Bullock stands in the doorway of Charlie's mailhouse. "Will you mind, Charlie," he asks, "not being noted tonight from the hustings?" Charlie doesn't even hesitate: "[It would] be a godsend," he says. Bullock explains that Mrs. Ellsworth is not well. "If, while I'm on that Goddamn platform, you could station outside her place..." he says. Charlie: "Sure I could." Charlie says he's glad to do it, and asks if Doc's seeing to her. Bullock nods. "In good hands then," Charlie says. Bullock gets a sad look. "And Mrs. Bullock," he says, "sees to Sophia." They smile for a moment about Sophia, and how she thrives now that she has started school. "Sweet as before," Charlie says, "though notably more outgoing." Aw. Bullock gets up to leave, telling him that Trixie will come out of the house at some point to give him the pertinent info on Alma's condition. They have a few awkward pauses. Maybe Bullock wants to confide in him about the baby, maybe he wants to break down, maybe he wants to thank him. He can't, of course, do any of that and Charlie knows it, so Charlie just shrugs. "Fuckin' mail, huh?" he says, and gives Bullock his leave.

Down at Nuttall's, Bullock's rival for office is having a crisis of, well, the bowels. Why are the drunks in Nuttall's more annoying than in any other establishment? I always hate them. I can't tell if this is the same dude I wished ill upon from past seasons, but let's say he is. He's irritating, especially when reminding Harry, who is trying to control his nervous stomach as he prepares for his speech, that he must deliver it in fourteen minutes. "When you was a boy, Rutherford," Harry says, "I bet you was a hand at tying cans to dogs' tails and setting cats ablaze." I wish he had time to stab Rutherford (now I know your name, cocksucker!), but he instead must run for the outhouse. Left alone, Rutherford smirks. "Overturnin' turtles was my specialty."