Okay, so anyway, back at the Funeral Home, FHB scampers out of the room to attend to some kind of funeral-esque business. Donnie Pfaster surreptitiously looks around and, finding himself alone, begins stroking Heather Chandler's long blonde hair. "Such a beautiful girl," he murmurs, holding up a lock of hair and examining it, as if for split ends. Then he closes the coffin in our faces. Because we're suddenly in the coffin. Because that's a nifty camera angle. Even though it really doesn't make a whole lot of sense.
FHB is doing some kind of funeral-home stuff in the back room. See? This is what it would be like if I were recapping Six Feet Under: "Some guy does some stuff with some body somewhere. I don't know. Gross." Regular old dead people give me the wig. Somewhere, a door swings open with a squeak. "Hello?" FHB calls out with a quavering voice. You'd think that a guy who ran a freaking funeral home would be a bit tougher, but whatever. "Who's there?" FHB calls. The door to the back room swings open and some kind of creature -- one with sticking-out ears and no hair -- walks in. From my long history of watching Buffy, I can tell you that this is definitely some kind of demon. Probably evil. Maybe the devil. I mean the actual Devil. Beelzebub. The Dark Lord. Satan. The Prince of Darkness. The Anti-Christ. Oh, actually, isn't the Anti-Christ technically the son of Satan, like Jesus is the son of God? Maybe a season-nine episode of this show can feature The NotAlienMiracleBaby and the Anti-Christ, throwing down on the playground, like an Biblical elementary-school version of West Side Story. That would kick ass. Anyway, FHB hits the lights, and the hairless, ear-y interloper is just Donnie. "What the hell are you doing here this late?" FHB asks, his voice catching. "Working," Donnie replies in his creepy crazy crawly serial-killer voice. FHB looks down to find Donnie holding a pair of pinking shears, surrounded by strands of blonde hair. "What is this? What the hell were you doing?" FHB asks, and scampers over to Heather's casket. He flings back the lid. She's been sheared. "You freak!" FHB yells. "Get out of here, and don't come back!" He hustles Donnie, his scissors, and the locks of blonde curls spilling out of Donnie's pockets into the hallway. "I should report you!" FHB blusters. "Just go on! Get out of here!" Donnie Pfaster's expression doesn't change as he walks down the hall and right smack into the camera.