Six Feet Under
The Liar And The Whore

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Dog Dead Afternoon

Meanwhile, Nate and Brenda have retired to the temple sanctuary to discuss the lack of honesty in their impending marriage. Brenda actually goes so far as to rationalize all her lying as being as good thing, because "sometimes, truth is irrelevant." Whatever, Brenda. Nate just stares off into space during her little speech, but then he finally works up the courage to confess his dalliance with Lisa and the resultant pregnancy. We get a three-quarter profile shot of him as he speaks, and Peter Krause has the biggest Adam's apple I've ever seen on another human being. It bobs up and down like a Sunfish sailboat in a hurricane as Brenda numbly admits that she has no idea how she's going to respond to this information. Well, I have no idea either, but I'm betting it's somehow going to involve her fucking another man. Or two, as the case may be. With a disgusted groan, Brenda heaves herself out of the pew, leaving Nate alone with his hairy, rectangular guilt.

In a random lawyer's office somewhere, David waits to hear some information about the lawsuit. The Random Lawyer does some "wacky" "schtick" where he says "okay" a lot as he reads, and then he brusquely informs David that he thinks the Fishers are "more or less fucked." Oy. You know, I was going to keep track of the Fk coefficient again this week, but really, what's the point? Just assume that every other word out of every other person's mouth will be either "fuck," "shit," or a combination of the two, and you'll be fine. Random Lawyer also explains that he thinks the Fishers should settle out of court, and manages to do so without swearing more than once.

Afterwards, David runs into Nate outside the building. Nate apologizes for being late, saying that he's got "other things [he] has to deal with right now." "Yeah, I have a life, too," replies David. "I have a kid now, but at least I try to keep it separate from the business that you seem so hell-bent on flushing down the fucking toilet." Oooh. "Hell." I'll give that one points for variety. As David stomps off the exterior set they're using (which bears a suspicious resemblance to the exterior of Ruth's church), he shouts back, "We're fucked, Nate. And you fucked us." Well, fuck, David. You don't have to be so shitty about it.

Hmm. While Claire and DangerSlut are toking up in the Corpse Machine, Ruth is having a parent/counselor conference with George Needsaplotinthis. Mom is worried that her daughter is depressed, but George disagrees. In fact, he suggests that all Ruth needs to do to help Claire is pass along a brochure he found for a nearby arts college. No wonder this guy is a guidance counselor. He'd probably tell Jeffrey Dahmer's parents that the kid should go to a vocational school to learn how to repair refrigerators. Incidentally, he also thinks that Ruth may be the depressed one, which is an even more impressive diagnosis when you realize that this scene was less than a minute long.

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