Brenda and Joe banter on about how much they don't like mushrooms, and while I'd like to lambaste that as a potential cornerstone on which to build a sustaining relationship, I've definitely dated people with whom I've had even less than that in common. "You went to cooking school? You would not believe how much I enjoyed Spice World!" Brenda laughs that she's never had a neighbor who just "stops by," and Joe asks how she feels about that. She ponders and replies, "It's interesting." Yeah. Not so fast.
"I don't want to go in there," Nate tells David as they pull up to the coroner's.
Inside, a new narrative archetype of "the insensitive coroner" (I mean, who hasn't known one, am I right?) introduces himself to a world in waiting, as a man in a white lab coat explains to David, "This is the worst one I've had in a long time." As Insensitive Coroner pulls back a heavy piece of plastic and cribs a shot of Laura Palmer after the letter was extracted from her finger but before she comes back as a brunette, David cuts him off, explaining, "This is my sister-in-law." Insensitive Coroner is all, "Where are my manners, what I meant to say is would you like some tea?" about it, quickly covering Lisa's body back up and apologizing over and over. David tries to speech him about not talking like anyone that way, but it doesn't take because when you traffic in the dead people trade as a career, you don't have much of an embalmed leg to stand on in not viewing them as a commodity. Insensitive Coroner remembers to give David Lisa's jawbone, which was removed to use her dental records to identify her. David unzips a side compartment on the plastic I guess marked "Extra Jawbone holder," and wheels her out, thinking that this may have been the most interesting conversation he and Lisa have ever shared.
Nate's in the driver's seat now, telling a returning David that he wants to drive for a while. They register a nasty, lingering smell coming from somewhere, and they crank open their respective windows because something is rotten in the state of Deathmark. Unnecessary Shakespeare pun. Van drives off. Fade to white.
And now, let us take pains to introduce an entire family we will never, ever, ever see again, because of the connective tissue between them being more than, well, some remaining connective tissue. Nate hugs Lisa's sister, Barb, who tells Nate that he has to bring Maya up to Santa Cruz and notes, "Hoyt is so great with the little ones." Eef. Sorry for your loss, Barb. But maybe it's also a little bit your fault. For marrying a guy named "Hoyt." Maybe everything is just a little bit your fault for that. Said "Hoyt" introduces his twin boys to Claire, who asks which of them is which and then asks if people always ask them which one of them is which and then I fell down from the circular logic and broke that part of me in my brain that cared about Lisa's as-yet-unseen twin nephews we'll never see again. Meanwhile, Ruth and Cromwell exchange some "someone is dead but let's talk about the internet" pleasantries over by the stairs, which is a pretty accurate depiction of most of my own social approach to life, except for the fact that I'd probably have busted in by this point, all, "And some dink totally kept signing his post, like, four times, even though I explicitly requested that s/he not do that. Ech. You think you know tragedy?" Lisa's parents talk about how they don't like to fly, but that once they got into town, the directions they had were given were very good. "That Mapquest," Cromwell notes. "That's a good site," Mr. Lisa agrees. "Hell of a site. Extremely helpful." And the selection of Six Flags and/or Denny's they could have chosen to stop at on their way to the funeral home! And yet, the banter continues on this topic, a sure sign that no one thought to click the "Shortest Route" tab to get from one end of this scene to the other. Mrs. Lisa is predictably sad about her dead daughter.