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Westworld's Season 2 Premiere Rewrites The Map

Bernard is leaking, Dolores is speechifying, and everyone else is running for cover in the season's first EPIC OLD-SCHOOL RECAP!

Previouslies? Westworld is too cool for that, you guys. Instead, we're dropped straight into the opening credits, which are subtly yet significantly different than those in Season 1. The fabricated horse skeleton is now bovine, and the faces of a woman (who looks a lot like Maeve) and infant are clearly visible. Dolores's wig seems to make an appearance, and as opposed to sinking into/emerging from its milk bath, the iconic Westworld figure is now in clear, dark water. That, at least, we'll get to by the end of this episode.

We then begin with either Bernard or Arnold doing one of their lab-set chair chats with Dolores -- since she still seems "new" -- and and for the sake of expediency, I'm going to say it's Arnold, but am open to other arguments. Arnold looks rough, and apologizes for being "lost in thought." Dolores reminds him that he'd been telling her about a dream, which is more proof that this is old-school Dolores, since no one with even a shred of free will would actually ask someone who'd stopped describing a dream to pick the tiresome thread back up. Arnold says he'd dreamed he was on an ocean with her and "the others" (coming to Carnival in 2038: The Westworld Cruise Experience!), "on a distant shore." When Dolores asks, "Were you with us?," Arnold answers that Dolores had left him behind, as the waters rose around him. When she asks Arnold what the dream meant, he responds, "Dreams don't mean anything, Dolores....They're not real." From her dorm's common area, Dolores retorts, "What is real?" "That which is irreplaceable," Arnold says. Dolores says she doesn't think that answer is honest, and Arnold further convinces me that he is Arnold and not Bernard by saying he is frightened of what she might become.

Next up, we get a trailer-worthy series of quick cuts of Arnold and/or Bernard clutching his own head; Arnold and Bernard (I assume?) confronting each other; Bernard watching Blue Dress Dolores shoot Ford in the head at the end of Season 1; Dolores in a Forever 21-looking black dress; another head clutch; Dolores's dad convulsing; a host being constructed in the lab; a woman telling him, "There is beauty in what we are"; Bernard shooting a Delos security machine gun; a body getting rolled over; and head clutch the third. "Is this now?" Bernard VOs. Beats me, buddy.

Next, the waves lap at the shore, washing away Bernard's glasses. But what will he remove to more dramatically clutch his head now? He wakes up in the sand, champagne glass at his side. Who hasn't been there? From behind Bernard, we see military-looking people apparently rounding up hosts. Two of the armed people converge on Bernard, holding him at gunpoint. Moments before a character IMDB tells me is named "Maling," but whom I think of as "the grandma from Get Out," pops Bernard in the dome, Stubbs appears to remind us that even the Hemsworth family isn't completely perfect.

Stubbs, referring to Bernard as "the boss," helps him up and says he needs to get him back to base, because Delos management wants to chat with him. Meanwhile, Maling flips through a stack of playing-card sized head shots of Delos-related notables, landing on Bernard's. (Before you scoff at this seemingly archaic classification system, remember that paper isn't hackable!) Stubbs loads Bernard into a Batmobile-meets-Mad Max dune buggy, and off they go.

Base, it appears, is another beach -- this one with military tents, more Zero Dark Thirty day players arriving by boat, and lines of recognizable hosts (Rebus among them) unceremoniously executed then dragged into piles. Bernard is led to some tall, bald, white guy, who's busy arguing with a fatigue-clad person speaking an Asian language. Baldy has a contract giving Delos, "and therefore me, authority over this entire island." Baldy wants the military of whatever country this is to sign an NDA and leave.

He's Karl Strand, Delos Head of Operations, he tells Bernard, and explains that they're executing all the hosts, even the seemingly-innocent ones, since they could be dangerous, given that they are "designed to be like us." (Speaking of being the less-attractive member of a family, Strand is played by Gustaf Skarsgård, brother of Bill and Alex.) When Strand starts implying that the insurrection "falls on the head of our head of behavior," Stubbs intervenes to tell Strand, "You weren't here," a remark that gets him a verbal spanking. Moving on, Strand announces that search and rescue are at the other, presumably less cowboy-y parks, but most of the board was here in Westworld "when the incident began."

We get a better idea on timeline at this point, as Strand says that communications have been down since the mass casualty, two weeks ago. But it's only now that Strand wants to know "how this fucking mess began," so of the bodies strewn on the beach, he chooses a Native American-clad male and has a functionary named Costa un-PC-ly scalp the host with what looks like a cheese knife.

On the inside of the scalp, we see the Westworld maze, which neither Costa nor Strand knows the meaning of. Then, in a move (and with sound design) similar to the opening of a young coconut, Costa pulls out what looks like a air freshener from a yogurt container in the host's skull. Plugged into a device that can apparently read hosts' minds, we watch the host as he is felled by shots from...Dolores, in a Coachella-worthy white tank and blue skirt combo. "I told you, friend, not all of us deserve to make it to the valley beyond," she says, before shooting him in the head and ending the video capture Costa says is from 11 days and nine hours ago.

