Keithius: The time has come, Nato. You must fulfill the prophecy.
Nato: Um…okay. So what do I do?
The Clairacle: You must find the one they call "The Recapper." He alone possesses an intimate knowledge of every nook and cranny in the Natrix. Only he can save humanity now.
Nato: Oh, please. What do we need that guy for? I'm The One! I'm all-powerful! I can do anything. Well, assuming the French or the Belgians don't object, of course.
The Meruthian: I resent that.
Back at the Fortress, Claire sits alone in her room, reading a book from back to front for some reason. She's interrupted by the phone, and a quick check of her caller ID reveals that it's a telemarketer selling Crisco and a variety of other lard-based products. Okay, just kidding. It's actually Russell, and she tells him that if he calls again, she's just going to have to change her phone number. In that case, I sincerely hope she's not a Verizon customer. Fucking assholes. Incidentally, if you've ever laughed at one of my jokes, if you've ever posted in my love thread, or if you have even the most basic level of human compassion for an internet addict who's been cast back into the medieval dark ages of 56k dial-up, then I implore you to boycott Verizon and punish them for their abysmally awful customer service practices. I honestly hope everyone at fucking that company gets eaten by a rabid gerbil. Yeah. Can you hear me now, bitches? Claire slams the phone back down without waiting for a response, and then just sits there looking pensive as we fade to white.
Fade back up on the Body Shoppe, where Rico is hard at work on the naked and bloated DGDJ. StC this week is a highly respectable 845, which earned the episode an A. And it figures that our long, national no-StC nightmare of the previous few episodes would have come to an end on Sars's watch. For the record, they topped out at 7,030, which is an all-time record for corpse-less futility. Hell, even Annika Sorenstam managed a lower number than that. In golf strokes, of course. Not in corpses. I will, however, give them at least partial make-up credit for ending the drought by cramming three corpses into a single scene. In this scene, however, David and Rico are discussing David's relationship problems. Heh. I'd have loved to hear that entire conversation. Rico thinks David should get out, and also admits that he doesn't understand how they've managed to stay together as long as they have. David interprets that as some sort of homophobic insult, but Rico tries to explain that he only meant that he doesn't understand how anyone without kids manages to stay together. And the way he says it (with a specific reference to Vanessa) makes it apparent that he's been asking himself many of these same questions about his own marriage. Then they notice something "chunky" in the blood they've been draining out of the DGDJ, and Rico ups the pressure to suck out some sort of a clot. That might have been an AVM reference, but even though I'd never publicly admit to watching it, and I only let the TiVo record it because the little girl is a Penguins fan with enough sense and good taste to prefer the old-school logo, I'm still tempted to make a joke about the klot in Krazy Koma Kolin on Everwood. Arthur comes downstairs at this point, and blah blah blah he's against the death penalty. Rico, of course, is totally in favor of it. "He's a freaking Dorito," he snipes, pointing to the DGDJ. "Crunch him. They'll make more." Hee! I wonder if Doritos paid for that?
Nate comes down to join them as well, and he's exhibiting the same pissy mood that he's been in for the entire episode. He's upset that they're taking the time to re-embalm a convicted murderer, but Rico's work ethic wouldn't let him bury a guy who looked like "a tangerine." "I thought this was a better color for him," explains Rico, and Arthur carefully studies the corpse before agreeing in his usual annoyingly off-beat, home-schooled style. And even though I would never publicly admit to watching it, and I only let the TiVo record it because I'm weak and spineless, I'm still tempted to reference Rainn Wilson's hideously awful turn as an annoyingly off-beat, home-schooled entertainment reporter in the hideously awful and just plain annoying America's Sweethearts. Although I do think I've finally figured out why it is that I hate Arthur so much. It's because Rainn Wilson is totally locked in a steel-cage Two Stars, One Slot deathmatch with Dan London, and unlike that one girl in the forums, I actually went to high school with Dan. Oh, well. At least I can take comfort in the fact that I've recapped them both, and Danny is kicking his ass. Go Mt. Lebo Blue Devils!