randy is fired.
Estelle tucks some old lady-smelling twenty or something into Chef's chest pocket and heads back outside to be a dick to somebody else, and luckily there is a plate of the duck confit croquette we're calling an amuse-bouche just sailing by right then, so instead of stabbing Randy in the eye socket like he wants to do, Chef tries it. If his bouche is not amused, Randy says, he can cut off Randy's finger. I wish he would. I fuckin' love it when parts come off Randy.
(At least it would make this scene surprising, or interesting. No, it's not even that, it's that the whole thing feels as rote to write as it is to live through. "Yeah, yeah, he has to impress the Chef in episode four so that some later storyline can happen," or maybe just because of the biofuel thing later in this very episode, "But don't spend too much time on it, since it's a dumb cliché anyway." But seeing that old bitch act weird -- Estelle too, zing on you Stormare -- was pretty great, so it's fine and clearly for setup regardless.)
But instead, Chef is impressed and so now Randy's the new sous chef. Just like that. It's cursory. It's desultory. But it's happening. And then they make Randy think that he has to suck a dick -- Doug is heading ever further north! -- but really it's just that he has to climb under and between the legs of all the people and be spanked by the Spanking Machine, and then I guess because of his crush on Stormare he screams in German.
This is exactly why I avoid the service industry, and its people. It's always some shit like this. Spanking each other, texting you their scrotum pictures, everybody's sleeping with each other, everybody is weird and angry and they smoke like constantly and their girlfriends all do yoga. I hate it because that much money at one time is just asking for a coke problem, but mostly I hate it because it is incomprehensible to me.
"All I want in a boyfriend is for him to smoke a lot of pot, smell like a lard patty at all times, seethe with constant vegetarian resentment, be in a band despite his lack of discernable talents of any kind, and a really striking belief-in-self that only increases by the beer, along with his weird homoerotic/homophobic comments. And if he should text me a picture of his scrotum at some point during the day, well, it's nice to know someone is thinking about you."
So note that today, Shawn's going to the park to find other mommies just like him, while Mike heads to the "Quad" to find somebody to bone, whereas the last time we paralleled them this way -- basically in a normal environment, basically before Mexico -- they were both trying to sleep with Nancy in different ways.
Shawn impresses the ladies with his Yippity! Dragon and some slick talk -- "I wanted thick tires with good tread, for all the rainy days we have" -- and they discuss how a similar one was Yippity-Ki-Yayed out from under their friend Savannah, presumably by "a bunch of crackheads." Shawn, because he is still strange, immediately spins them this tale about how Avi is "what happens when your school teaches abstinence-only," and that the baby mama is dead, having been blown up in Qahtaniya. Maybe he's on the make, maybe he's just riffing, he's such a freak you never know.
"We met when she was a senior and I was a freshman. My locker was to hers. Then I went to summer school, and she went to war. I drank soda, and she..." They ask how he's doing it, and he admits that Nathalie helps. "She's a maid, and we live in a motel. Sometimes she drinks." All technically true, yes. "But you can't choose your family, right?" Not really true at all. They huddle around Shawn. He's not alone anymore.
He's not alone anymore. There's kids Mike's age all over the college, doing their thing, riding their fuckwad fixed-gears, hackey-sacking and downloading music and whatnot. Mike looks at all the talent with a voracity just shy of a Tex Avery hornball, then wistfully joins a Frisbee game and acts normal for the first time since like high school.
It's kind of sad -- that he will always be denied this life, or that he's been bent into such a funny shape that he would never fit into this life -- until you think about the facts, which are that he was a useless little shit until around the time his mother burned down their whole city for him and he lost everything he had. He didn't want to go to college; he did horrible things to deaf girls so they couldn't either. And then again, if they'd stayed with Esteban he could have gone to college like their sister, but he wasn't interested in that either because that was his Doug-crush/mini-Nancy/drug-dealer wannabe period.
