Nathan asks Meredith how much money she wants, and before she can come up with a decent figure, he offers her a hundred thousand dollars. She quickly accepts it and tells him she'll let him know where to send it. Nathan drops the phone into the cradle without even looking. He's totally floored, y'all. He looks like someone just hit him in the head with a brick.
Speaking of hitting someone in the head with a brick, Mr. and Mrs. Bennet are returning to the Bennet Family Manse and Mama B. looks wrecked. She seriously looks like she's had a lobotomy or something. Bennet gently brings her into the living room and sits her down in a chair. Mr. Muggles immediately leaps up into the chair to sit next to his woman. Mr. Muggles: "What's up with the lady-type-food-giver? She's all spacey and wrinkled. I liked her better when she was jolly and making cupcakes and accidentally dropping red sprinkles on the ground. Red sprinkles! Ooooh, maybe the man-type-glasses-statue-thing can get me some red sprinkles. Step on it, Four Eyes!" Claire worriedly asks what the hell's wrong with her mother and Bennet just says she needs time to rest and recover. "Recover from what?" breathes Claire. "She, uh, had an appointment with a neurologist," he responds. "He ran some tests." That's all? She had some tests done? She looks more like someone who's had their skull cracked open so that Freddy Krueger could scramble their brains with his razor hand.
Bennet tells his daughter that her mom has been having some headaches and Claire's all, yeah, she's also been suffering from some serious memory loss, asshole. Did ya tell 'em that too? Bennet, perhaps getting an inkling that his daughter isn't having the same memory problem as her mother, just tersely says that of course he told the doctors about the memory loss and that he's handling the situation just fine without her snotty attitude. Bennet pats his wife's shoulder and leaves the room. Claire wraps her arms around her mother's neck and she has tears in her eyes. She should be crying -- her mother looks seriously fucked up. "Don't worry, honey," says Mrs. B. "I'll be fine. Mr. Muggles isn't worried, are you Mr. Muggles? No he's not." Mr. Muggles: "Hey, as long as you can shake food into a bowl and rub my belly, we're good. You can have all the brain issues you want, lady. Just make sure you don't forget the kibble, a'ight?"