Preacher Season 1 Episode 4 recap: The Hole Truth

Bless you for your return, Preacher fans! Each week is full of surprises, and this episode is especially fun. It showcases many little tidbits of importantness, and it’s so hysterical, it damn near caused death by spaghetti. Preacher trumps sliced bread, rolled oats and all the other “best things since.” You with me, or do I need a life? (I appreciate all comments, BTW … even if they make me question my humanity … see last week’s comments.)

It starts with the school bus prowling about. Maybe Jesse needs to think things through a little more before willing them to happen. He told Tracy to open her eyes, but that’s all she did. He told Linus to forget about Janey, but what about the other kiddies? Also, what the hell is Linus doing driving the bus around at night?

And Linus ain’t the only problem. There’s a scantily clad female running scared. Actually there’s a few. What’s this? Things aren’t exactly boring where I live, but Annville makes it look like Mayberry.

The girls running around in their undies are too old for Linus, but they’re being pursued by someone.  I’m all upset because I see unknowns grabbing guns, chasing women and shooting. Soon enough, it’s revealed that the guns are full of paintballs, and the targets are willing participants from the whorehouse. I applaud the creativity of the good old boys in Annville. Paintballing prostitutes seems a harmless way to pass the time … until one girl ends up dead.

She’s shot by Clive. It’s a really ugly yellow paintball, but that ain’t what kills her. She falls into a randomly-placed hole. Cow noise in the background points to QM&P. Bastards!

Flashback time. A young Jesse preps for church. It’s a little more wholesome than what we’ve seen so far. He gets the wafers (Pringles would be better) ready, non-vacuums, disburses Bibles and opens up the wine without downing it. He hands out programs with the same enthusiasm as I hand out tests. Daddy steps out in his collar and looks proudly at his son.

Jesse’s recollections are disturbed by Cassidy, who has serious business to discuss. Jesse gives him two minutes, which is not possible. The angels, the coffee can, the shite. It’s a lot to talk over! Why does Eugene (who I can understand) get subtitles? Cassidy is the one who needs ‘em. I KNOW everything he says is hilarious, but I only understand like two-thirds of it. Dammit.

“Is that an apple pipe?” Yes.

If Cassidy were my neighbor, I’d find every reason on the planet to visit. He’d be wearing that coolie hat and poncho all the time because I’d constantly be banging at his door with brownies and attic insulation. He’s priceless.

Cassidy’s attempt to warn Jesse of the angels who want the gut goblin is disregarded, but the poncho and coolie hat aren’t. It IS a nice outfit! Jesse’s off to save the world — or ruin it.

At the mystery hole, there are mourning hookers, some nosy bystanders, a crane and Sheriff Root — looking (as always) like he sniffed a nest full of owl sh-t. What does that mean? I don’t know, but I heard my best friend’s dad say it a lot while growing up, and it was never in reference to anyone cute.

Odin Quincannon literally hops on a soap-box to say the hole ain’t his fault. Lacey, yanked out by the crane, hangs by her feet, all muddied up and dead. No one really seems to give a hoot. Ugh … sorry! Some of the townies even giggle at the whole thing. ButTulip, who has been a little irritating to this point, is pissed off. Good for her! Someone better be! Why are these people so damn awful? Oh, yeah … they symbolize everything I try not to think about in real life. Poignant made.

Why do I love this show? It’s a tickle with a feather followed by a punch in the crotch. Some poor deputy hoses the dead girl down like he’s spraying the gore off a cow carcass. So messed up.

Jesse says he’s gonna use his powers for good in the little ville of Ann, but I’m thinking he’s got no idea what he’s up against, and he’ll need to be a lot more specific with his directives.

He pays a visit to Emily. He’s all kinds of excited about getting more people to church. He knows he can. He suggests they raffle a big ‘ol flat-screen TV … money’s no object. Emily’s a bit overwhelmed. She knows about Jesse, Linus and the bandaged face. She’s not sure what he’s up to. And she’s still completely enamored with him. I want it to happen because it’s cute, but it would wreck everything right now.

When he leans in close enough to smooch her, I holler, “NO!”

Before he leaves, he tells her to get ready. “After what I’m gonna do, that church is gonna be full every Sunday.” It’s gonna be wonderful. Aw, hell.

A little flashback shows Jesse learning to smoke and getting his ass cracked with Daddy’s belt. Didn’t work. Pretty sure one of the cigarette-providing onlookers is Tulip. Old habits die hard.

Jesse Custer, you are a force to be reckoned with. That crazy dirty hair, those big sin-sear eyes, the scruff, the collar, the Ratwater breath, that steeple between your brows … you don’t even need superpowers to get me to go to church and I’m not a believer.

OK! Yeah! The angels, DeBlanc and Fiore (finally did my homework and learned their names) are discussing the task at hand with Cassidy. He’s not too keen on the chainsaw method, but he’s cool with another round of “Wynken, Blynken, and Nod” along with the coffee can domicile. This is like every bizarre dream I have, so it all makes (non) sense.

Cassidy takes notes during the whole exchange, leaves with a mitt full of cash for “Jesse’s” drug habit and then buys himself a plethora of naughty, including but not limited to a BJ queen and various “party favors.” Surprise.

