Up the uniformed gentleman go into an upper floor of the abandoned loft, where they find...no fire, apparently. Lou finds a newspaper on the ground, and asks if the rest of the guys remember the "broad" (their word, not mine, but I like it enough to start using it immediately) on the cover. They talk about her being on life support for fifteen years, and Tommy adds that he saw her pictures on CNN. Because this is not Six Feet Under, I have to uncondition myself to expect this tangent to result in a swift non sequitur sucker-punch to the politics of the Bush administration. Not that I mind it, of course, but this is where it would usually come. Lou jokes that if she'd have woken up the first thing she would have said is, "Does my ass look fat in this bed?" Tommy laughs and laughs. That is, of course, until the floor suddenly caves in under him and, in one of the weirdest CGI displays ever, he goes plummeting down to the basement in spinning slow motion, landing on a pile of debris. At the moment he lands, his body double is being played by a burlap sacks filled with t-shirts. Better make this commercial break extra long so that FX can make enough money to pull off this effect successfully next time.
A cushy long commercial break ensues, the adequate length required for Tommy to heal completely from his wounds. Franco, from above, stares down the several floors and screams, "He's not movin'!" Oh, he's fine. And really, he is, as we cut to a tight shot on Tommy's face and discover he is, in fact, movin'. First his eyes. Then his head. Then all of him. Totally fine. He makes it to the kneeling position, just as...aw, heck, it's Jesus. He asks Tommy, "Do you believe in my father now, Tommy?" Hell no, but I sure as heck believe in those pills. Jesus -- looking a bit worse for the wear, I have to say -- tells Tommy to stand up and then does that totally pendantic Jesus lecture thing: "Faith, Tommy. You must have faith. Without it there's no hope. Without hope, you cannot live." All together now: aaaaaaaaaaaaa-meeeeeeeeeeeen! Anyway, the rest of the guys make it to the bottom floor. Franco observes that Tommy's being fine is "impossible," and Lou brushes some dust off him and demands, "Whatever the hell it is you're on, I want double the dose." Too late...Janet is already wondering why she only has half. Or she would be, if this subplot made any sense.
Sunday at church. Everyone sings psalms, Janet screeching her part out in a merry, grating soprano. Kid #1 stares on in horror. Foreshadowing Kid stands in the shadows, staring at Tommy accusingly. Or maybe he just wants Janet to pipe down already like the rest of the congregation does.