Some time later (we hope), Bill is consummating his marriage with Barb. He settles into postcoital babble mode, telling Barb he loves her, and she replies breathily, "And very well." Then Bill says, "You know, you haven't said anything about the Leadership League." No! Bad Bill! Someone fetch me a rolled-up newspaper so I can discipline him. What have I said about mood-killing conversations? Apparently, Barb's cool with it. Bill is totally thrilled about this, what with having applied to the Leadership League and been rejected nine years ago, and now they want him. Boy, Bill does not take rejection well at all, does he? He's all about extracting validation much later. I bet wives #4-6 are all old girlfriends who broke up with him -- he's just hound them until they're all, "Fine, whatever, just stick a fence on the pool and let Nicki have my night."
Barb looks over at Bill and smiles ruefully, "Aren't we the perfect LDS couple? Me, Mother of the Year, and you on the League." Bill says he wanted it so badly. Barb asks, "Do we still?" Bill doesn't see why not, but Barb points out, "We had temple recommends then. We're not those people now." Bill protests that they still live in the world, but Barb reminds him, "We decided not to live a public life if we could help it." And going up for statewide Mother of the Year helps you keep that low-profile private life how? Bill reasons, "We're always telling little lies. We live a life society doesn't accept." That totally justifies telling more lies. After all, nothing says "courage of your convictions" like skullduggery. Civil disobedience is for wussies!