We return from the break to linger on the decaying façade of Stately Van Ness Manor for a moment before shunting ourselves inside, and no, they haven't fixed Jamie Luner's goddamned face yet. Though now the primary source of annoyance is the fact that her face doesn't match her neck, so at least I don't have to keep typing out "Grandma Tzeitel" over and over again for the rest of the recap. Dead Bobby and Dead Annie have retired to the crumbling manse's parlor for a chat about various post-death issues, and I gotta say, Jim Beaver and Jamie Luner seem to have an easygoing rapport with one another that makes the subsequent bout of expository blathering almost fun to listen to. There's still way too much of it to bother with a direct transcription, though, so here are the facts, such as they are: Dead Annie never saw a Reaper when she met her untimely end at the apparent hands of the pre-credits fat guy, so we know Something's Not Quite Right on the spectral plane in Stately Van Ness Manor. Also, while Dead Bobby's "seen poltergeists bench-press a piano as a warm-up," he still hasn't been able to "crack the code on any of it" -- referring, of course, to matters of ghastly physics and such -- and he confesses, "I tried to help the boys out once by knocking a book off a table, and I blacked out for two weeks." So, that means you missed the next episode? Well, then: Fuck you, Dead Bobby, because that episode was a wretched piece of...oh, wait a minute. You totally helped them out during that one, didn't you? So, you're just LYING to all of us now? Well, fuck you very much for that, then, good sir. And are we done here? Good.

Elsewhere, Dashing El Deano hacks into Dead Annie's voicemail, and he and Darling Sammy listen to a haze of EVP left earlier in the week that sounds as if it's repeating "Free me!" over and over again. DUN!

Back in the parlor, Dead Bobby and Dead Annie watch as another ghost emerges through a wall to push a stool closer to the parlor's bar. This new gentleman then takes a seat and begins leafing through an actual book he somehow managed to drag through that wall with him because this stupid show sucks even when it's otherwise busy being surprisingly engaging and, after both Dead Bobby and Dead Annie marvel at the new gentleman's mad ghosting skillz for a bit, Dead Bobby attempts to overturn a trunk masquerading as a coffee table. Of course, he fails, and instead goes flying through the thing to end up on his hands and knees atop the moldering parlor carpet, much to the amusement of Dead Annie. The gentleman at the bar makes a snippy and coldly dismissive remark or two, but as he's the first of their fellow spirits to give them the time of day, Dead Bobby and Dead Annie promptly pepper him with questions about the place, which the snooty elder ghost just as promptly refuses to answer. He does allow, however, that his name is "Haskell Crane," and that he's been stuck in Stately Van Ness Manor ever since he was brutally stabbed to death in that very room on April 17, 1932. And then, well, you remember that scene in Ghost wherein the late Vincent Schiavelli taught the late Patrick Swayze how to litter in the subway? Same thing happens here. Like, the exact same thing happens here, to the point where even Dead Bobby feels the need to comment on how similar the sequences are, so I'll be skipping ahead to the bit where the tawdry and utterly uninteresting rip-off's interrupted by the sudden high-pitched shrieking of one of their fellow specters. Dead Bobby and Dead Annie whip around to watch as a disheveled woman clad in tattered rags unhinges her lower jaw to howl at the air for a moment until she shudder-zips across the room to burst into a cloud of unearthly dust right in front of their faces. "What in cold hell was that?" Dead Bobby grumps. "That's you, one day," Dead Haskell haughtily replies. "That's all of us," he goes on to admit, explaining that the phantoms of Stately Van Ness Manor "deteriorate at different rates." As if to back this assertion up, he directs their attention towards a century-old apparition who looks like rats have been chewing on her face for at least the last three decades, and great big ups to the makeup crew for that one. I haven't seen anything that disgusting on this show in months.