In the trunk of a very scary car, there's a very scary bag. And in that very scary bag, there are some very scary things. And the owner of those very scary things --a length of rope, a gigantic scary knife, some duct tape, a Bible -- is a very scary one-testicled son of the Prophet. And inside that very scary son of the Prophet, there is a bunch of very scary stuff we only guessed at. Roman tells Alby to "rest tonight" and prepare for the task ahead, and he gives him a blessing, including the usual boilerplate, and that God's work will "be done through [Alby's] hand tomorrow." Alby asks Papa if one of the Hummers wouldn't be "more efficient," and I don't think that word "efficient" means what he thinks it means. Roman tells him in that prophetic, grandiose way of his that I love so much, that "the Buick will suffice," and reminds him again that he's doing God's work. (Not yet, but he will be, if he plays his cards right! That dude is FINE!) Alby's still not really buying it, so maybe Nicki knocked some sense into him, but of course he smiles and drives off in the Buick. Roman asks them to summon Joey. Oh, man. I hate Joey, and all, but he's already such a loser, you know? Don't pile it on.
Lois squeegees a dump truck with the usual barely-contained bitter hysteria, and gasses the guy up. Inside her station, Rhonda's eating one of those...red and yellow packages, right, and there are the little nugget caramel ones, Sugar Babies, and then there are the slab-on-a-stick ones, and I can't remember what those are called, but if I'm right and they're called Big Daddies, that's effing sick, dude. Lois tells her they're not good for her teeth, and Rhonda points out that (a) she likes them, and (b) she can have whatever she wants. Lois asks if she knows "what's up with these 'dozers" that are all over the show this week. Rhonda says she doesn't and asks if they're bothering Lois. I am fascinated by Rhonda as a person, because of how much she must hear, and what it would turn into in her weird little mind. Like, maybe she overheard the whole eviction plan and knows what's up, or she knows nothing and is just being creepy like always, but I always wonder if it isn't somewhere in the middle, and she just fills in the blanks for herself, like kids do. Lois's wording here is interesting, talking about how one of them pulled up hours ago and just sat there, then pulled up suddenly for gas. "Who knows what it's up to?" Like there's not a person, just these dinosaur-looking trucks menacing her family. Maybe I should be scared of finding common ground with Lois, but I totally get that: "Who knows what that dump truck is up to? I don't trust dump trucks." You know? Rhonda notifies her that there is also one outside of Lois's house, and has been since this morning, sitting and waiting. "It's creepy." Rhonda makes her scary little tight-lipped monster face, and out of the window, one of the bulldozers raises to Lois, like a hand saluting her. She checks her purse for her gun, because she is both armed and deeply crazy, and we might need to remember that for later.