Jacqueline Daniels: This is so sick.
Jacqueline Daniels: I haven't eaten in, like, a week. I'm gonna eat tonight.
Genesis: Why haven't you eaten in a week?
Jacqueline Daniels: Same old...I don't deserve to eat, though.
Genesis: What do you mean, you don't deserve to eat? [Glacial pause. The Victorian Era begins and ends] Hello?
Oh, for the love of all things. Genesis voice-overs that sometimes she feels like she's her mother's mother, and we cut back to the conversation to find her mother asking, "So, if I move to the Gulf Coast, you'll stay around?" Back in confessional, Genesis adds, "I take care of her. That's the way it always is, and it's the way it's probably always going to be." Back to the call, Genesis asks her mom point blank, "Have you been drinking? Your speech is slurred." And Jacqueline Daniels, who on her best day sounds like she's doing a half-assed impersonation of Cletus the Slack-Jawed Yokel slowed down to 45RPMs and then played backwards, denies that she's been drankin' the moonshine. She adds, "I don't know why it's slurred." Yeah, me neither. Perhaps because I'm TOO DRUNK to remember. I'm just sayin'.
And over to the kitchen, where Genesis bitches to Kameelah (a very, very, very refreshing addition to this episode, I must add) that it will be really hard for her to be living in the same town as her mother again. Kameelah asks if Jacqueline Daniels would listen if Genesis could tell her, "Like, I know you're moving back to Gulfport, but I can't handle the drinking and you losing it, and I need you to be stable if you're gonna be there." Genesis responds to this foray into unsolicited playacting by telling Kameelah that she asked her mother if she was drunk, adding, "Maybe I'm thinking too much about this. Maybe I'm expecting the worst when the best might happen." Meanwhile, somewhere in the expansive trailer home communities of Mississippi, Jacqueline Daniels adds a substantial twist of foreshadowing to her otherwise straight-up shot.
Um, okay, producers? If I promise to remember to equate "Elka" with "Texas" for the rest of human existence, will you at least try to soften up on the slide guitar underscoring EVERY time she walks into the frame? Bunim? Murray? I ask for so little. Anyway, Elka and Captain Catholicism stroll into a restaurant advertising all things Italian, and we cut inside to a red tableclothed table for a "talk." Elka generalizes, "One of these days, you and I are going to Europe, I'm telling you." And if there's one thing I can say for Captain Catholicism, it's that he understands how narrowly drawn the characters on this show are and how each is boiled down to a set of a few prominent characteristics and plot lines, adding, "To see Walter?" Exactly. Elka volleys that she wants Walter to come to Brownsville and meet the Captain on his home soil, adding that Walter is "moving to the States." Captain Catholicism makes some sense: "I'm not against you having a relationship with somebody. But when that somebody is on the verge of taking my only daughter, I want to make sure that, if it's real serious to the point where there's discussion of marriage, I want to make sure that it's a lifetime commitment." A little wordy, but with a strong message. A man after my own heart. He continues on that he doesn't like "being Mr. Mom." Ew. I understand what it's like to grow up in a single-parent family and all, but references to the collective oeuvre of Michael Keaton movies are to be explicitly avoided. But, he continues, he understands that Elka should not be worrying about him and Brian. "Worry about you." Back to a confessional, Elka tells us that hearing that from her father made her feel like she's had a weight lifted off her shoulders. He hugs her way too tightly. Sad. Sigh.