Episode Report Card
Jacob Clifton: A+ | 1 USERS: A+
The Deep End Of The Ocean
In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description!

("As I stand before you today on the brink of junior high, here is what I have to say.")

Nancy's back staring at herself in the upstairs mirror when an incredibly lovely woman shows up to give her a massage: she is a gift. She tells Nancy to get undressed, and explains that she can't leave until she does her job. Nancy asks her again to leave, but the woman points out that she clearly is in need of her services. Well, you'll never go wrong telling Nancy she should take it a little easier on herself, so a short moment later -- after the woman threatens to sit on her -- she's on the bed with a mask on.

Nancy apologizes to her for being so stiff, but the woman tells her not to be sorry: just limp. She asks if the woman knows her husband's running for governor, and that he is a puppet. "You be my puppet," says the woman. "Let me pull the strings." Turns out you can want that real bad and it still doesn't work, and why? "Men are weak," Nancy says after a moment, pulling off her mask. The masseuse admits that some men are weak, and puts the mask back on, moving to her shoulders with strong hands. "Women are strong," Nancy tells her. "Until they fall apart." The woman assures her she's not going to: "You're a warrior. Like the boss, very similar. Locked up in all the same places. Armored and ready for battle." In tight muscle and Teflon.

Nancy thinks she means Esteban, their marriage of true minds, but we know better: "You'd be surprised, how much you have in common with Pilar." Nancy sits up all surprised, and freaks out. "She wanted you feeling relaxed and well. Did we do the job?" Nancy makes a very angry face and asks herself the same question, about Guillermo.

Over at a ten-by in the whimsically named Neverending Storage, Celia's making the saddest (and Celia-est) screwdrivers imaginable: Take a gorgeous fat-bellied dinner pitcher, dump in a semi-frozen package of orange juice from concentrate, toxic Sandra Lee-style, and then pour some vodka in. Swirl listlessly, drink, repeat. In a cinderblock storage locker, like some kind of post-apocalyptic Crate & Barrel Hiro Protagonist. Kind of fabulous as an idea, but appalling in real life. Just like Celia.

Doug's douchey sandals appear, and he hauls up the door, so she has to shield her eyes. He calls her a "feral bitch." She's accomplished a bit more of her Nancyward transformation, and has a lovely purple scarf in her deep brown hair. This reminds Doug of a gypsy, so he suggests that she lick his crystal balls. Twice. She finally says she wants out of the business, and is willing to part with her stash "fire sale cheap," and he's like, first of all, since when is she a drug dealer, and secondly he's broke. Celia's disheartened for a sec, then tells him to take it on credit and pay her back in a timely manner, on pain of Perro Insano breaking his legs.

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