Betty, meanwhile, is waxing fond over the memories of her hive, which she has tended for generations. "The first hive was an infestation in the corner of my bedroom," she says. "I tried to kill it." Hee. But, she says, her mother being a Methodist and her father being a pragmatist, she realized God put those bees there for a reason. "You lived with bees?" Chuck says. "That sounds magical." Betty says they called it the Honey House. "The Honey House is empty now," she says. "Those bees built Betty's Bees." Chuck asks her if what happened to the bees could have been sabotage. "Conspiracy theories?" Betty says, appearing to brush it off. "You think someone intentionally murdered my bees?" Chuck nervously says it was just a thought, while Betty creepily drones (ha, again!) on. "It wasn't sabotage," she says. "Sometimes bad things just happen." Or, I think that's what she says -- seriously, do I need to adjust my television set? Am I going deaf? I can't hear some of this stuff! Anyway, unbeknownst to Chuck, JD tells us in ominous tones, something bad was about to just happen to her.