Some time later -- it might be this season's first burst of InstaDawn!, but they've got some weird kind of half-assed blue filtering going on with the camera during this bit, so they might have shot it during the day intending it to look like the middle of the night, which it doesn't, really, and why do I care? -- Our Dear Boys deliver The Little Bastard safe and sound into the arms of his vociferously appreciative mother. "What the hell just happened?" she demands, after offering profuse amounts of gratitude. "I could tell you," El Deano shrugs, "but I don't think you want to know." Sam borrows a clue and skedaddles to give them a little alone time, and a few seconds later, Lisa's been brought thoroughly up to speed while The Little Bastard farts around obliviously in the far room with a Discman and his brand-new AC/DC CD. There follows a touchingly enacted scene in which Lisa confirms The Little Bastard's biological father is not, in fact, El Deano, and in which both Lisa and El Deano himself are surprised to learn that Dean's a little disappointed with the news, and it can all be summed up with the following lines:
Dean: I may be gone one day, and what am I leaving behind besides a [fantastically sleek and smooth-running mint-condition black 1967 Chevy Impala]?
Lisa: I don't know -- [my little bastard] may not be your [little bastard], but he wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for you.
And that's...one to grow on. Next!
Back at The Cicero Pines, Super-Smart Sammy's finally pursuing The Hate Blonde's suggested line of research and, during a lengthy montage that highlights his mad investigatory and LYING skillz, he discovers that everyone who had any association with his mother, no matter how seemingly tenuous, is now gone, with the last death we hear about hitting as late as 2006. One cross-fade later, Our Dear Boy's confronting The Hate Blonde with this newfound information, and he is pissed. The Hate Blonde, not rising to meet his anger with any of her own, in fact rather condescendingly deflects it by smirkily confirming that yes, The Late Great Ceiling Demon systematically took out over the last quarter-century every human being with the slightest connection to Burnt Mary. Sam's finally had enough of her smirky crap and roaringly demands to know who she is. In response, The Hate Blonde allows her eyes to flip beetle black for the briefest of moments. DUN! "It's Meg!" Raoul shrieks, entirely recovered from his earlier fits of extreme child-related discomfort. "It has to be Meg!" Uh. Why? "Because I said so, you peevish little fool! That's why!" I'm going to pretend I did not just hear that, houseguest, and get through the final damn minute of this episode. "Oh, I do apologize, most sincerely! That hateful little girl's undying presence in this episode has torn my nerves and good manners to shreds!" Okay, I'll let it slide. This time.