Previously on Six Feet Under: Ruth and Arthur's laundry stopped mixing; Zhora felt proprietary about Billy and Brenda as a result of Pa Chenowith's death; Russell confessed to fooling around with Olivier, and Claire punted him for the field goal; Billy slipped Brenda the tongue, and Brenda bolted; Nate and Brenda kissed, and Brenda bolted again; Vanessa's medications caused her to heat up, then melt down on the dance floor; David interfered in an argument between Keith and his father, and Keith told him to "stay the fuck out of it," so David stormed the fuck out of there; Lisa headed to Santa Cruz to visit her sister, but never got there, and Nate left her a bunch of messages; Aaron moved seven tenths of a mile.
Convenience store hold-up. A guy with so-'01 facial hair is tweaking out, wiggling a gun in the direction of the woman behind the counter and demanding all the money in the register. When she hands it over, he's annoyed by the paltriness of the payoff: "That's it?" That's it, she says, and now he can get the fuck out of her store before she calls the cops. Go, counter lady! I mean, "oops." The stick-up dude makes a "fuck you, man" face and starts to storm out, then turns back and shoots the counter lady in the forehead. Dorothy Su, 1945-2003.
1:23 AM. Nate is phoning Lisa's sister Barb to ask if she's heard anything; she hasn't, and asks if he's called the police. Nate, jiggling the preternaturally calm Maya in his arms as he paces, babbles that he filed a missing-persons report, and he didn't even know you could do that within twenty-four hours. I would bet money that Rick Cleveland stuck that line in there because he knew all the know-it-alls watching at home would turn to their cats and say all smugly, "Um, you have to wait twenty-four hours to file a missing-persons rep-- oh. Okay, then." Not that I did that or anything. I don't even have cats. Oh, shut up. Anyway, Barb did the same thing on her end; apparently, the report goes into the computer system statewide once you submit it to the highway patrol, but Barb thinks they should keep calling for updates. Nate asks if Lisa's ever just taken off that way before, but Barb says no -- well, maybe for a day or two just to "clear out the cobwebs," and nobody would know where she'd gone, but not since she had the baby. "Yeah, yeah, her 'vision quests,' I know," Nate sighs, adding that she used to do that in Seattle, but she'd always tell someone about it. Barb then tells Nate that she "truly, seriously" doubts that Lisa would walk out on him, "not without Maya." Ouch…and then double ouch, since Nate didn't ask Barb that in the first place. Nate himself is like, "Yeah…wait a minute, 'leave me' in the what now?" but Barb smoothly changes the subject back to checking in with the police, saying she's sure that Lisa will turn up. "Yeah. Yeah, she'll turn up," Nate quavers.
Junction of a power line. A maintenance worker heads up to the top in a cherry picker, takes off his gloves, and prepares to enjoy a piece of gum. Seconds later, an earthquake hits, and the guy flails his arms around and grabs onto the naked transformers (I think…don't ask me, I majored in English) to steady himself. Well, if by "steady," you mean "fry" -- a whole gaggle of volts passes through him, and he's electrocuted. Edward Tully, 1955-2003.