Later, outside the Juniper Creek meeting hall, an even-more-addled-than-most Creeker is ranting at the gathering people about Roman Grant being the one true prophet. Which is rather lucky for everyone there, really. On her way into the building, Lois makes a brief detour to snap, "Shut up, Patsy." Needless to say, Patsy doesn't, going on street-preacher style about "wicked poo poo." Lady, if you'll pardon the expression, it seems to me you're preaching to the already-beaten-down, brainwashed, enthralled, controlled, Stockholm-syndrome-suffering cultists. Wait, that wasn't an expression.

We join the meeting in progress, where Roman is sitting up on a platform with Wanda standing before him as everyone watches, Roman backed up by a couple of uniformed Juniper Creek rent-a-cops. Roman asks Wanda to answer the questions on the written questionnaire, and Wanda just sticks to her story: Alby stopped by on the day in question and asked about Joey. "I tried to call Joey, couldn't get him, told that to Alby, and then he left." Roman would rather she stuck to the questionnaire. "It was in the morning," Wanda says, consulting her printed sheet. Everyone else in the hall has got their own copy to follow along with the questioning, like twisted prayer missals or something. Roman tries to throw Wanda off track by saying that people passed their cabin and saw Alby's truck parked outside in the afternoon. Unrattled, Wanda just shrugs that she doesn't know anything about that. "Lies!" bellows a voice from the back of the hall. It's Alby, of course, wheeling himself up the aisle in a wheelchair and a suit, going on about witnesses who saw Alby's truck parked outside Wanda and Joey's place for six hours, and other witnesses who later saw Wanda and Lois driving Alby's truck. "You didn't know that, did you?" Alby smirks. Roman sighs wearily at his son's heavy-handedness and wonders how they're ever going to get back to the printed questionnaire after this grandstanding interruption. Wanda isn't any more shaken by this development than she was before and refuses to change her story. Alby gets to his feet, clamping his hands over his kidneys as he accuses Wanda of conspiring with Lois to kill him. He turns to the hall at large, asking, "Who orchestrated the attempted murder of me?" Surprisingly, nobody in the silent hall seems won over by Alby's blanket accusation.

Post-dinner at the Henricksons' homes plus, Nicky is accepting Barb's compliments regarding the meal, oh-so-graciously adding, "Margie helped." Ben's out in the living room playing "Copacabana" on the piano in full military-school uniform, an act which in itself borders on Dadaism. Sarah's sitting next to his piano bench, and Teeny's sitting by herself, singing "Hound Dog" under her breath while Margene paces the floor with one of her babies. This is what it's all about, right? Family time together, as a group? Then why does it seem so much like they're under siege? Also, I think they're short a baby. Barb watches it all thoughtfully. But Bill is trying to keep the mood light, doing a little Mormon home schooling of Nicki's kids. He shows them a picture of Tikal in Mexico, saying it was "built during the times of the Book of Mormon." He shows them Lake Atitlan, "Likely source of the waters of Mormon." Here, I'm afraid that I must confess to my almost total ignorance of the Mormon faith, having been raised in a much more sensible and scientifically-based religious tradition in which I ate bread that was supposed to be part of a dead guy. Bill suddenly gets the idea of driving to the Holy Lands next summer. Off the kids' skeptical reaction -- and let me say that driving to the Holy Lands was certainly never floated as an option during my Catholic childhood -- Bill insists that he and "your Mother Barbara" did just that nine years ago. You know, back when the words "mother" and "Barbara" didn't require each other as modifiers. He goes on about the trip and what it's like down there: "The people weave their clothes and they eat exotic tropical food." He's desperately trying to engage Barb in this conversation, and I'm thinking that maybe a run for the border isn't the idea he wants to be putting in her head right now.