Sarah and Heather hang out in Heather's bedroom, doing each other's toenails. Rhonda comes in, and they don't exactly give her a warm welcome. And why is that? "You're a rat and a liar," Sarah explains to Rhonda's face. Rhonda tells them that Heather's mom wants Sarah at Rhonda's survivors group, whatever that is. "I'm the linchpin in bringing Old Roman down and ending polygamy forever," Rhonda boasts. I don't think she's lying when she says that; she just believes her own hype. And why wouldn't she? The hype all has that pervasive "Rhonda Is Awesome" theme, which Rhonda has known all her life. Sarah refuses to have anything to do with Rhonda or her survivors group, and leaves the room to pee. "You've burned too many bridges, Rhonda," Heather remarks. And here goes another one, as Rhonda insinuates that Heather's feelings for Sarah might be a bit more than friendly. "I knew women like you from the compound," Rhonda slimes. We don't get to hear about those women, because Heather tells Rhonda to get out. Rhonda is sure she's right, and Heather isn't helping herself with the guilty expression on her face. Even I'm suddenly thinking that Rhonda is onto something. Thank you, Rhonda -- making me hate you wasn't enough, so now you're making me hate myself as well. Rhonda lays it out: she wants Sarah to come help celebrate Rhonda's "indomitable will to survive," and if she doesn't, Rhonda will tell everyone how Heather really feels about Sarah. Overriding Heather's protests, Rhonda adds, "And even if it's not true, everyone will believe it, and you know it." "You're horrible," Heather understates. Oh, and by the way? Rhonda also wants Heather's bedroom. Before Heather can deliver Rhonda a well-deserved kick in the vagina, Sarah returns and spits, "What are you still doing here, rat?" Rhonda sweetly compliments Sarah's toenails and leaves them alone. Sarah is too busy rolling her eyes at Rhonda to wonder why Heather suddenly looks so frightened.

In the wake of getting cleaned out and driven out of business, Lois has gotten a job to make ends meet. She's working at a full-service gas station. Sounds like part of the full service is to have the radio tuned to some fire-and-brimstone preacher, whose in-progress rant about moaning and wailing and gnashing of teeth is probably quite relaxing to Lois. At least until some asshole in a brand-new, sky-blue convertible drives up to the pump outside and starts blasting his horn. Mind you, I'm not saying that everyone who drives convertibles and blasts their horn for service at a gas station is an asshole; I'm just saying that this particular specimen is, because it turns out to be Frank. Lois doesn't look as unhappy to see him as she might, which may have something to do with the bundle of papers she just tucked down into the back of her overalls before heading outside to do her pump-jockeying. Outside, Frank sits and gloats in the driver's seat of the car he bought with Lois's cash, an extravagant two-ton hunk of metal, glass, plastic, and spite. Lois starts filling up the tank as Frank gloats, "Ground you all the way back down to dirt." Just like he said in his wedding vows, I'm sure. Lois gloats right back that Frank can't degrade her anymore after 53 years. Frank tests that theory by telling Lois to take care of his windshield. As Lois obliges, Frank gets bored with rubbing the car into her face, and growls at her for ransacking his house. So Lois caps off the windshield service by sticking that envelope under the wiper and telling Frank what they are, which is divorce papers. Frank clearly preferred the dead bugs that were there before. "I'm not giving you a divorce!" he whines. "Well, I'm takin' it," Lois drawls, and informs him that the papers contain a list of community property. That seriously pisses Frank off, and he gets out of the car. In the process, he grabs a shovel that was just riding around loose in the back seat, because fancy car or no, it's still Frank. Recognizing the threat, Lois darts into the station and locks the door. Frank looks angry enough to smash right through the glass, but Lois points out that another customer has just arrived. Frank spits at her through the window, "You get nothin'!" Not even a massive head wound.