The official term seems to be “cast into outer darkness,” but we prefer to think of the second-to-last episode as embodying the old in-out, in-out: Nicki's out with the Henricksons, except when she's in bed with Bill (he explores her inner darkness); Sarah's back with her old miscarried-baby daddy, Scott (Nicki discovers them in her bed; would they jump in her grave so quickly?); Bill and Ted are all push-pull (the male version of in-out, we suppose) ; and Barb, in a scene that has Mormons up in arms, participates in a sacred ceremony that beautifully sums up everything — she makes contact with an agent of God through, um, holes in a white sheet. It's the kind of game we can imagine Bill playing with Nicki, back when her compound affiliation only turned him on. (Nicki saves her hottest line for Barb: “I'm just compound trash to you!”)

All these porous, shifting divides are collapsing into something like a pile of dirty laundry. Barb has lost her religion, and she's done with Nicki. Nicki's grasping at something with Bill, but she's more and more flirty with her gay brother (he gives her a Hummer), and is confronted with J.J., her first husband. And guess what: She has a long-lost daughter. Through the scrim, she sees a little bit of herself in Sarah. Bill's doing his Kissinger thing, striking deals with Ted, who wants 10 percent — and sees his adopted daughter kidnapped by Hollis Green (he wants that damn letter), leading Bill to make arrangements with lawyer lover man Ray Henry and Roman Grant. (Roman's still not too busy to shout, “More fun than a barrel of monkeys, moh-ron!” at a contestant on Wheel of Fortune.) It's just how the sausage gets made.

Joey's in no mood for sausage, though. Wanda gives Kathy's sister Jodean a distinctly Kathy makeunder, and once Joey lays one on her and she runs off, he's not trusting any of his drives — or any of his brother's aims. (Speaking of driving, did Jodean have to speed off in a pickup truck, chased by a compound youth shouting his head off about the devil dead girl? Somebody give this kid a wheel to chase around with a stick.) So Bill climbs up into the hay loft to comfort Joey, and the floor falls out from under him. Symbolism, folks! But maybe he had it coming: He did, after all, call Ted a prick. (Whatever happened to blankety-blank?) But who was more out of line than LDS president Davis, who asks Barb, “Are you wearing your garments?” Barb will keep her own counsel when it comes to covering up, thank you very much.