...The Cypriot Leprechaun deals the final pocket cards and flop. We don't see what Darling Sammy's holding, but the flop is an ace and a pair of fours. Just so you know. Anyway, because The Manwitch decided to taunt Darling Sammy with news of Old Dean's supposedly impending demise and because The Manwitch refuses to allow Darling Sammy to leave the table until the game is well and truly finished, Our Dear Boy immediately goes all in. The turn and the river are a seven and a nine, respectively, but they don't matter because The Cypriot Leprechaun's holding a pair of aces for a full house. Dun-dun-DUN! Or not, because Darling Sammy is of course holding the other two fours. Huzzah! The Manwitch admires Darling Sammy's moxie, or some such bullshit, The Longtime Companion weeps tears of joy whilst fingering her significant locket, or some such bullshit, and Dashing El Deano is instantly restored to full health. Now, what in the goddamned motherfucking hell are they going to do with the remaining five godforsaken minutes of this misbegotten abomination of an episode?
Well, they start by trying to make us care about these characters that we've never seen before and shall never see again after this evening, and I realize that what I'm about to say may be shocking, but: They fail. The Longtime Companion opens that significant locket of hers, revealing the aforementioned photographs of her now-deceased and much-missed daughter as both a rosy-cheeked infant and an ancient deathbed biddy, and I think he calls her "Leah" which totally doesn't matter right now because, after all, I never told you fine people that his name was "Patrick," and she pleads with him to reverse whatever magical mojo he'd been laying on her well-preserved derriere over the last century or so because "it's not natural" for a mother to bury her centenarian of a daughter, or something like that, and after many tears are shed, The Manwitch complies. I should note, I suppose, that my problems with this scene do not include the performances offered by the actors involved -- though, you know, there is that crappy accent Ozsan's attempting to pass off as legitimate, but we'll pretend I never mentioned it -- because both are certainly hitting all of the correct notes, but seriously: NO ONE CARES ABOUT THESE PEOPLE. "EEEEEEEEEEEEE!" Oy. So, long story short, they play one last hand, both of them going all in. He's got two pairs, kings over queens, and she has absolutely nothing, so she immediately morphs into a raisin and dies. Next!