Now, by nothing I do mean a bunch of boxes that were maybe there all along, but also maybe they weren't. If I found evidence that somebody had been messing with my sex slave -- I don't know, I can't imagine knowing for sure, but I would posit -- I would probably move her.
Like: "Hey Sherriff Romero, can I store something in your basement?"
Or: "Hey, I'd like to rent a storage locker with 24/7 access? Climate control not really necessary for at least a few months... Oh, I guess about the size and shape necessary to hold a bean-bag chair and a bucket?"
Norma stands at the door, looking at those boxes and pushing on the bruise once again that her son is irretrievably nuts -- and, one would think, also wondering if any of those boxes contains a certain toolbelt she could snag real fast -- when Shelby abruptly, beautifully, sleepily swings into the frame behind her. It's one of two images I rewound over and over, maybe it's the music as well, but something about the way it's done was very awesome.
Shelby, sleepy-eyed: "Why are you in the basement in the middle of the night?"
Norma, fabulously: "I couldn't sleep. So I'm snooping."
Shelby, charmed: "Oh, okay. Back to bed?"
Norma, cutely: "Back to bed!"
NEXT AM: FISHING DAY
Norman puts on his outfit, as tidily as ever, and scowls at his bruised ankle where the girl wouldn't let go with her sex slave dope strength.
Norman: "...And where were you last night?"
Norma: "I took Shelby a pot pie..."
Norman: "Pot pies are our thing!"
Norma: "And then I just stayed there, I guess."
Norman: "I was awake at two AM! You weren't here! I hate it!"
Norma: "You can't keep doing this, kiddo. It's only a bad thing when you're doing the abandoning. (Also, keep doing this. I loooove it.) I know you're jeal..."
Norman: "I AM NOT JEALOUS! YOU ARE NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!"
Norma: "Whoa, that is so not where I was going with that. But continue, if you like."
Norman: "It isn't jealousy if the person really is a creep, though."
Norma: "Here's the thing, the weirdest part you keep not hearing. I like this guy. He's kind of my boyfriend. I know we agreed that he was forcing me to fuck him because of that belt and everything, but... Come on. We both knew. You've seen the guy, Norman. It's not exactly a chore. He cares about us, he keeps talking creepily about how he cares about us, and maybe he does. Maybe he is the one, the one man who is unlike all other men. Maybe we found a unicorn."