FINALLY. After four long, Beyonce-and-booze-filled holiday weeks, the Coven has finally returned, and they’re rocking some sweet-ass Stevie shawls. This episode was mostly set-up, but fear not. Shit still went down.
We open on Marie and Fiona having a witch sleepover, complete with boozy tea. Sadly, they didn’t have a pillow fight and Marie didn’t braid Fiona’s hair, but they did talk about boys. All of a sudden, Voodoo King Papa Legba shows up – what, they didn’t want to summon Bloody Mary?! – played by All Time Creepiest Actor Lance Reddick (sorry, Mr. Reddick, but just seeing your name on something is crazy ominous), who tells Marie she probably shouldn’t be having a slumber party with her enemy and tells her she owes him her due. Marie leaves her sleeping bag and bunny slippers back at the mansion and heads over to a hospital for some midnight fun, leaving with a newborn and destroying some security guards along the way. (Love those white contacts. You just know shit is gonna get real when those come out to play.)
The next morning, Marie, Fiona and Delia play a fun round of Exposition Catch-Up, wherein mother and daughter find out that Marie’s actually the one who hired Hank the Bounty Hunter. Not a moment too soon, Fiona slaps the shit out of Cordelia and tells her she “let a viper into this house,” calling her out for being, I don’t know, completely useless. Time to regroup.
Meanwhile, Fleetwitch Mac is twirling away when Fiona shows up, trying to seduce her with Supreme Cardholder Benefits, and she’s got the ultimate perk waiting downstairs. You know what, I totally get Misty’s reaction – if Stevie Fucking Nicks (who is also apparently the White Witch, because of course she is) was in my living room, I’d probably faint too – which ends up winning Fiona five bucks. (Cheap bet, ladies.) The other witches come home and don’t seem terribly impressed to find Stevie performing “Rhiannon” in their living room (INGRATES) while Misty is literally creaming her pants in the corner. (Great exchange re: Eminem between Fiona and Madison – “Marshall? You’re not his type,” Fiona purrs, chainsmoking per ushjz.) Stevie drapes one of her very own shawls on Misty’s trembling shoulders, teaches her how to
dougie twirl, and wishes her luck in the Supreme race, because you always need good endorsements to win the presidency. Nan is still insisting that she’s probably the Supreme (no, literally, in every single scene), and proves that she’s got some other powers (she makes Madison put her cigarette out and then up her own hooch before Zoe intervenes). Well, that’s a better party trick than clairvoyance for sure.
There’s a confusing little scene somewhere in here where Marie and Fiona put some mice in a maze and Bitch Hunters Inc. gets raided or something. I don’t know. I’m sure that’ll be relevant at some point. Well, no, I’m not sure, but whatever.
Marie admits that she sold her soul to Papa Legba years ago to save herself from dying, but once a year she has to pay the pretty steep price of one newborn a year. That, my friends, is a LOT of baby sacrifice. Yikes. (It does explain Marie’s ridiculously impeccable skin.) She could definitely make Fiona immortal like she did to Delphine, but that kind of immortality is meant as a punishment, and Fiona would be a decrepit mess for all eternity. Well, we can’t have that, so Fiona tries to make her own deal with Papa for eternal fabulousness, summoning him with some delicious, delicious cocaine, but Papa, after one kiss, tells her the deal’s off because she doesn’t have a soul to give him. OUCH. Whatever, you don’t get to be that fabulous by having a soul. The Axeman shows up and continues to be the world’s least interesting ghost serial-killer, and tells Fiona she really needs to weed out the next Supreme. Fiona has a better idea – just kill all the girls. Well, that’ll certainly even out the playing field.
Speaking of the girls, they’re off on their own adventures. Zoe and Nan pay a visit to Dead Luke, even though he’s totally deadsies, and when the hospital lets them know, they head over to Patti’s to figure out what went down, and Nan force feeds her some of her own enema bleach until she froths at the mouth and dies, whispering “everything’s coming up roses” in her last moments. (That didn’t actually happen.) Misty and Madison, both wearing ridonkulous thigh-high boots, tag along at a New Orleans funeral, where a jelly Madison tells Misty to ditch the shawl and smarten up about being the Supreme – people will never stop asking for favors. But Madison wants to be a true friend, which is why she necromances the dead guy right out of his coffin, throws Misty in, steals the shawl, and leaves her in a mausoleum! She twirls away, satisfied with a hard day’s work. First of all, these girls are just going apeshit with new powers, and second of all, THERE IS SO MUCH TWIRLING IN THIS EPISODE. We have Stevie to thank for that, obvi.
Boring characters are boring. Myrtle playing her weird-ass music is a total boner-killer, even for Boring Cordelia, who has a hissy and smashes all of her plants while Myrtle keeps on keepin’ on. What. Ever.
But then shit gets juicy again. Nan finds Marie’s sacrifice baby in her closet, and Papa appears to Marie and Fiona, letting Marie know she’s late on her rent. Well, maybe they can substitute (even though Papa, like Umami Burger, has a strict “no substitutions” policy), and they find someone else – “She’s innocent. Mostly” – and go ahead and drown poor Nan. Papa takes her anyway, and she seems more than happy to peace out with Papa. Since that’s dealt with, she heads downstairs for a glass of sherry private Stevie concert (“Has Anything Ever Written Anything for You?”) and everyone cries into their wine because that will never happen in their lives.
Decent set-up here and some good shocks, but no Delphine! No Kyle (not even his butt)! Queenie was barely mentioned! Next week is Nan’s funeral, which, I’m sorry, looks hilarious – especially since no one ever dies on this show, so she’ll probably tap-dance out of her grave and smite everyone or something. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for Kathy Bates’ Head to come back, but I guess she’s still getting educated. Roots is a pretty long movie, after all. Until next week, witches.