Bill is woolgathering in his office when Joey knocks and greets him with a jovial, "Bill Henrickson, my brother, big cheese!" Joey's wearing a suit and he doesn't look terrible in it, but it is brown, which is like TV code for "loser." It's not a complex code to crack. Black = "evil" or "hip" or "powerful, but not entirely benevolent." Grey = "chronically underestimated," "nice guy with some authority," or "stodgy conservative." Blue = "likely to be a middle manager" and "likely to be a government employee who reports to someone in a black suit." And seersucker = "a bit of a dandy." Anyway, Joey comes in. Behind him, Wanda is trailing like a dour little smog bank, dressed entirely in muddy browns. They sit down, and the small talk quickly unearths some cracks in Prairie Paradise. Wanda sighs, "We're trying to run a nice, respectable fish farm, and Roman's making him go off to the old folks' home." Through a gritted-teeth smile, Joey says, "No one makes me do anything." Bill (who is wearing a lot of blue, for those of you who are now into The Semiotics of Businesswear: A Color Analysis) realizes he's about to get a heck of a fish tale. And he's right. Wanda continues, "Makin' him brag about all his football stuff, Weber State, Dallas, sign autographs. And then get the old people to invest in these worthless ranches out in the desert, and it makes me sick. And it makes you sick too!" Joey makes some wan excuses, but Wanda's not having it. She gets up and says angrily, "He's getting Joey to make the old people trust him and then write big checks, and a bunch of them are suing and want their money back. I'd want my money back too!" Bill looks at Joey with some alarm, and he mealymouths some more. But the relevant point here is that Roman's pleading with his cult underlings/congregants/massive clot of descendants for money to help fight off the suit, since fancy lawyers don't come cheap. I think Bill finally realizes why Roman's so tenacious in his shakedowns. And the second most relevant point: Joey has to awkwardly ask for his Superbowl ring back so he can look more convincing when he fleeces the elderly.
And now, the sequence that raised my blood pressure. Margene can't find her keys anywhere, but she found her watch. So she realizes she's running late. She then grabs the moon costume and bolts downstairs to round up the four little boys. Then she jogs outside, baby in arms and moon costume tucked under an elbow, still looking for her keys. Back inside, across the back yard, still hauling all her stuff, with the two older boys trailing her. Where is her older toddler? Margene heads to Barb's, opens a door, and sets off the alarm. "Oh, fuck!" she yells, then cringes as she realizes she cussed. Her baby doesn't mind (and he's dang cute in his plaid bucket hat. I love when people dress babies like retirees!).