Good Girls

Previously, on "Good Girls"...

Is all that from one night?

I would love to hear about them private parties

you've been running behind my back.

Ben threw a rager at our house.

You didn't want your cool, fancy new friends

to know about your broke-ass mom, right?

You called them douchebags and date rapers.

If you're unhappy here,

you can always stay at your dad's.

Big Kahuna, they want to meet with us.

Kahuna Spas would love to be part of the ride.

- I got the account. - That's great!

I also had to give them the books.

Dean Boland?

Was he part of it?

There's gotta be a way to get him out.

He's the perfect fall guy.

It all started about a year ago.

Doesn't matter.

Your husband pled guilty today.

- We pop gang friend. - All of this goes away.

- You're gonna need a sniper. - I know a guy.

- What do you want? - Pull up your pants

like a big boy and do your job.

Dear Dean, I'm gonna tell you

exactly what to do and how to do it.

What's it gonna be?

Pop-Tarts.

We don't have Pop-Tarts.

- Yes, we do. - Dad has them at the top.

Wash them down with some OJ.

Dad lets us have soda.

- Hi. - We haven't actually met.

Aren't you the Big Kahuna?

Just Dave.

Is Dean okay?

That depends on you.

I only see whole milk.

- He'll kill me. - You have any almond or soy?

- We'll protect you. - He has people everywhere.

No one will know you're with us.

Except for your entire department.

It'll just be me.

And me.

- This boat... airtight. - No holes.

What could I even get on him?

Looks like plenty.

We need to know what he does with the money.

Okay. Well, I'll just text him and ask, then.

Seriously?

I can't do this.

Okay.

Okay...

Just might wanna give the rest of your posse a heads-up.

Why?

Because now, we have to round up everyone.

Okay, I'm a mom.

Who's gonna believe that I wrote that?

- That's the gamble. - Right?

Oh...

I used to do hearts over the Is.

Hi. Fuel up.

Ooh, early bird over here.

Yeah. Gotta drink.

Ah... I gotta go to bed.

Got Harry's assembly this morning.

Well, why can't you go?

I am. They want us both.

Do private school parents have jobs? I mean...

None that start before noon, apparently.

Babe, I'm supposed to be on the clock in an hour.

Another double.

Gene needs me.

What's this man got you doing?

You know, just taking care of business.

Excuse me.

- What? - Your hand!

What the hell is happening in the champagne room?

You should see the other guy.

I hope he's paying you overtime.

- I'm just trying to... - keep on his good side.

Please shower.

Ah...

Key's taped to the side.

- Thank you. - Mm-hmm.

I made a frittata.

- Gutsy. - Yeah.

I don't have to wake up at the crack anymore.

- You know why? - Why?

No child to get off to school.

Yeah, I got all the time in the world.

Sounds like you're adjusting well.

Mm-hmm. It's almost as if I never gave birth.

What's in a frittata?

You know... eggs.

Well, how's it different from an omelet?

I wanted to make a frigging frittata, okay?

I actually did.

But we don't get cell reception in my apartment,

and the internet was down,

and only Ben knows how to reset the box.

And I have this ringing in my ear,

so I wanted to look that up, but I couldn't,

because the internet and the resetting.

- Tinnitus. - Sure. Whatever.

The point is is that if Ben was here,

I wouldn't have even had to look it up,

because he's so much smarter than me and better than me,

and everything in my life is just a lot better

whenever he's with me.

You don't have tinnitus.

So, I, uh, purchased

some concert tickets.

- When I was a young chap... - I need him to come back.

Dad and I used to collect butterflies.

And I know you're gonna say that I'm bribing him,

but I'm telling you it works.

I would run around the field, scooping up as many as I could,

and the net would snap their little wings.

Jesus. No wonder you became a therapist.

Dad would just stand perfectly still,

so they'd land on him.

And then what, you'd take them home

and let them fly around your house like a weird pet?

Mount them in decorative shadow boxes.

The point is, you can't use a net to get what you want.

That's really an elaborate metaphor.

You can't make someone like you.

You know, I think Dahmer was a collector too.

See you next week, Annie.

- I know. - Do you?

I do.

Because he's gonna... - I know.

- Like, for real. - I know.

We're dead.

Okay, let's focus on the positive.

They'll never find our bodies.

We get to start over, which is a good thing.

Assuming we can even deliver gang friend.

And then they'll move us anywhere in the country.

Do Alaska and Hawaii count?

- Probably. - To do what?

- Whatever we want. - What about Puerto Rico?

I mean, if it's under their jurisdiction,

I don't see why not.

- They'll fully set us up. - House, car, job.

American Samoa?

Do you want to live in American Samoa?

I wanna know that I could.

It'll be like we never existed.

Like we never put on those masks.

Ooh, one thing.

Not a big deal. Real minor.

All the territories count, Annie.

- Even Guam. - Okay!

The hitman.

I mean, wouldn't this whole deal go away

if your boy gets whacked?

One other thing.

Where the hell'd he go?

Son of a bitch!

He changed his number, he pulled his child out of school.

I mean, this man has completely disappeared.

Yeah. That's what we do before we, uh,

get to work, so to speak.

But we don't want him to get to work.

I can't just call off your hit.

Why not?

There's a code.

Like an assassin's creed?

I vouched for you guys, all right?

- We'll still pay him. - It just makes me look bad.

Well, what if we pay you too?

- Yeah. - Like a restocking fee.

- I don't need your money. - Just give us a phone number.

- Email. - Insta.

Come on. We'll do anything.

Anything?

Yes.

There's something I haven't been able to do

for myself lately.

Uh-huh.

- I got needs. - Oh, no.

Seems like something you girls would be good at.

Yeah, I mean, sure, all of you.

- Sweet Jesus. - Okay.

Let me just stop you right there.