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Yeah, Just Like Tomatoes

Jenny Lewis and Jonathan Rice duet on "Little Boxes," and then we head over to Nancy's great room, where Kat is putting on an impromptu yoga class. Of course. If it wasn't going to be yoga, it would have been tai chi. Shane tells her to be careful, lest her intestines tangle up and explode, but before he can get into very graphic detail, Nancy shuts him up, and orders Kat, "Leave my house." Kat asks whether Nancy's "attracting lesbian vampires." Nancy doesn't get her meaning, so Kat reels off about eighteen euphemisms for menstruation, including my personal favorite, "Shark Week." Nancy surmises that Kat's asking whether Nancy's having her period, and Kat exclaims that they're cycling together. This does not endear Kat to Nancy, and Nancy order Andy, rolling back from a donut run, to agree, more or less. Silas enters then, in last night's outfit, and Nancy wrestles his car keys out of his hands. He claims he had a good reason for staying out all night -- not wanting to hear his mother fucking her boyfriend -- but Shane reports that Nancy got rid of Peter after fifteen minutes. Silas makes a crack about the fastest gun in the west (the most deadpan, certainly)...

...and then, speak of the devil! Peter's shown up at the door with a bag of oranges. As you do. Peter explains that he felt bad for the orange guy, and also felt bad about the previous night. Nancy waves that off, saying that they're in their "adjustment period...time." She's not quite as good at acting like everything's fine as he is, but she gamely tells him that she feels "great" about where they are as a couple. Giving Nancy an appraising look, Peter asks how long it will be before she retires and he can have her all to himself. "Soon!" Nancy promises brightly. Peter looks her over, sadly, for a long moment. Nancy, misinterpreting, invites him in for fresh-squeezed orange juice, but he declines, and after another long, sad stare, he chokes out a "bye" and takes off. Nancy watches him go, curiously, but doesn't really seem to know what to suspect. Not that anyone's shrewder than she is, that's for sure!

Apache Motel. Doug and Celia are winding up another loud assignation, this one assisted with a little sex crop -- and if Agrestic is a small town in suburb form, I'm surprised Councilwoman Hodes is being so careless as to keep returning to the same hotel. Anyway, they wrap things up, Celia complaining that they can't keep sneaking around this way. Doug says that's how cheating works. The couple next door starts going at it, and Celia gasps, "Is that what we sound like?" The sound gets them all hot again, and after they've briefly kissed, Doug asks whether Celia would leave Dean. They go back and forth, each trying to decide if the other is serious. It seems Doug is -- Dana doesn't like sex, apparently -- and Celia calls that a waste, given what Doug is packing. Doug announces, "Let's do it!" Celia agrees, saying that it's a waste for Doug to be with Dana; it's like having a big boat, and no lake to sail it in. Doug lets Celia be his lake. She should maybe trade the crop for a little paddle.

Grow house. Conrad's on the phone, puttering around the kitchen, the safe open, when Nancy comes in. Conrad hangs up and tells her they're looking at a bull market for their harvest: it's worth $300,000 now, but if Nancy can hold Peter off for another week, it could go as high as $500,000. Nancy says that won't be a problem, telling Conrad how Peter came by that morning with oranges. Conrad doesn't reply, so Nancy brings up the half-million figure. Conrad says it's a shame: "What Viagra was for Pfizer, MILFweed could have been for us." Nancy agrees that it's a pity. Conrad says he's going to take his share of the sale and open another grow house do it better this time. Sanjay enters, seeking investors for his hedge fund; there's money to be made exploiting emerging third-world countries. Conrad replies that there are 370 billionaires in the U.S., and 40 million people living below the poverty line: "Wake up, 7-11. This is the fucking third world." Well, now Nancy can't really jump in on it, can she? Nice cock block, Conrad.

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