At the Hodeses', Dean's following Celia around with the hair clippers, saying the rule apparently is: if you fuck around, you get your head shaved. Celia says the chemo will be taking care of that soon enough, thanks. Dean snaps that he's not going to let cancer be an excuse for this one. Celia's like, "And this from Helen Chin's tennis racket depository." Dean says she doesn't get to use Helen Chin as an excuse either. I tend to part company with Dean on that last one. Celia's earned a freebie. "His name was Conrad," Celia spits, but Dean says he doesn't care. He does care about Celia giving away all her clothes and furniture. Aw, that was when she was being nice! Celia can't win. She says they should have had this argument years ago -- 14 years, to be exact. Dean snits that they've been married for 16. "Yeah, but I liked the first two," she says. Before Dean gut a gut, turned into a robot, and bought this ridiculous house. Then...oh, this needs its own paragraph and direct quoting.
So Celia takes Dean into their atrium, which Dean seems to be awfully proud of. Celia would beg to differ: "When its raining, Dean, and I'm in the bedroom, and I want a cup of tea, I have to put on rubber boots so my slippers don't get wet on the way to the kitchen. When the Santa Anna's come over the hill in the afternoon, and our neighbors are all outside feeling the wind in their hair, do you know what I do? I open the dining room door, I open the living room, I then open the bathroom praying that my husband isn't sitting there taking one of his monster shits. I do this so that the air-conditioning can fake the sensation of flowing oxygen into our stuffy, claustrophobic, "open-air atrium." A room where plants come to die. This is the dumbest fucking room ever built."
Back home, Andy and Doug are tapping along the walls, hunting vermin with a pellet gun, and sharing a joint. Oh yeah. This'll work out just fine. Doug spaces out about the dark, empty space that a rat must live in inside a wall. Then Andy starts to freak out that they're smoking weed with plague-ridden rat spit on it: "Are we smoking plague?" Doug says not to worry, "fire beats plague. Soon as we lit up, we were safe." Meanwhile, Lupita's freaked out that Andy said Judah was still present in the walls -- she doesn't take ghosts lightly; they had one in Mexico that haunted the phone lines, calling out for its missing pants. Okay, Lupita's not even smoking, WTF? Meanwhile, Doug's dropping peanut butter on the floor and draws the rat out, but Andy misses it with the gun.