Jim ends the call and gets out of the car. A transition shot of the bright, blaring sun (aren't we only supposed to be looking at that with, like, a shoebox and a pinhole?) dissolves into the exterior of a pristine funeral home. The whole cast of characters saunters into the parking lot, including the truck driver named "B.R.B" we met in Episode One, accompanying a bawling bit of trash we recognize as the woman from the Polaroids inside the man's truck. Jim interrupts this private moment between hick and trash to offer the woman a monogrammed handkerchief, and dabbing behind her H&M sunglasses, she repeatedly says, "Thank you. Thank you so very much." She advances the plot in a sentence (because, when in doubt, throw new characters at the oh, we've discussed all this), asking Jim, "Will you be coming to the burial?" God, what were they, brothers? Jim asks when it is, and Hick elaborates, "Looks like tomorrow, now. Seems they're having a little trouble getting Caleb Moore to burn. Boys have been too busy to dig ol' Silas's grave." A quick cut to an outdoor funeral pyre shows two men staring in at a flaming room, one of them observing, "Damn. That boy is cold." Y'all know what's even funnier than that little-known comedy genre called "cremation humor"? Actual death.
Taudrey stands alone at the outskirts of funeraldom, Jim approaching and bidding her a good morning. Isn't it, though? She's distraught. She asks him if might happen to have another handkerchief, and he produces a twin monogrammed hankie and makes the loaded observation, "I didn't know you and Silas were close." Taudrey overenunciates each and every letter of her one line, "It's a small town. One gets to know most everyone." Jim asks once after Oswald Wilkes. Oh, wait! Oswald killed Kennedy! Wilkes killed Lincoln! Has this already hit the forums? If not, I'm the smartest. And Bodnick killed McKinley. There you go. A Brief History Of America. Either way, Taudrey ignores his question completely and poses one of her own: "Do you always carry two handkerchiefs?" Jim's got his answer at the ready: "Three, actually." Wow. That's a lot of snot, right there. But he explains his reasoning -- "my father taught me always monogrammed, always pressed" -- and we cut back to a Ye Olde Dad flashback in the car, Ye Olde Dad himself explaining, "Sign of a gentleman. And you can never tell when one might come back to you." Back in the present, Taudrey attempts to return it to Jim because, in reality, other people's handkerchiefs suffer from the drawback of being filled with other people's snot, but he declines to take it. He keeps digging: "You never told me your last name." Coy, this one is. She doesn't take the bait, turning on the line, "I'll see you around, Jim Prufrock." He turns orange with embarrassment. Shadrack pushes his Loony Bin into the frame for no reason. Jim walks to his car and finds a flat. He gazes at the trunk and visualizes a zany, red-drenched shot of a spare tire inside it. But his reverie of his one Goodyear is broken by the blaring horn of Hick's truck (I told y'all last week, they just loooove pulling on that damn cord-chain thing), who pulls up and asks if Jim has a spare. Jim lies, apparently, and says he does not, hopping in the truck because the script says it's time for him to do so.