Because TV is the kind of place where a blunt statement like Xander's would be oh so uninteresting unless immediately directly contradicted, we cut to a dead guy lying on the floor. Slow camera pan around a scene of mayhem -- eleven, maybe more, young people lie sprawled around a room, all dead, splattered with blood, and with a large gory wounds in their chests. Blood puddles across a pool table. The camera finds Anya slumped against the wall in the dark. She stares blankly. Her white retro dress is covered in blood, as are her hands, which lie limply in her lap. "What have I done?" she breathes. From a distance, the ethical dilemma of the week approaches.
After the commercial, a man and a woman wearing khaki Trading Spaces shirts enter the frat house, along with a tall, rather svelte woman with an expensive-looking haircut who says, "Okay, we've had some time to clean up a bit, now let's start taking up this bloodied carpet and see what's underneath!" Heh. I made that up. I can just see Frank painting the sub-floor red and tossing down a few rag rugs as a solution for the problem, though.
Serious change of scene. The color of the film has gone sepia. Old-timey scratches run along the edges of the screen. We're inside a rustic wooden dwelling. Anya, with long brown hair and wearing a medieval-looking dress, wanders onscreen, cuddling a bunny. See, in the last scene she just finished ripping the hearts out of frat guys, and now the innocent rabbit-stroking provides a dramatic contrast and -- oh, I bet you got that, right? A caption reads "Sjornjost, 880." Anya puts the bunny down with a kiss. Enter a mountainous jolly sort who looks suspiciously similar to the troll we saw in the previouslys, only with no horns, hammer, or green make-up. Yep, that's Olaf, pre-trolling. He addresses Anya in what seems to be improv Swedish, except that this is ninth-century Scandinavia, so they are probably speaking improv Old Norse. It's really quite convincing for most of the scene, and I applaud both of the actors. Olaf refers to pre-vengeance demon Anya as "Aud." He tells her he's hungry, and she worries that he's injured, as he smells of "blood and musk." He laughs that off, saying that some wretched trolls are no problem for the mighty Olaf. "The mere though of them makes me bend at the knee and flex!" he brags, doing just that. Aud asks him to sit, and goes to fetch him some mead. Olaf looks around the room at the abundant quantity of rabbits and asks if they're increasing in number. Aud mentions that rabbits breed quickly (probably a cliché even in the ninth century), which causes Olaf to leap up and declare, "All this talk of breeding it makes me want to breed!" Aud smiles indulgently, but has him sit back down for his meal. Looks like she's going to serve him some of Trader Joe's mixed baby greens out of a fine hand-crafted oak bowl I think I saw on special on the Pottery Barn site. She mentions that she has devised a plan to give her rabbits to the people of the town, "exchanging them not for goods or services but for goodwill and the sense of accomplishment that stems from selflessly giving of yourself to others." Olaf laughs, and his captions read, "Ha, ha, ha!" He calls her logic "insane and happenstance," and makes a major tactical error by laughing about how the bar matrons speak of Aud. Aud is pissed to hear that Olaf has been to the bar, but he says it's not his fault that people don't like Aud because she "speaks her mind and is annoying." Suddenly, I feel much kinship with this Aud. Aud is worried that a rival called Rannveig was at the bar, but Olaf insists he's not interested in Rannveig. Apparently Rannveig's hips are "large and load-bearing," and they pale in comparison to Aud's narrow hips. He pulls her onto his lap and assures her he could not want for another. She begs his forgiveness, saying that she just loves him so much she could burst.