Previously: It got all Shakespearean up in here with the mothers and sons.
Silas is outraged when Nancy refuses to sign off on the Pouncy House merger. Of course she can’t share her true motives without turning Silas against her even more. The Michelle Trachtenberg/Mary-Louise Parker rivalry deepens, and that’s even before things get heavy.
Silas calls Nancy on her condescension and disrespect; her beguiling ass tries to tunnel out with more of the same. She insists she knows best, and Silas is truly not having it this time. This will certainly not end well.
The Pouncy House bust goes swimmingly, and Silas isn’t even in the building at the time. But the detective’s intentions are not lost on Shane, who appreciates his mother’s latest always artful manipulations. He’s only too proud to share the events of his day with his prodigal brother, whose rage has been coming to a boil for decades.
Klein continues to be a Reverse Magical Negro, leaving his shady employees not only the hedge fund but a house in the Hamptons on top. To that end, Andy will dust off his once-beloved war-dodging alter ego Bill Sussman and fleece rich investors into investing with the firm’s Ponzi scheme.
Nancy has a racket of her own. She’s rebranding MILF under its French nom de plume and selling it at an outrageously inflated price, because this season’s caricature is of the obscenely rich (I guess those must still exist), and their one note is their self-centered desire to waste money.
At least Nancy’s Agrestic years prepared her for dealing with the upper crust, not that she is often out of her element. With bullish sales, she gets condescendingly overconfident and asks the firm to invest in her.
Andy/Bill Sussman is well-suited to the good life and is unabashed in his newfound love of Long Island iced teas. (“Delicious. What’s in them?” “Everything.”) An increasingly wasted Andy/Bill is also calling in Nancy’s account (“self-centered, heartless sociopath”) in a drunken outburst that seems like it would’ve attracted more gawking, even from society’s alleged best.
Whether vomiting at a lead’s feet is an effective argument re: investing isn’t totally made clear. What we do know is that a penitent Andy is denouncing his own actions the next morning, accepting his futile, hedonistic lot once more.
Nancy offers her eldest a pandering apology, but he’s not hearing it, no matter what she dangles in front of him.
“Whose side are you on?” she demands. “From now on, my own,” Silas says, not backing down this time. It’s hard to imagine a scenario where Silas doesn’t self-destruct facing off against his mom. Shane is optimistic, though, alone with his mother at least: “We don’t need him.”
Next week: Two to go.