Bill finds Ben down there crying, saying he hates Barb. "She just doesn't want you to get hurt," Bill excuses. Yeah, there was a little more to it than that, I think. Sabotaging her son's relationship to make him stop doing the bouncy-bouncy wasn't entirely altruistic of her. Ben is inconsolable, so Bill does the only thing he can think of: offer Ben a pony. Except not a pony, but to make a him a priesthood holder, which is cheaper anyway. Bill confides in Ben about the company he's investing in that will allow them to one day live the Principle openly, if that's what Ben wants. "Does mom know?" Ben asks. "We'll keep it between you and me for now, okay?" Bill says. The look Ben gives Bill indicates that the irony of secretly pursuing a life of no more secrets doesn't escape him. Bill tells him, "I want this life to be better for you than it's been for me, but I can't do it all alone. I need you to help me get there." It's too bad Don isn't here to see Bill saying that to Ben. Don could say, "Run!"
Lois runs up to her Laundromat, to find a worker hanging a "For Lease" sign above the door. She looks devastated as Bob Dylan's version of "Knockin' on Heaven's Door" starts playing. Why is that song significant? We're about to find out.
Meanwhile, Roman walks out of Chili John's to find two female Greenies in mainstream clothes waiting for him. "Roman Grant?" says one of them, and pulls out a revolver without waiting for an answer, scrunching up her face as she pulls the trigger. She's a shitty shot, because even at point-blank range, her first round -- silent, under the music -- barely grazes Roman's right shoulder. As he grimaces in pain, the second bullet scratches his left shoulder, mirroring the first. As for the third, it goes squarely into his belly and he finally goes down. Okay, maybe winging him symmetrically like that was intentional. Again, there's probably symbolism at work that's over my head. The Greenies take to their heels. Alby dashes over from a Hummer parked nearby, his lips forming the shouted word, "Papa!" Adaleen appears to be just returning from some shopping in the city, as we see her running toward Roman with a bag in each hand and her mouth distended in horror. They kneel on the sidewalk on either side of Roman, who isn't moving and whose eyes are closed. Blood flows onto the sidewalk, a thick stream that's more than halfway to the gutter already. Bob Dylan tells us exactly what Roman is doing right now.
In the Henrickson basement, Ben kneels on a folded rug while Bill stands over him, his hands on Ben's head and reciting whatever you say when you're making someone a priesthood holder. Apparently from memory. Not to knock anybody's religious devotion, but maybe Bill would be a little better at strategy if he didn't lug all these hefty chunks of scripture around inside his head.