...The Vampire Monastery, where Our Idiot Morons tippy-toe through the open front door to get their stupid yet tantalizing asses handed to them by a couple of just-appearing vampire underlings. D'OH!

This Week's Motel Room. Dead Bobby tries and fails to crack the combination on the room's safe until his flaring, incorporeal rage lashes out to destroy a number of the room's priceless midcentury antiques. The ungodly racket draws the attention of that hapless little maid from a couple of scenes ago, and as she enters the suddenly-freezing confines of the room proper to shiver and shake and wonder what the hell's going on, Dead Bobby materializes to tackle her to the ground, assuming possession of the woman's body as he does so. Dun-dun-DUN! A long moment passes, after which the Bobby-enhanced maid pulls herself up to wipe away an involuntary tear -- which is an inexplicably nice little touch -- before crossing to the safe, which she finally opens by entering Dead Bobby's birthday. The Bobby-enhanced maid then removes Dead Bobby's traveling flask and slides it into her apron, murmuring a few vague Roman-related threats to herself until she takes her leave of this episode for good. Would that the rest of us could do the same.

Vampire Monastery. The vampire underlings shove Our Idiot Morons into the lair's exquisitely-appointed dining room, where they find The Vampire King already waiting for them, and while Rick Worthy's mellifluous tones during the endless chatter that follows are indeed a joy to the ears, let's cut to the chase, here, okay? Excellent. So, long story short, Our Idiot Morons attempt to persuade The Vampire King to join them in killing The Leviathans until every last Leviathan lies dead, but The Vampire King reveals he's had a super-secret side deal with Richard Roman ever since the writers of this wretched show whipped said super-secret side deal out of their collective ass, and he instructs his vampire underlings to escort Our Idiot Morons to the lair's study, where they will remain while The Vampire King holds an audience with the just-announced Leviathan Edgar. "No!" Dimwit Sammy weakly protests. "No, wait!" "Word of advice, boys," The Vampire King smiles. "You do not live through centuries of fire and ice and continental divide by jumping to conclusions." No, I don't know what the hell that's supposed to mean, but good goddamn, it sure as hell sounded nice when he said it.