...Driving Montage! In an artful overhead shot, Metallicar grumbles past a cluster of supremely uninterested cows before we arrive at a small town that, quite frankly, is not the decrepit pit I was expecting given Darling Sammy's dire description of the place in the earlier scene. Looks quite homey, actually, what with the green lawns in front of the well-tended Victorian-era wood-frame houses and that cunning little county courthouse dominating the main square. Then again, Darling Sammy is both a drama queen given to unnecessary exaggeration and a LYING LIAR WHO LIES, so I don't know why I was expecting otherwise. In any event, Our Intrepid Heroes eventually arrive at Our Lady Of The Missing GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE disguised as insurance adjusters to pepper Father Sneaky with questions regarding Crackedy Andy's last moments on earth. Of course, because Dean sucks with the empathy, he's the one assiduously and silently jotting down copious notes while Darling Sammy deploys The Super-Special Puppy-Dog Eyes Of Religious Seduction to get the sneaky priest to spill. No, not like that. Not yet, at any rate. "Dirty!" shrieks Raoul. In any event, Crackedy Andy was a Sunday regular at Our Lady Of The Missing GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE up until about two months ago, "right around the time everything else started to change." Elizabethville, you see, once was "a town you could be proud of" where "people cared about each other." Crackedy Andy himself used to sing in the choir, and if my memory of small-town church choirs and the horror they inflict upon their fellow congregants each week is anything to go by, that would be enough to justify the bullet through his brain, but that's not the point. No, the point seems to be that Crackedy Andy one day just stopped being himself, almost as if he had been -- and here Darling Sammy prompts for the appropriate response -- "possessed." He "gambled away his money, cheated on his wife, and destroyed his business," and still none of those things match up to the unforgivable sin of inflicting his indifferent and off-key baritone upon his friends and neighbors every Sunday, so let's keep this moving, shall we? Turns out Father Sneaky also knew "Tony Perkins," the similarly recently unhinged gentleman who shot up the hobby shop before getting drilled by the local constabulary, and he, too, seemed to lose it about two months ago, as well. Our Dear Boys exchange Looks Fraught With Significance before thanking the shifty man of God and heading off to...
Episode Report CardDemian: C | 983 USERS: B-
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