Six Feet Under
Bomb Shelter

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M. Giant: B- | Grade It Now!
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Oh Me, Oh Maya

Someone has managed to scrape up a fairly decent turnout for the Gorodetsky family's funeral. The surviving son is giving a eulogy as Nate watches from the back of the chapel. Looks like he's changed his mind about the cremation thing, because he's surrounded by flower-bedecked caskets. "My family is gone and no one can ever replace them," the kid says. "But this is what life is, right? Pain. Pain followed by more pain. Everything you have can be taken away and it will be, you know that. Lisa was just the beginning." Wow, did Nate screw him on the bill or something? "I mean, you're crazy to even think of having another baby," he continues. "From now on, only. Bad. Things. Will happen to you." So, what have we learned? That even a funeral storyline that only takes up two minutes of the episode is still a funeral storyline that's all about Nate. Ruth appears behind him and snaps him out of his latest narcissistic fantasy with a hand on his shoulder. She's looking for George. Nate doesn't know where he is, but I have a theory.

Hey, I was right! George is in the bomb shelter, with his million gallons of bottled water and other stuff he's brought down to make the place look less like an abandoned cave and more like an inhabited cave. He's wiring up overhead lights to an extension cord, saying they'll eventually need at least a 5,000-watt generator. Instead of demanding watt the hell he's talking about, Ruth delivers the news that there's a cancellation in the Tantric Love workshop and they can go this weekend. Look, I'm not sure I get this Tantric Love thing. I mean, sure, having sex for eight hours sounds like fun, but sooner or later somebody's going to have to pee. George doesn't think they can make it, since a guy's coming over on Saturday morning to talk about the air filtration system. Ruth looks disappointed. George points out where he was thinking of hanging hammocks. Ruth is at a loss for words, apparently unable to remember the proper name for one of those sex-sling thingies. Sorry, Ruth. George has a new favorite hole, and baby, it ain't one of yours.

Brenda waits for Nate in bed as he undresses. Nate's still pretty paranoid about what Barb might try to do about Maya. Brenda tries to see Barb's side of it, saying she's still dealing with Lisa's death and that she'll work through it. Nate's not in the mood to let anyone work through anything if they threaten his family. As he slides his 500-thread count body hair between the 300-thread count sheets, Brenda snuggles in, assuring him that his family will be fine. Nate's not done, though: "This is definitely not a good time for us to have a baby, so...." Brenda's rolling eyes pull her bodily to the far side of the bed, where she turns off the light and lies with her back to Nate. Sorry, Brenda. Guess the Chenowith genes won't be getting perpetuated tonight. Nate to the rescue!

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Six Feet Under

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