Since it's been at least seven seconds since their last surreal shot, we now cut to a beautifully executed tracking shot that follows David down the Fortress steps and into a slumber room filled with square-dancing old people. This week's episode was directed by longtime Sopranos helmsman Allen Coulter, and with the exception of an over-reliance on the Bong Cam a little later on, he does a phenomenal job. Note to Alan Ball: Stop letting celebrities direct, and stick with the professionals. We can taste the difference. David watches the dancing for moment, but then he notices the hunky instructor smiling at him. Michael C. Hall smiles back, and even I think David looks cute in this scene.
Down in the Body (Hair) Shop, Nate is on the phone to Vanessa. Using the vast repertoire of sneaky tricks he probably learned from Brenda, he asks how her ultrasound went. Vanessa does an awful job of lying to cover for Rico, and quickly makes an excuse to hang up. Knowing she's busted, Vanessa takes this opportunity to swear loudly in front of her infant child, who gleefully repeats the word "shit" as soon as it comes out her mouth. "Don't say that," she tells him. "That's a grown-up word." You're fucking right it is.
Back upstairs, David is still staring at his Hoedown Ho (tm Hermetic). HDH is teaching the class a new dance move, and so of course he volunteers David to be his partner. "This won't hurt a bit," he says as he pulls David into the center of the floor. HDH demonstrates the move, making sure to refer to David as "she," and then he restarts the music and they promenade around the room. David looks scared out of his mind, and then the old guy in front of him turns around and suggests that he kiss the HDH. David does just that, and the camera swoops around the room as they mack, and the fogies applaud, and then the David E. Kelley moment comes to a sudden halt as simple square-dancing continues.
Over at Kroehner, Rico is hard at work on La Femme Morte, who now has most of her head reconstructed. She kind of looks like Arnold Schwarzenegger in Terminator when he gets all the skin blown off his face. Only, you know, she's not made of metal. And even though she's dead, she's still a better actor than he is. Some random funeral tech is eating lunch in the background, and she stops to comment on Rico's work. He explains that he learned the trade at Fisher & Sons, to which she replies that "Kroehner is going to bury them." Federico isn't happy to hear that, and so he mentions that someone burned down the funeral home Kroehner was planning to build across the street. "Somebody?" she asks. "You never heard of Jewish lightning?" When Rico looks shocked, she explains, "Oh, sorry. Did I offend you? I'm Jewish. I can say that." Okay, heh, but judging from his picture on the HBO site, I somehow doubt that Larry Andries, who wrote this week's episode, is Jewish himself. If he were, he'd know there's no such thing as a red-headed Jew, and would have insisted on different casting for this actress. Of course, Larry also drops this little tidbit in his interview with HBO: "And, by the way, the people online should know that we do read these sites. We're out there. We are aware of what you think and feel. We know all your suggestions. We know when you are confused by it. And we listen to all your ideas about where we're going to go with this thing. We know." First off, hi Larry. What's up? Second of all, now that we know you know, I'm sorry I ripped on you guys a few episodes back. You've gotten a lot better since then. Plus, it's my job. And third, can I suggest we try a little female nudity next time? I miss the Bada Bing girls. Anyway, the world's only sa'ar aduma Yehudia completes her expository duties by reporting that destroying Fisher & Sons is "like Matt Gilardi's personal vendetta. Fisher is history." Rico looks grave.