He had to get strange and die and become a Newman in order to understand normalcy at all. So if you were to mourn for his childhood -- or any childhood, your childhood, my childhood -- and the shape it was supposed to take, it would only be clichés and the romance of things that never really would have happened at all, because they don't really happen to anybody. And if they do, they don't look like you expect. And if they do, they don't feel like you expect. In the end there's just you, wherever you are. Instead of feeling sad, in the sunlight, Mike just smiles and thinks about the future, for the first time.
Nathalie forgot to tell the jerkoff concierge that she was offering hash, so he's like, "What is this, the Gaza Strip?" and tries the stuff. "Fine, but roll the joints tighter. This is a classy hotel, presentation counts." Heh. There follows a sort of Ocean's Eleven bit in which, as the jerkoff concierge shows how it's going to work, we pass the time seeing it in action. He tells Nathalie he's put new rooms on her schedule, the guests leave money under their pillows, she brings him his cut at the end of his shift.
That makes me sooo nervous. You know what's way worse than going to your dealer's house and pretending to like him as a person? Giving your dealer the keys to your house. I don't know if you know this, but your house is where all your stuff is. A hotel room plays that same role, when you are on the go.
"Yeah, sure! Just leave the drugs on the bed and take only the money I have left for you. Or you can chill out if you want, we got Cinemax. Beer's in the fridge! Don't do anything drug dealers would customarily do! Just kidding, you're totally allowed to rob me. Because of my poor choices!"
Anyway, he says he wants 25% now because it was hash, not pot -- which I don't know at all about hash, something truly terrible, like "execution-style" terrible, happened to my friend's roommate in Costa Rica, so I don't believe in traveling -- and I don't know about the economy of scale there. Is it more expensive? Less so? I honestly thought hash was just pot + tobacco. That was a fact I made up in my mind and decided that it was available only in Costa Rica at a terrible price.
So he calls himself "the one going to a party tonight at Sir Mix-A-Lot's house," which is hilarious and sad, both, and Nathalie then is "the one who will be here cleaning semen stains" when he's gone. She gives a halfhearted "I'm doing this for my family" and he says his funniest line -- "Oh? I'm doing this for a jet ski" -- as he gets up out of a random suite's bubble bath and waggles nakedly around and heads out, big-buttward. "Clean up the room before you go!" he says. I bet he will come to a bad end, this kid. He is a little fucker.
Cesar and Ignacio are playing 20 Questions on the trip to Seattle, which I didn't really realize how far that was, because in Texas you get used to everything being really close together that is not in Texas. In Texas, going to another city is like going to another state, in the East. Or like going to another country in Europe. That blew my fucking mind when I was a little kid, that you could hop in the car in somewhere crazy like Spain and then before you're even sick of being on the road, you're in a totally other crazy country with different languages and foods and attitudes and faces.
Texas? Drive 300 miles under a big hot sun and you'll have traversed the world from Amarillo to Abilene.
Abilene and Amarillo, which are the same town, not just congruent but isomorphic, the same town in the same way that Scooby Doo keeps running by that same vase. You have gone nowhere, you are dusty and whining and for no reason, and with no notable result at all except you are that much closer to the hell that is Fort Worth.
So Doug is whining because they're playing 20 Questions in Spanish and he wants to play along, finally telling them if they want to know where he's got them headed they should guess. "Come on, I want to play. I'm good at games! I was on $25,000 Pyramid! But they never aired my episode because I tweaked Betty White's nipple. She's not as cool as everyone thinks."
(What will Betty White Backlash look like? Did we just skip that part? Can we? The Betty White Thing is just about as horrible to me as Old Spice Guy; somewhere above constant talking about bacon but well below the hated "THIS!" God, I hate that. If you don't have anything to say, fucking don't say anything. It's not a complicated concept.)
