Marry me, my Mysterious Hawaiian! We'll drink mai-tais, and lie and in the sun, and watch bad TV forever!
Fade up on the bitchy Bickersons, bantering back and forth about how they're completely and totally lost somewhere in the vast deciduous anvil tree forests of L.A.'s famed Griffith Park. Our intrepid (and symbolic!) couple has apparently gotten lost on a hike of some sort, and even though the Six Feet Under second unit is just over the hill shooting Ruth and Kathy Bates's hiking scene from a few weeks back, the Blairwitchersons both still express a worry that they might never find their way back to civilization. Yeah. Whatever. It's Los Angeles, people. Just walk south and you'll hit a strip mall eventually. The Lady Bickerson suddenly spies a rusted hulk nestled in a small valley amongst the gently waving anvil fronds, and they meander down the trail to investigate. It turns out to be the remains of an old VW Bug, and we immediately get our recommended weekly allowance of gimmick when they open the door to release a giant pigeon instead of the expected Ghost of Farfegnugen Past. "Why would someone have an accident and then leave their car to rot?" wonders Mrs. Bickerson. "Maybe because they're still in it," replies her browbeaten betrothed, as we pan over to see a set of skeletal remains wedged against the steering wheel. Farewell, William Aaron Jaffe. At least they didn't find you with your hand still on your stick shift.
Aaron: Yeah. So, I couldn't help but notice that this is the second time in as many seasons that you've killed a bitter, bad-haired Jewish guy named Aaron.
Alan Ball: Oh, I'm sure it's just a coincidence.
Aaron: Really? Well, is it also a coincidence that you've had a dorky, self-deprecating potential stalker mooning over Claire all season? Because he's got some pretty hinky hair himself.
Alan Ball: You know, you've got some serious issues with your hair.
Aaron: I have to look at Peter Krause all week, dude. That'd give fucking Dick Clark issues.
And speaking of our hinky-haired hero, here he is having a giggly little gab-fest with Claire in the back of Professor Olivier's art class. They're each working on a project, and Russell is gently teasing his beloved about the fact that she fell asleep while they were chatting on the phone the night before. We learn that Claire snores, which oddly enough endears her to me even more, and then Russell finally screws up enough courage to ask her to be his date for an upcoming family wedding. "I know it's kind of last-minute," he stammers, "but I was thinking maybe if you weren't doing anything, um, I mean, if it wouldn't be completely painful for you, to…come with me." Wow. You'd think a guy with that much grease in his hair would be a little slicker, but I guess not. Claire responds to this proposal so awkwardly that one might assume Russell had just blurted out, "Marry me, Lauren," and then agrees to join him with a resigned faux enthusiasm that geeky guys everywhere will instantly recognize as the only answer to "Will you go with me?" that's actually worse than "No." He next tries to feed her the old "I would never do anything to hurt our friendship" line, but Professor Olivier interrupts to chastise them for all the "chitty-chat." Insert your own Chitty Chitty Bang Bang joke here. Olivier compliments Russell's work, telling him that he's finally drawing "what [he] sees, instead of what [he] thinks [he] sees," and I can't help but point out that what Russell is drawing is actually a picture of a very ugly, very evil-looking man. Heh. Olivier invites Claire up to the front of the room for a little conference, and Russell stares pointedly at them as she laughs and looks happy about something we can't hear. When Claire returns, she announces that Olivier has just asked her to be his assistant. "God, I feel like I've won something," she gushes. "I never win anything!" "Me neither," snots Russell, who obviously has some ideas about exactly what Olivier is up to here. Ahh, Russell. Don't feel too sad. At least you've actually won the right to stand next to Claire and her super-cute Princess Leia hair buns. I'm still stuck here wearing out my pause button. Sigh.
Boy, David sure does love that coffin wall, doesn't he? He and Nate are standing there in front of it with the family of our long-deceased DGDJ, and David is taking great delight in preaching the virtues of various casket models. "I myself like the Deluxe Aegean," he suggests. "It's a little on the high end, but it's very calming. It's like a slow, lulling ride on…on the Aegean, I guess." Hee! Insert your own My Big Fat Greek Casket joke here. Struggling under the heavy load of exposition she's required to deliver, the DGDJ's former wife takes a seat by the window and explains that "Aaron" disappeared twenty-five years ago when he went out to buy a newspaper. She assumed that he had just deserted her, because they were "one of those horrible got-married-too-soon-for-all-the-wrong-reasons couples." Finally! It's taken us five whole weeks, but Six Feet Under has at long last gotten back to its roots. Once again, it's always all about Nate. "The strange part is where they found him," she adds. "That canyon was ten miles from where we lived back then. What was he doing there…looking for a newspaper on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere? I mean, do you think he was seeing someone else?" Cut to Nate, who is totally thinking "Oh, I don't know about the "someone else" part." Heh. The former Mrs. Aaron is still undecided about which coffin she should select, although she does mention that her ex-husband was Jewish, which causes David to sigh with barely concealed frustration and mark down her choice as "The Sampson." "It's plain cedar," he explains. "It's like a slow, low-profit-margin ride on the strife-torn banks of The Dead Sea." Seeing as how we've already hashed out the religious reasoning behind that selection here, I'll just go ahead and move on to the next scene.