Robbie's piano instructor struts in; her topknot and high heels and the fur collar on her black suit just scream roleplay! "You have got to learn to control yourself," she says coldly. She refers to Robbie's episode as "letting off steam," and she is not amused. "I'll take it from here," she tells everyone. Robbie's mom is all, "Oh, oh yeah, okay, I'm just his mom, don't mind me while I hover around ineffectually and -- oop, hey! Gotta go." The piano instructor leaves with Robbie, hissing at him malevolently and telling him he has to practice his Juilliard piece. Meanwhile, the entire piano-lesson fetish community sighs and wishes she'd throw them over a piano bench, crank up the metronome, and administer spankings in perfect three-quarter time.

Ellie and Mike leave the police station. Ellie tells Mike she's been reading about the history of demonic possession, including the case that inspired The Exorcist, and says that there have been over two hundred cases of possession reported in the U.S. since the movie, and they've all been hoaxes, blah blah blah, and Mike blathers something about "theatrics that fall into a standard expectation of a possessed kid created by Hollywood," and then Ellie points out that the pseudonym used in the published case studies of the real-life Exorcist kid was "Robbie," which sounds significant until I realize it's a stupid coincidence, and Mike and Ellie are talking about absolutely nothing, and they've been talking about nothing for the last five minutes, and all their conversations to date have been about nothing, and I have to recap them all, and oh, I think I'll just go screw myself with a crucifix now or something.

In some godforsaken school auditorium, auditions for the Glory Island Community Theatre production of The Wizard of Oz are taking place. For some reason, practically everyone's decided to show up for the audition in costume. For some reason, everyone just has a complete Dorothy or Tin Man or Wicked Witch of the West costume just, you know, lying around at home. This is either really stupid, ham-handed television, or else it's the wacky antics of a town filled with lovable eccentrics: you decide. Hazel shows up dressed in her Magical Whore of the North costume. Oh wait: that's not a costume. "You can do this," Zane tells her; Zane has tagged along and is way too into this shit. Hazel walks over to the sign-in table manned by Mitzi, Sara, and Sam. "What are you doing here?" asks Mitzi. Hazel hesitantly says she's auditioning for the role of Glinda. "The good witch?" says Mitzi bitchily. Sara asks Hazel what song she's doing, and Mitzi interrupts, muttering: "Does it really matter?" Rowr, ffft, hiss, et cetera. Hazel rolls her eyes and sits down among the Dorothy Dozens. "Was that really necessary?" Sara whispers to Mitzi. "Completely," says Mitzi. Sara and Sam are like, "Aw, Mom, what do you have against the lady who had an affair with Dad before his untimely death? Lighten up already."