Back out in the woods, Jane has returned from the creek seemingly drunker than when she left. Andy looks...well, really bad. "Are you dead?" Jane yells, pouring water down his throat. He sputters it out, showing that he's not dead, but close to it. Jane is relieved and sits down next to him, which just goes to show how intoxicated she is, seeing as how Andy's looking like something out of a zombie movie by this point. She tells him how when she was down at the creek, she saw the body of Brom Garret, whom they are keeping cool for shipping back east. I'm sure, were he at all in his right mind, this would make Andy feel just great about drinking that water. "The widow's got the little one, now," Jane says. "I had her for a while, but I ain't the type she should be with long-term. Fuckin' drunk, and so forth." She's trying to hold it together, but openly weeps when she tells him how she heard voices down at the creek and, drawn to the singing, came upon Bill's funeral. Andy, for what it's worth, seems like he'd be real sad to hear about this, were he not basically, himself, a dead body. Despite having no one to really notice, Jane is embarrassed about her crying and boozily tries to recover. "Now, there's a bird I ain't never seen before," she says to Andy's prone body. "Shall I talk about it to you?" Jane makes me cry sometimes, seriously.
In his tent back at camp, the Rev is having problems. What first seem to be the shakes turn into a violent seizure. Y'all, the Rev is bad off. Bad. He falls to the ground, flailing, and no one stops to help him.
Back at their store site, Bullock is pissily disrobing to continue working on the building, complaining about how loony the Rev was acting at the funeral. "Did he look pale to you?" Sol asks, looking concerned. Bullock wants to know how the hell he was supposed to know if he was pale or not. "Let's say he was," he snaps. "Will you shut up about it?" Sol looks all embarrassed, and I wish he'd smack his buddy in the head, but he lets Bullock go on. "What is my part, and your part?" he says, making fun of the Rev's sermon. "What part of my part is your part? Is my foot your knee? What about your ear? What the fuck is that?" Now, wait a second. Clench has a sense of humor? Because that is funny, though no less assholish. Sol's all kicking the dirt around and says he doesn't know. "What don't you know?" Bullock snaps again. "If he was pale or not?" Har har. No, Sol says, "what you're supposed to do." Bullock literally throws down the hammer. "I'm not supposed to DO anything," he yells. "Let's agree to that! Not one fucking thing that I don't decide I'm gonna, all right, Sol?" However, all of this grouching is accompanied by him jerking his vest and coat back on, as he clearly readies himself to indeed go do something. "All right," Sol says, and then has to remind his fit-pitching friend to put up his suspenders. This just makes Bullock more angry. "If I kill the droop-eyed sonofabitch," he says, "and my part is getting hanged for it, good luck with the fucking store." Sol smiles a little and says all right. Bullock says he'll write to his wife and asks Sol to look after the widow. Sighing, he asks if Sol will pack him a bag, and goes clenching off to make his plans. Upstairs at the Bella Union, Joanie is bathing her whores. Yes, yes. Ahem. Where was I? Naked chicks. Right. Cy opens the door and asks if Joanie got the prayin' out of her system, to which she responds by grabbing one of the girls and kissing her, hard. Cy watches for a minute, torn between enjoying and resenting this demonstration of Joanie's independence from him, and finally closes the door.