Cue the blushing bride to be running over and proving she has some small talent for acting by claiming she got into the second round of the competition. There are many teenaged girl hugs exchanged at this news.
Back at Juniper Creek, Bill's pulling up to Hollander's place. Some of the plants have been knocked askew -- not a good sign. Bill heads inside and Hollander -- who is quite battered -- is giving Bill quite the murderous glare. So much for that protection Bill was offering, huh? It turns out Alby needed two little friends to help him subdue and batter a crippled old man. Concern drenching his voice, Bill asks, "Do they know you're transferring your UEB shares to me?" Nope. Hollander then lets some sadness creep into his outrage, saying stiffly, "They are reassigning my wives to other husbands. My lovely ladies." Which is kind of sweet. I mean, I'm still not down with this whole "You! Wives one through three! Work the fields! Wife four! Get mah batteries!" thing, but it's not odious that he has such evident affection for the women. Hollander says, "That'll kill me. They're coming back for Erme at five. Two of the council members have had their eye on Erme for a long time." Bill looks at Erme and her well-upholstered charms with new appreciation. Or baffled incomprehension. It's hard to tell. Bill begins carrying on about how they don't have to listen to Roman, and Erme demonstrates why she's belle of the postmenopausal ball: she takes orders well. "He's the prophet!" she quavers, in a delivery not unlike Edna Garrett's on The Facts of Life. Bill asks, "If he told you to jump off a bridge, would you do it?" Erme looks like she just might. Hollander points out how effectively he's screwed: "I'm an old man, with no income and no Social Security. You've got to help me out now! You've got to buy me out now! They'll kill me! They will kill me! They said they would!"
Meanwhile, Margene lays sod. She is quite the worker bee. Nicki comes over and says cheerily (for her), "I think we have a yard! Sort of..." She proffers a wet washrag and says she brought it to help Margene cool down. Then, because it's Nicki and no kindness ever comes without strings attached, she asks, "If something were to happen, I do worry about Barb and how she'd raise the kids. You and I have always kind of clicked, don't you think?" Going by the expression on Margene's face, I'd say the answer to that question is "No." Anyway, Nicki wants Margene to take her kids. Margene is shocked; Nicki actually looks sincere as she smiles and nods. Margene asks about the compound, and Nicki says, "I've thought about it. They really should go to my sister-wives." Margene's beginning to grin, but that stops right as Nicki says, "And I'll take yours." Nicki thinks they're having a moment here, but that warm impression soon dissipates when Margene tells her that she's leaving her kids to Barb. She quavers, "I know you're a really good mom and everything --" here, we see Nicki's expression abruptly slam shut, and it's evident she's taking this as a very personal rejection " -- and you're really careful. I just don't -- I feel like you're not very warm." Nicki gets up and says matter-of-factly, "I am warm." "No, you're not," Margene says. "Yes, I am!" Nicki protests. As Margene protests that it's not a fault or anything, Nicki goes to stalk off. "Don't walk away!" Margene protests. Nicki wheels around and says flatly, "What do you want me to do?" Margene holds out her arms and says, "Give me a hug." The look Nicki gives her in return freezes any remaining doubt anyone might have had about Nicki being warm. Her imperiously-spat, "No! I hug people, but I don't hug people just to make a point," encases those doubts in permafrost.