Thredson's still in the Bloody Face mask, cutting open Lana's blouse with his scalpel, talking her through how most of the women scream when he first cuts into their skin, but don't worry, shock soon takes over. Comforting! She tries to talk her way out of it, and it's not like Thredson is unmoved. He actually sheds some tears as he talks about the high hopes he had for her. See, he's had his eye on her since before Briarcliff, when he scoped her out in the press pool, waiting for Kit Walker to be marched to his arraignment. We see a flashback where Lana talks to another reporter about delving into the psychology of these so-called monsters, finding out what in their lives happened to make them this way. He thought she'd understand him. "I do understand," she trembles, but he doesn't believe her anymore. "That's all right," she says, taking another angle and he cuts through her bra straps. "I don't want you to feel guilty. A mother's love is unconditional." She talks about how he never had that, and everyone deserves it. She calls him her "baby." Transparent as this attempt is, it actually works. Thredson takes off the mask and commences weeping. Then he looks at her, deranged, and says, "Baby needs colostrum." How ... specific. As Lana braces herself for horror of another kind, Thredson descends upon her to suckle from mother's breast. Still alive, though, Lana. Small victories.
We're back in the present day for the final scenes, as the dead imposter Bloody Faces are lowered from the ceiling. Also discovered is the dead body of Adam Levine. They find his arm in the next room, holding a cell phone that is currently ringing. Detective Grayson answers the call and it's of course Dylan Face. Grayson asks if he killed these people, and Dylan Face replies, "Only the imposters." He hands up just as Grayson gets the report that Adam Levine wasn't alone -- he was traveling with his bride. So where is she? Cut to Mrs. Channing Tatum, on a slab somewhere with Dylan Face (presumably) hovering over her. Until next week!
Joe R hopes Lily Rabe is constantly performing "You Don't Own Me" at karaoke. He can be reached for lavish praise and nothing but at firstname.lastname@example.org.