Doug, because if it's not about taints it's about clichés, starts telling the boys facts about him -- Threw javelin in college, sleeps with a body pillow, afraid of heights and leading a life of no significance, "My favorite movie is Cool Hand Luke but really it's Steel Magnolias," etc. -- and since it's obvious what he's doing, we don't need to discuss it further. Let's go back to the part where Ignacio goes, "You kill him, Esteban kills you. I move up." That part has promise. I believe in Ignacio.
Randy's talking about the art of apprenticeship, I guess in the pursuit of explaining this storyline, or maybe just justifying his Spanking Machine experience. "Watchmaking. Cobbling. Ninja ... ing. The mysterious lessons. Frustration. Montages. And then, just as the pupil is about to give up... Oh! The teachings coalesce. The hierarchy is challenged. Student surpasses the master!"
After that pretty good little fugue, Randy works on his celebuchef catchphrase, focusing on "Ooh! That's almost too good!": "With... you go up on the too: 'Too good!'" Bored of other people's accomplishments and still stinging from her young son's accusations of bad drug dealering, Nathalie sort of desperately goes on and on at length about how great she was at selling hash today. Nobody really cares. She says she deserves an Eagle Scout badge, but Randy just reminds her those are for boys.
She tries to give everybody the chocolates she emptied out of the chocolate boxes to hide the hash, but everybody wants money. Shawn wants more "contrast toys" for Avi, who I guess is at that part, and his lady friends all have "teething necklaces," and nobody even wonders why he only hangs with mommies now. "You did receive money for selling your drugs today, right?" (How did Shawn become the best one?) The other boys line up as well; Mike says he's auditing a class and his mother doesn't believe him.
Later, Miss Jeanette has discovered Nathalie's laundry machine/hash maker, in which the hash has somehow gone rogue. N
athalie jumps in there with a quickness and starts pretending that the mess is scatological in nature so the lady won't come closer. They agree that the guests are all filthy pigs, because they're allowed to be: "After a shift here," says the other maid, "I go home to my family, and they look like shiny little angels. And them some disgusting motherfuckers." She settles in for the story, and Nancy thinks back to last week.
"This guy... Hairy, disgusting. There was a hooker involved..." Miss Jeanette knows about him, about Phil, who comes through there every month. "But he ain't never been into that. That's some -level shit right there." Nathalie, getting into the spirit of things (or maybe still stinging from the urine that time), is like, "I can't believe this is my life!" Which is not offensive, because they are both maids, until she goes "No offense," at which point it sort of becomes offensive. Not to mention weird.
Mike is back on campus playing practice beer pong with some douchebag who keeps calling him a "faggot." Which with this show, usually would be because they think college kids are doing that these days or something, but I have more faith in the show this season; it's so unsubtle that if it connects at all probably it'll be smarter than just this kid in college being, himself, gay. Every year I wonder why Silas is continually haunted by this ghostly gay thing, I can't parse it but it's always there. Maybe it's just Doug getting closer. Anyway, douche heads off to Culture & Society In Imperial Russia and then Mike agrees with some girls who frankly aren't that great to go to trivia night instead of beer pong. He tells them he's a botany major, and grins really hard.
That concierge attacks Nathalie with yet more of his wit, now that she has no more hash, and says that the only reason he went from suicidal ice cream crush-in technician to "running this town" is because he makes shit happen. Nathalie says she's tapped out, and he awesomely goes, "Then tap yourself in, bitch!" I liked that part. Anyway, what's she going to do, she needs hash to make cash but she lost her hash and she gave away her cash so now how can she make hash without any cash? It's just like that one M*A*S*H.
"Listen, maid, I trusted you because you're foxy. And I don't like sending guests to the ghetto to find drugs. But if anyone files a complaint about me because you didn't come through, I will fuck your world sideways!" She should tap herself on over to her ungrateful children and get that money back from them. Randy's an apprentice now, and Mike's more into campus life than college so far. And Avi's never going to live in a black and white world.
