After the break, we're back with Kit and Alma's corpse. After stating his intentions to bury his wife on the family homestead/alien landing strip, Kit exits through one of Briarcliff's many overcrowded corridors. On his way out, he spots a wild-haired Sister Jude shooing fellow patients away from the TV so she can watch her stories. Kit tries to get her attention, but she's too far gone and doesn't recognize him. Instead, she babbles to him about how "they" stole the rights to her life story and put it on TV. She points at the screen: "The Flying Nun" is on. She claims that Sister Bertrille has "got the devil in her." Well, that's not a very gracious way for Jessica Lange to speak about the woman who beat her out for the Best Actress Oscar for 1984. "She stole my hat," she raves, explaining how Devil Bertrille flew out of Briarcliff, but it's okay, because Jude can fly without the hat and one of these days she's going to fly her ass right on out of here. Kit looks at her with heartbroken pity. She's gone. He puts a hand on her shoulder, says "I don't doubt it," and walks away.
Upon hearing this story, Lana is sad, but clearly not interested in risking anything of herself to re-enter the Briarcliff fray. And if Jude is that far gone, honestly, why should she? Lana's clearly become a premium asshole, but the fact that she's unwilling to face the hell of Briarcliff again is an understandable character flaw. Kit begs her, but Lana's not going to do it. Besides, she rationalizes, Jude more than made her bed at Briarcliff. Kit accuses her of being hard, but she snaps back that she's as hard as she needs to be to survive. See? I get it. Her beleaguered assistant then calls her away. Lana pays for the coffee.
As Kit walks out to the parking lot, gets into his rustbucket of a pickup truck and drives away, we go through an instantaneous time warp to the present. Suddenly, Dylan Face is in another parked car, smoking a lil' crack and psyching himself up for whatever awfulness he's about to get up to.
That awfulness involves a bookstore that's on its last legs. There are shelves and shelves holding maybe one or two books each, and the Betty Buckley-ish librarian is busying herself by putting stickers on those that remain to indicate just how cheaply you can have them. Dylan Face passes himself off to her as a "connoisseur" of first-edition printings and despite the fact that she says he's come to the wrong place for anything that fancy, he tells her the computer told him this was the only store with an autographed copy of Maniac: One Woman's Story of Survival. The Librarian knows the book, but tells him it's her mother's personal copy. "She credited that book with giving her the courage to leave my father," she says. "She called him her own version of Bloody Face." Strange as it may seem. Dylan Face isn't looking to take no for an answer. He's willing to overpay for it and he even tells her straight-up that Lana Winters was his mother. The librarian's like, "Don't shit a shitter, man. I was a women's studies major. The only child Lana Winters ever had was by rape, with Bloody Face, and he died at birth." Ah, more embellishments. He asks to see the book, the librarian obliges and obviously Dylan Face starts to rhapsodize once more about his mother's cruel neglect and yada yada yada. The librarian gets sufficiently creeped out by him and is all, "Okay. We're done. Bye-bye." But Dylan Face is getting more insistent now. She WILL give him this book, because it's his fate.