Last week, Tony accidentally arrested Lip and Ian at the conclusion of their dad search, and Karen fucked Frank on webcam to prove just how much she wasn't angry at her dad, and it was super gross.
Frank wakes up surrounded by clowns and profanities in Karen's scary little den and tries to remember what happened; he falls down with his old man ass up in the air and finds Karen's panties under a teddy bear or something.
Jasmine, Debs and Fiona are waiting in the police station, looking as usual a mess, when Tony comes in looking harried and trying to avoid their eyes. Seems Lip might be charged as an adult, felony GTA, and Fiona gets all over him about how they wouldn't steal a car or do anything, she's pretty scary right now, and Tony explains that if they don't tell where they got the car, Lip could do five years.
Lip and Ian are chilling, chained to a bench, talking about how this might really cut into Ian's plans to enlist and head to Korengal. "This your first felony bust? Getting a little late start for a Gallagher, aren't you," grunts the cop, and when Lip asserts that they're both Frank Gallagher's sons, pursuant to Ian's declarations last week, Ian gets a little pissy about Lip answering on his behalf. "I stole the car," Lip declares after the first of several unconnected prison rape jokes we'll be getting this week: "Ian didn't know anything about it." Ian doesn't say a word, at this point; Lip's poker face is unassailable.
After some annoying Frank behavior, Frank casually asks Kevin about the Illinois age of consent, which question Kev does not, to his credit, even think about answering.
Steve is, once again, not picking up his phone; Fiona's looking even scarier as she hisses into his voicemail about whether or not they got the car from him and similar questions. Where Steve is, is at the chop shop, still bloodied from his prior run-in with Tony, and hearing from his boss about how the Cayenne the boys were driving never got delivered. There's some stalling and double-talk, and then Steve calls the boys, but of course their phones are in personal-effects bags, and he's too scared to call Fiona about it. Jasmine is being, as usual, helpful to the point of creepiness -- she offers to take either Fiona or Debbie home, or both -- but this time when she leaves it's without a kiss.
Fiona sits through a long, pretty but unnecessary time-passes montage; Sheila nails barfed-up sleeping Frank with a snowball in her front yard and invites him inside, looking adorable in a giant fur hat, standing there in her pink mittens and huge fuchsia boots: "Every day a few more steps. I'm up to thirteen! Come on, sweet man. Let's get you a nice warm bath!" Not enough Sheila, I would say, has been a problem for a while.