Mike and a girl are in a dorm shower, taking a little rest before doing more sex stuff. They did well at trivia ("How did I even know Wade Boggs?"), and she is sort of cool: "Sorry about the shower. Whenever I have a guy in the room my pervy roommate Greta watches. And masturbates." Mike notes, correctly, that this is awesome, but obviously the naked young lady before us is of stronger moral stuff than roommate Greta, so he retracts.
Mike's lip is bleeding, due to the sharpness of her vajazzling, which he pronounces "sparkly." God, is there anything more interesting than college students? That kid with the constant "faggot" abruptly pulls back the curtain to ask if there's anybody fucking in there, and the girl's like "As soon as you leave!" and he admires her "pussy charms" -- her name is Kimmi, by the way -- and he calls Mike a faggot like eleven more times and then takes off and so they fuck. Mike realizes, at this point, that college is delightful.
I did not like this part very much because it was too real. We didn't have vajazzling back then, just henna tattoos and Sarah McLachlan and the girl that would pull out her pubes with a tweezer whenever she was "bored." See what I mean? What's the point of all those drugs if you can still remember things like that?
Aw, speaking of. Nathalie's back at Chez Lesbian, appealing to Linda Hamilton "as a woman, as a mother, as a fellow female traveler on the road," which road Linda correctly identifies with as the one paved with bullshit. "No cash, no shake. Don't let the hairy legs fool you, this is a capitalist enterprise." Nathalie offers to babysit, or go down on her.
"Joking. Mostly joking. That was lame. It would have worked with a man. Men are easy. Men are the Monday crossword. But women, we're... Sunday. That's why they die before us. The poor fuckers, they blow a gasket after a lifetime of trying to figure out the magnificent organism that is woman. How to make us happy. But really, I'll go down on you. I'm desperate here." And as great as Nathalie is, Linda's just a bit better tonight: "And chatty!"
Fiona comes in screaming in that squeaky little voice of hers about how she hates hitting every taqueria in town to beg for their used oil to make their pretend car work, and Nathalie's been there for awhile I guess because when Fiona asks about Kish she knows the answer: "He peed in the fish pond." Again. So I guess he's in his Contemplation Corner. Linda goes, "Can I have a kiss?" and Fiona hisses, "Can I have a real car?" before running off to yell at Kish about appropriate urination locations. Linda sends Nathalie away, still awkwardly flirting into space like a shortwave radio signal that nobody will ever hear.
There's a cute moment back in the hotel kitchen where Randy shuts Nathalie up about her loss of drug-dealing confidence with a deep-fried something. "In what?" Nathalie asks innocently, and Randy's like, "In panther blood. What do you mean?" Because obviously she's been asking for the hotel's used cooking oil for awhile, and I don't know enough about kitchens to know why this is a big deal, but apparently used oil can't just be handed out to whatever lesbians need it for their locomotion. I mean, I guess I get that you can't just toss it out into the sink or the environment or whatever, but I think there's a reason they would want to hang onto it, and I don't know what that reason is, and I don't really wish to. "It's the property of the hotel," Randy says, and that's good enough for me. But why suddenly is Randy bothered by "questions of legality or morality"? Well, he's had his Eat Pray Love post-flail bliss moment.
You know what would be my Eat Pray Love bliss moment? Getting somebody to go see that movie with me. I am not seeing it alone, that's too very sad, but the way these boys act it's like I'm asking them to dress their balls like Swan Lake while I call their balls mean names in the voices of their mothers.
I love Julia Roberts, it's not a fuckin' secret. I love her giant mouth and her honking laugh and her stomping walk, I love everything about her. (Rebel Without A Cause is my favorite movie but really it's Pretty Woman. Her facial expressions are my bliss.) I can't imagine anything finer than watching that girl eat her way across continents for two hours, taking timeouts to sleep with Javier Bardem and Billy "Manwhore" Crudup and The Finest Actor Of Our Generation, James Franco. All at the behest of the person who invented Mary Cherry, and gave us an Augusten Burroughs I could handle. I can't think of a finer pursuit. I think it should be not only a movie but an amusement park ride.
