Hey, everyone! It's the Grim Bastards! They're hanging out with SAMCRO and getting the 411 from Clay and Jax: the Mayans want to expand the heroin market in the local pokey, and their cut-and-bag operation is going to go through Lodi on its way to Stockton. T.O's response to Clay: "Ah, shit. I know y'all ain't going to let that happen." Jax stalls: "We run at this now, it'll turn long and bloody --" "Alvarez don't want a war any more than we do," Clay hastens to add. He then pulls a move most upper-level managers would admire: Turning the Lodi expansion into T.O.'s problem by tasking T.O. with collecting intel on when and where the Mayans process and mule their sweet lady H. T.O. looks back at his enormous, bald enforcers and they shrug all, "Dude, I'm not wearing the 'president' patch. Go preside!" So T.O. sighs and says they'll begin digging, but the Grim Bastards want at least half a dozen AK-47s for their trouble. Clay manages to get it down to some MP-5 submachine guns instead. I ... hate to say it, but when Tig's not around, Clay is actually quite an effective leader.

No sooner does that meeting end than the Real IRA's local boys show up. To make a short scene even shorter: the Irish are still maintaining the fiction that Cameron is enjoying poutine and Barenaked Ladies concerts in the Great White North. Jax is not thrilled to hear any of this, and has to be physically pushed out of the meeting; Clay is more suspicious of the Irish, but that doesn't stop him from conducting a little light arms smuggling. As Clay finishes his deal, Opie says gravely, "We've got to find Abel -- and soon." Oh, you think?

Zip! We're in Belfast and Father Ashby has just finished washing his hands, presumably to get the blood off them. Oh, wait, my bad -- he's sitting down to Maureen's kitchen table. She queries, "Should I ask?" and Father Ashby says, "He got the blessings. It was fast. We did what needed to be done." Maureen looks heavenward for a moment before saying, "I'm losing sight of that need, brother." Well, that's too bad, because Father Ashby's not justifying anything. Instead, he's here to take Abel and place him with "a good, Catholic family." When Mo points out that Abel already has a family, Father Ashby clucks, "You can't make this about your love for John." What-what-WHAT? John Teller had a fling on the side when he was in Ireland? What a deliciously soapy revelation! I don't know which likelihood I'd enjoy watching unfold most: 1) That Gemma never knew about it and nobody told her because, hey, the code of the club means old ladies don't exist once you've broken the ten-mile radius out of town; 2) That Gemma did know about it, because their marriage was under strain owing to a sick child and John wanted to come clean for some reason; 3) That Gemma did know about it, because Clay told her.