Ollie Thredson's Pit of Despair. It should be noted that the décor in this subterranean pleasure dome is cold and white and very modern. Very Hostel. Very "end of Girl with the Dragon Tattoo." Lana wakes up to find her ankle chained to the floor. Just at the edge of Lana's reach is the frozen corpse of Wendy, causing her to scream out in grief. Thredson approaches from behind a plastic curtain, calmly saying he took Wendy out of the freezer, where she'd been for a while now. He's long since discarded the glasses and has donned, once again, a very Hostel attire -- dismemberment smock; threatening black trenchcoat. He talks about how he usually skins and beheads his victims, but he had to keep Wendy on ice -- literally -- for "our purposes." See, he intends to continue their therapy. Which, and I'm just extrapolating here, I think means that Thredson's killing taboo-breakers? Lesbians and interracial couples? Trying to keep the old social order? We'll see how that shakes out in the weeks to come. For now, he wants Lana to start by kissing Wendy's cold, dead lips. Morbid. Lana is shaking. He tells her not to worry. "She won't bite," he says, before donning the Bloody Face mask and pointing to the mouth: "I took her teeth." Lana sure as hells screams at that.
I have to say, for as much as I didn't see the Thredson reveal coming until it was almost upon us, I'm quite happy that all the terrible therapy I had clocked in the past weeks has added up to something.
Elsewhere, our pal Judy Martin wakes up in bed next to her bar fella in perhaps the tiniest, dingiest boarding house room ever. Horrified at her actions, she gathers her things and hightails it out.
And still elsewhere, Mr. Brown returns home to find his devoted wife and calm baby (did the baby get a lobotomy too?) standing in front of a disassembled wall formerly full of newspaper clippings. Gone is Charlotte's investigation into the horrors of Auschwitz. Here to stay is the pot roast cooking in the kitchen. He's very happy. She says she couldn't be happier. And as he goes to throw out the junked research, our very active camera pushes in one the few remaining photographs on the wall. The Shining-style, we zero in on one group shot. And in that one group shot, one man. And that man is our friend Hans Grouper. Just over the left shoulder of Adolph Hitler.