Silas is painting their dispensary a calming, medical green, while Doug draws a blue self-portrait with a pendulous dick nose. Silas, having been screwed by Doug in a major way at least once every episode this season, finally gives in and starts yelling. It's the first time he's lost control. Doug whines that he is well-loved the world over, and Silas calls attention to his completely abandoned practice and general waywardness now. "You hurtful, toothy little shit. Teethy!" Silas calls him Manboobs, and he retaliates with Goldilocks and my favorite, "Mormonface," and then Silas goes for the gut. "Gigantor! Embezzler! Girlfriend deporter!" Knowing he's up against it, Doug sputters. "Deaf girl fucker! Deaf fucker!" And then it gets interesting, as Silas's stuff and Doug's stuff turn out to be... The exact same stuff.
Silas: Bad dad!
Doug: Father killer!
And they can't figure out who they're yelling at or why, because they're both right and not talking to each other, and there's a reason they're clutching so tightly, and why Doug keeps talking that gay shit, and bringing up Josh all the time, and there's a reason Silas keeps taking care of Doug and letting him tag along, and there's a reason they both let Andy lapse as their sidekick, in the laundry room when he went comatose in love with Nancy, and chose each other, and never looked back. It's an inside job. There's a reason Ignacio looks like Judah.
So Silas punches Doug in the nose, horrifying them both, and they fall into each other's arms, and start crying. "Sometimes I think I'm retarded in the mouth," Doug says, but Silas doesn't care anymore.
"And you didn't kill your father," Doug muses tenderly, over Silas's head. "Shane did."
Celia bugs the shit out of Esteban's guys when they come, jabbering her fakebook Spanish at them until they tell her to go eat a falafel. "I've got nowhere to go. I'm between things right now." She explains that she was recently banging with revolutionaries, in their country. "Rudolfo, you know him? Piercing eyes? Total vagina?" She talks about how Rudolfo always used to say that the powerless have to use their weakness as an advantage. Works for the revolution. Works for Nancy. Doesn't work for Celia, because her only weakness is her poisonous, irradiated, highly flammable, chemical body. Chemical, she thinks, watching the clouds of acid steam rise up from Sucio's quickly decomposing corpse.
Mags drags Judah to the pier, where it is disgusting, but she thinks it's romantic. Maybe it was once, but now it's homeless central, and she yells give me your jacket in an unhinged-virgin way. They sit in the dirt near a hobo outpost and she talks about how on their date he was talking about how lame Footloose was, and the whole time she just wanted him to jump her. "Oh, I loved Footloose," Andy says without thinking, and she snaps, "That's Judah's gay brother talking," so he spits, ptui: "I mean queerbait. All the dancing. Homo city..." That gets her back up, and she jumps on him moaning about how he's "so fucking boss" and snatching at his dick.
"Oh, Judah! Stick it in me!" He can't believe she said it. "Judah! Pork me with your hot tool!" He can't believe that either. I can. I work for the internet, I know these ladies well. They have ideas about anal sex that are laughable at best, they are sheltered enough to think incest and rape are sexy and fun, and they have a real problem understanding the difference between imaginary behavior and acceptable real-life behavior, because they never had a single object lesson. And inside each dowager's hump is contained pictures of Jared Padalecki buttfucking Robert Pattinson, and the vast knowledge that since no hot tools are likely to come a-porking, this second life and the constraints they've placed on their own fierce imaginations will probably have to suffice.
Asks MagsLothlorien, "Should I suck you?" And Studmuffin69 reminds her strongly that that's not what they did, once upon a time, while watching a hobo cough up a hairball, or maybe vomit. He's right, she says, and flips over on hands and knees, shouting his name with her rump in the air, and then -- as one homeless cops a shit against a piller and a third scratches his crusty dick -- Andy whispers to himself, over and over, Copenhagen Copenhagen Copenhagen, tattooing Nancy's breasts across a wide expanse of floral-printed polyblend, and bends to the task.
When the knock comes at Sundusky's door, he's ready, with a baseball bat. "Hi, Nancy Botwin," she smiles widely. "Shane's mother. Could you put down the bat? Thanks." She hands it all over, the "instrument thingie," the Ray-Bans, the rollerblades. "And a replacement animal companion. It's an iguana. They eat grains and fruits," Nancy explains brightly, while his mouth codfishes. "Birds carry germs. Major turnoff for the ladies." She turns to Shane. "I'm sorry I killed your cockatoo. He was an innocent casualty of youthful vengeance." Shane says he's learned a valuable lesson about the destructive power of firearms, as his mother nods, so the bird's death was not in vain.
Nancy actually thinks this is the solution, you see, so when Ginger informs Shane that he's getting an F in English and the eff out of his apartment, she's actually irked. "Oh, that wasn't necessary." He screams that Shane killed Seacrest, and Nancy points out -- in straight-up PTA mode, it's amazing -- that Shane also apologized. Then Ginger shoves Shane, and he falls down, so Nancy grabs the bat and forces him across the room and onto the couch. "Stealing from students is a no-no. It's unseemly. Not to mention a gross abuse of your position." This is the best scene in the universe of television. Shane agrees.
Shane asks if he can kick Ginger, since she's got him pinned, and without looking away, which is somehow the most unnerving part, she says no way. "By the way, you're grounded. No videogames, no tweetering, nothing electronic. It's desensitizing. Puts you out of touch with your humanity. You can't afford that." She grits her Mama Bear teeth in Sandusky's face, completely out of touch with her humanity for a sec, and shoves him back down again by the throat, and at the door turns and smiles breezily. "Remember, fruits and beans! Take care of him, this could be a whole new start for you!"
And that's the Weeds I know. It's often helpful to look at structure when you're trying to figure out a show or whatever, a movie or a book. Twelve episodes, four episodes an act: This is the beginning of Act II, and it shows all over the place. I'm not sorry about Act I, because we got Jill and a bunch of dark scary shit, and the flashmob, and the chance to suddenly see Nancy smile and laugh and be awesome after a long while. But I'm happy we've turned the corner. Even if it means something way fucked up is going to happen in two weeks, which is the other thing about analyzing structure that sometimes doesn't help so much: knowing when the twist is coming, even if you don't know what it is.
Back home and full of control energy for the first time since the Tunnel, Nancy informs Celia that if she tries to take a bath in her home, the toaster will be joining her. But that look on Celia's face tells us that this sense of control is not long for us or Nancy. She smiles. "Know what I did tonight? I watched a dead body get removed from your old Coldspot and sealed i