Six Feet Under
In Case Of Rapture

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Oh, Crap!

Ruth and George enjoy an old people breakfast of utter silence, reading newspapers, and Arthur's yogurt when David busts in mid-big-ass snit. He shares the news that Nate quit last night. Ruth barely looks up from the arts or the leisure, reminding David that he's been complaining about Nate's work anyway, so maybe it's for the best. "Now there are just two of us," he grouses. "I already had to drop out of chorus since he's almost never here when he's supposed to be." Oh, well...we'll catch up some other time. George interrupts this tirade with the statistic, "You know that the average American changes careers seven times during his or her lifetime." David, despite the height difference, takes George's head off without resorting to his tippy-toes, asking, "Is that information supposed to be helpful, George?" before storming out. George looks defeated. Maybe he would have preferred, "Is that information supposed to be helpful...Dad?"

Sheedy funeral. Nate, wearing jeans and sneakers and generally looking like the Macy's catalogue model he should go off and become, whispers to David that he's taking off with Maya to the park. As he exits the house, Nate walks past L'il Sheedy Junior Of Maybe My Haircut, who is standing against a tree sobbing. Because he's out of the family business, Nate slows down but does not stop.

Mr. Sheedy talks slowly through his eulogy, making himself and everyone else there late for the AVN Awards in some oddly cycle-completing irony. Midway through the eulogy, Rico's phone starts to vibrate, a clear sign that Sophia is able to excite and titillate from any location. He starts to ask why she's calling him, but she tells Rico to leave work, get them pizza, and come over to watch TV. Fun! Rico walks up to David and explains to his back that one of his children has an ear infection. David responds, "Okay, fine, go" in a way that means, "I hate you."

And now, the best moment ever, and if you know this show, you know it's best if it happened to Claire. She's sitting at the kitchen table in exotic Persia enjoying a big, heaping bowl of cereal. What kind? Doesn't matter. They're all about to become Bloodios. She brings the empty bowl over to the sink and hits the garbage disposal, which instantly starts gurgling and spewing up blood. Awesome.

We cut immediately to the basement, where a giant fucking hellmouth of blood is pouring out of a drain in the floor. Arthur stands with a mop and doing absolutely nothing with it, explaining to David, "All of the blood we drained must have somehow backed up into the rest of the house's plumbing." Claire marches in with a camera because she is inspired from having met Mena Suvari, and David tries to tell her to stop doing it, but she argues that he might need photos for insurance purposes, promising, "It's not an art project." Not yet it's not.

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Six Feet Under

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