Outside of Mrs. Weezmer's the next day, Earl asks Randy to please go in with him, since he likes talking about the same stuff old ladies do: socks and joint pain. Randy says that reminds him that last night, his sleeping socks came out of the dryer so fluffy that his knees didn't hurt all day. Earl's all, "Exactly!" But Randy won't go in there. He thinks it's suicide. He thinks Grizelda will lop off Earl's head and make pudding out of his blood, and make people like Randy eat it. Randy cutely says, "And I'll do it, Earl. Because... I love pudding. Even if she doesn't give me a spoon, I don't care. I'll find a way." Earl goes in alone.

He's inside sipping delicately from a tiny teacup, voicing over that he never thought he'd have tea with Grizelda. But now he realizes he's misjudged her. I mean, sure, she's a little odd -- she proves that by pointing to her teeth and saying cheerfully, "These are my mom's teeth!" -- but she's nice. He passes out as she smiles. He wakes up in the basement, chained to a beam. She stands over him, smiling down eerily. He tells her this is a little odd, and she says that a week ago, she would have agreed. She hadn't thought about Earl in years, but his big apology brought it all back. Earl tries, "In a good way?" She says no, and it's actually brought up all of the other bad things people have done to her. Uh-oh. Is the list actually causing harm now? She creepily says that when he was talking to her yesterday, she told herself she should lure him to her house, drug him, and lock him in the basement. Then she turns chipper and says, "So, that's just what I did." He tells her good job, and that he's scared, and she can let him go now. She calls him a scamp, and says he'll never see daylight again.