Angela cannot quit with the beauty of the McMansion they're in, which is like if their usual mansion had a little cloned baby, and they have a "great brainstorming session" about how they'll have an adulteress, or shooting her husband, or whatever. Muna, of course, bugs them the entire time with whatever pops into her mind: "Are you sure there's a telephone number we can call? Do telephones still work? Is this PCS network guaranteed? Do cameras still record images onto film that chemically reacts under exposure to light? Will Passions still be on months from now when this episode airs? Will Theresa ever stop with the Ethan thing, or will she continue to poison people with guacamole and agreeing to get raped nightly by Donald Trump and getting her spine stabbed every five minutes and put in a wheelchair by Gwen and her personalities? How come Gwen gets to have multiple personalities when her regular one is nonexistent? Where did Fox go, and who's this ugly new guy? How come Fancy's Bedazzled eyepatch couldn't stay forever? Am I going to have to decipher the DaVinci Code in virtual reality after conceiving a baby with my brother and convincing myself that God nightly appears to me and asks me to whip myself to death? And then marry that brother? What about Chastity, is she going to become a zombie again? Are there any more mermaids we don't know about? Remember when that witch fought the gargoyle and word balloons started coming out the baby witch's mouth? That was AWESOME, was it not? And remember when the two axe-murderering old ladies stole Santa's sled and got into a high-speed chase with the cops and only escaped by throwing people's birthday presents into the path of the cops, and one of them was dressed as an elf and the other old lady as Santa, and then the witch turned them into a tiny screaming Christmas ornament?" On the regular, we are told, Muna does this. We were expecting that. Heidi offers, with relish, to be the quote "slut" in the skit. We weren't expecting that.

"Muna, you're repressed, irritating, and detail-oriented to a pathological degree," they say. "Why don't you handle the details and timeline of the project, because as long as you're bitching and nagging, it might as well be stuff that the team as a whole needs to be bitched at and nagged about?" But Muna declines: she's never heard of a timeline and she doesn't know what one is, she's suspicious about "time" as a concept of physics, "lines" as a concept of geometry. Angela explains to her about how in order to make a movie, there are various set-ups or "scenes" in which actors say lines, and are filmed saying these lines, and these set-ups are filmed sequentially, rather than all at once. Muna's not getting it. "Okay, we have ten scenes, and each one of them needs to be filmed in the next few hours, and each one has specific demands and stuff that we need, as a team, to get them accomplished. You're like a producer?" Muna's like, "What's a team? What's a producer? What's filming? What's a camera? What's television? What's the internet? What's your name? Where am I?" Heidi explains again that her whole detail-oriented, God-fearing vibe makes her the best fit for the job. Muna calls her a liar for suggesting she ever paid attention to a single detail in her entire life, and furthermore, she can't even say the word "detail," because it offends her. She wants to be in front of the camera, of course. She wants to be a star! Kristine looks at her for awhile, repeats that she has tasked Muna with the production, and watches Muna staring back at her like a moo-cow on the train tracks. And she feels the fear.