Which seems like a better idea: The Haunted Mansion? Or sex with James Franco. No homo! Actually though, I can see the latter being a lot like the former. What's that one place where the angles are all weird and you can watch a penny roll right up the wall?
So Nathalie talks about her needs, the needs of the boys, while Randy talks about his imaginary Eat Pray Love enlightenment -- "It's about a woman who finds herself, her bliss, through food! And fucking! I think you should read it!" -- and he hunches down in front of where the big buckets of oil are hidden and the whole time she's talking to him like an equestrian. "Shh, shh. I know. I know, sweetie." But we both know she's gonna have those buckets faster than you can say boo.
Shawn Newman has opinions, about the Cry It Out Movement ("cruel and anti-intuitive"), about Kegel exercises ("Pretend your vagina is an elevator... You want to end up wearing one of those Whoopi Goldberg pee pads?"). But Rebekah, the head of the ladies (played by Jessica St. Clair, delightfully as always), has a little bit of a question for him, which she indicates by asking him to sit down for a little snack-picnic. Shawn, still playing at being a mommy with his weird stilted language, goes, "I'd love to. How are your Kegels?" Rebekah informs him, appropriately enough, that her Kegels are a private matter, and finally gets down to business.
"We know Avi's mother wasn't killed in the Iraq. I called my brother-in-law at the Department of Defense. There were no IED fatalities in Qahtaniya anywhere near the time you said Avi's mother was killed. So, why don't you tell us the truth? ...Or we can call Child Protective Services together?" Sweetie, that ship sailed a long long time ago.
But there's this look in Shawn's eyes, and a sudden overarching weirdness, that puts me in mind of one of my favorite things about this show: The way anything authoritative or helpful, from cops to therapists to rehab, is as scary as possibly imaginable, because they are so upside down in their lives. I think the last time this really came up was with Celia, actually, how for an addict there's not really a difference between getting help and getting caught. It's such a fascinating dynamic and they get stuck in it all the time on this show.
Well, as Doug well knew, the person with Andy's phone is not Andy, but a crazy cat-trapping hobo. Cesar is upset because they just put 1000 miles on his leased automobile ("There is a penalty if I go over the allotted mileage," he says mournfully); Ignacio points a gun at the bonkers old man ("This is my phone. It came to me from the sky. I reprogrammed it so it can make sandwiches!"), and then shoots the bonkers old man when the cat jumps out suddenly.
Everybody wiggles around feeling weird about the dead hobo for a second, except Ignacio who's tweaking on how he nearly killed the cat, and the cat itself, who starts drinking the hobo's blood. Sweetest of the human flavors. Doug offers to call the car company and talk them down, because that is after all one of his skills, doing stuff like that, and Cesar makes him help carry the body even though he's like this close to horking.
I wish they would just kill him. I wish they would kill Doug and Cesar could finally marry Esteban like he wants, and then it would just be me and Ignacio. We'd go make teddy bears at the Build-A-Bear workshop and then go out past the city limits under a heavy orange moon, just me and Ignacio, and we'd fill those motherfuckers full of lead.
While Linda and Fiona do jumping jacks of joy about Nathalie's newfound "steady supply" of fantastically pure biofuel fuel, Randy notices Kish doing something strange and naked in the other room, and once again assumes that he's a little girl. Corrected, a lightbulb goes off over his head: "Oh! He's trying to blow himself!"
Nathalie closes the deal and they head out, Randy still troubled but Nathalie triumphantly brandishing a garbage bag full of shake and shouting, "With my wits! With my moxie! Whatever you can say about Nathalie Nancy Botwin Newman Price, wife-mother-lover-drug dealer, good or bad, I get shit done!" And that's when the cops outside pull their guns and start yelling.
Discuss this episode in our forums, then see what vlogger Sean Crespo thinks of Weeds when he has No Prior Knowledge below!
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