Once Cassidy’s gone, DeBlanc expresses his legitimate distrust. He grabs the phone to Heaven, which is just as archaic as their other crap. He insists they call God. Fiore isn’t receptive. They’ve left without permission. They can’t just call God, for God’s sake!

Odin sits in his office playing Q*Bert. I knew it! This is how the other half lives!

He’s interrupted by Mayor Miles regarding the dead girl and the sinkhole. How’d it get there? The answer is ambiguous at best. Sh-t happens. Then The Green Acres Group comes up. Mayor Miles sings its praises, but Odin literally pisses on the whole idea … a steady yellow arc. If that ain’t a thumbs-down, I don’t know what is. Conversation over!

Next, a tasty burger graces the screen of the hotel idiot box, and the phone rings. DeBlanc and Fiore jump. Shite! It’s friggen GOD! Or at least one of his secretaries! Okay, it’s not. It’s just the front desk wanting to know when they’re checking out. Soon. But in the meantime, DeBlanc is hungry. He goes on a burger quest. Ah, advertising. Unfortunately, they don’t serve burgers at the front desk, so he settles for the vending machine.

Next comes one of the worst things I’ve seen yet. Yeah, there’s a lot of awful so far, but Emily screwing Mayor Miles is horrible! That’s the best she can get in Annville? Okay, that’s a dumb question. Of course it is, which makes it horrible-times-ten. Crush on Jesse or not, pack up the kids and move far, far away! A few glasses of wine and a guy you don’t really like does not  a good life make! Git!

At Lacey’s wake (I think it’s a wake, anyway) her love for eating and TV and trying on shoes is remembered. Tulip questions the bible verse read by a blonde girl who has no idea what it means. Oxen? I don’t know, either! Tulip wants some answers, but nobody’s got any. The whores are dumb and the guys are insensitive. It all makes her sick. Makes me sick, too. Lacey was nothing more than a piece of ass who fell into a hole and died. Drinks on the house in her honor. Please.

Jesse, your gut goblin’s gonna need some serious stamina. Annville is full of asspipes.

Tulip isn’t drawn to the whorehouse because she’s a terrible person — her momma worked there, and now Madame Mosie’s taken on the role of surrogate. Mosie suggests tea, but all the moaning and groaning upstairs is distracting. Tulip has an ax to grind. Unfortunately, she grinds it with Cassidy instead of Clive. Butts are butts, and Tulip can’t tell one from the next. She tosses Cassidy out a window. He’d be mortally wounded, but he’s not mortal.

After procuring a ride to the hospital, she begs God to spare Cassidy. She swears she’ll be good if he does. Cassidy, being the shite he is, gets a kiss out of the whole fiasco. He’s the worst.

At the hospital, Tulip’s got no time for paperwork. Cassidy needs help now! Wait, where did he go? I know before Tulip does. He visits the blood bank to make a withdrawal. She finds him guzzling Type Whatever. She looks a little less shocked than I expected. I guess it takes a killer to know one.

Jesse’s a boy again, and his daddy wakes him up in the middle of the night. He’s whisked off in his jammas to a place unknown. He examines a pen inscribed with QM&P. Bastards! He also grabs an ashtray for future “reference.”

As they leave, his dad tells him, “Some people just can’t be saved.”
No sh-t.

Jesse and Odin (huh?) are painting some war figurines and having a chat. Looks like it’s a pretty regular thing … nothing awkward about it. Jesse mentions church. Odin reminds Jesse of their deal: No meat talk, no God talk. Jesse persists. Odin’s getting old. Odin doesn’t care;he’s gonna die and that’s that.

But, what if there’s fire?
Odin ain’t buying it.
“What if there’s ice?” Then what?
What if? Just what if?

It’s a stalemate, so Jesse tries another tactic. Odin still doesn’t own all of Jesse’s father’s land. Jesse knows he wants it. He tells Odin to come to church; if he doesn’t leave a Christian, the land is his.

Odin bites.

On Sunday, the church is full. The raffle is on for the big TV. Jesse preaches some truth. The world is a mess. Parishioners listen. “The world is turning to sh-t.” Yep. He said it. And then he says it’s all their fault. They suck. They sure do! Hell yeah! Every last one of ‘em. But Jesse swears to save them all. Especially Odin Quincannon. Jesse wants to save him most.

“Will you serve God?” Quincannon says no way … but Jesse has the upper-hand. By the end of the sermon, Quincannon changes his mind.

The phone rings again. And this time it’s not the front desk.

Holy Hell! Comments, people!

I got questions!

• What’s the first thing that’s gonna go to sh-t because Jesse’s just running willy-nilly with his superpowers?
• Team Emily or Team Tulip?
• Does Cassidy have Jesse’s back, or is he just an opportunist?
• What is God going to say when his wayward angels pick up the phone … or whatever that is?
• Is it just me, or does something Texas Chainsaw Massacre seem to show up in one place or another during every episode?

Chat me up in the comments or on Twitter @KimberlyThies1.  

New episodes of Preacher air Sunday nights at 10/9CT on AMC.