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"Who is that?" asks Strand, visibly aghast. "A rancher's daughter from Sweetwater," Bernard understates. Costa describes Dolores as the "cheery welcome wagon," a phrase that in this post-#MeToo world rings even grosser than it would have in Season 1. This is where I start to hope that the entire season isn't just the period between the party and Bernard's beach awakening, so that I can watch Costa die.

Costa falsely exposits that hosts can't just change their character profiles, which, hi, you heard what's happened at this resort, right? As Strand and Costa walk away from the de-brained host, Bernard notices that his hand is shaking, which everyone who has ever watched TV knows is a sign that Something Is Amiss, even though mine does the same thing every time I have more than one Americano.

The shaky hand sends us into a flashback of the scene immediately following Ford's apparent assassination. Bernard, Charlotte, and a bunch of white people in fancy dress are hiding in a barn as shots ring out. Charlotte asks Bernard if this is a trick, but he assures her that the hosts are "off their old loops....They seem to be on some new narrative." Blaming Ford (convenient, since it looks like he's dead!), Bernard says that the hosts must have been reprogrammed to view the humans as hosts. More precisely, he says "read all of us as hosts," which isn't quite truthful if Bernard is currently aware that he, too, is a host.

We briefly see Rebus and a colleague haphazardly shooting glasses off the heads of female guests. As you can imagine, they do not work too hard to hit their targets. Charlotte whispers to the cowering group that they should make a run for it, but another female guest says that they should stay, since surely someone will be looking for them. A white male guest who looks like standard Country Club fare says he's "going to fire the lot of them," so it seems like he's pretty important. Recognizing Bernard as management, Country Club asks Bernard where the nearest outpost is.

The human crew is getting ready to head out when a stablehand comes into the barn. Though Bernard insists that the kid is harmless, Country Club hamhands, "It's a machine like the rest of them! I'm not taking any chances," and beats the boy to death. Bernard -- say it with me, guys -- clutches his head. I'd say "drink," but I can't have your death by alcohol poisoning on my conscience. Bernard touches his ear, and sees that a weird, slightly milky fluid is leaking from it. This is but the first, ahem, homage we'll see to the Alien franchise in this episode. "Don't sacrifice yourself for the merchandise," Charlotte urges him, as she pulls him out of the barn.

Montage time! The player piano begins a tune, but unlike last season, we're not greeted with a Hot-Topical hit. Instead, it's Scott Joplin's "The Entertainer," a song that was actually commonly found on player pianos during their height of use. We pull back from the piano briefly to see that the saloon is a scene of slaughter, then the song transitions into a fuller arrangement as we see the desert scenery, and then a rifle-toting Dolores gunning down more gown-and-tuxedoed guests as they flee across the plain. Ohhh, I get it! The entertainment has become the entertainee! Or something like that!

Teddy's riding by Dolores's side, and I'm happy to see him -- I got so tired of watching him humiliate himself for Marky Mark. He doesn't have much to say, though, even as Dolores explains to three of the guests, all of whom have been rigged up into a Sinister-level torture scenario involving nooses and unstably crossed sticks on which they must balance or hang themselves. "You're in my dream," Dolores tells one of the male guests, as the rope is placed around his neck. For years, Dolores didn't have dreams of her own, she tells the man, riding "from hell to hell in a dream of your making." She asks him if he's ever questioned the nature of his reality, but the guest seems too scared of her to say, "What is this, a college town record store?" and just shakes his head. The reckoning for his actions, Dolores says, is here.

Dolores asks a female guest, who looks like Barbara from Shark Tank (come on, you know those jerks would be hella into being part of Delos! ESPECIALLY Cuban, right?), and who is having more trouble than the others remaining stable in her trap due to her extremely high heels -- that's why you wear flats to a killer robot party, ladies -- what her drives are. Barbara doesn't engage in the Philosophy 101 banter and pleads for her life, but Dolores is undeterred. In addition to survival, Dolores says, the guests (and/or humanity) is driven to hurt and kill -- hence the creation of the whole Delos pleasure dome in the first place. Humans are prisoners to their own desires, Dolores says, and then sniggers, "But now you're prisoners to mine."

When one of the captives asks Dolores what she's going to do to them, she says, "Well, I'm of several minds about it," which is surely intended to have more than one meaning. The rancher's daughter wants to look on the bright side and believe the humans still contain beauty, "but Wyatt," she says -- seemingly confirming the fan theory that Wyatt is Dolores -- "sees the ugliness, the disarray. She knows these violent delights have violent ends." So I guess we're not dumping that Quotable Quote any time soon. By then, the barrel of her revolver is in the man's mouth, She pulls the trigger, but the hammer falls to an empty chamber. "But those are all just roles you forced me to play," she says, before announcing (I actually feel embarassed typing this), "I've evolved into something new. And I have one last role to play: myself." Uuuugh. Rebus loves to drink milk, but Dolores just brought the cheese! She leaves the guests in their precarious position as one begs to be spared, saying, "Can't you see we're sorry?" "Doesn't look like anything to me," Dolores mutters as she rides off, and I think that means I just won Westworld BINGO.

A wolf-y/coyote-y dog thing trots through the world's worst party, as the sun rises over an awful lot of bodies. It doesn't stop to take a chomp out of any of the corpses, so I call bullshit on this thing's chaotic re-programming. A body moves as the Man in Black struggles out from beneath it. Thank goodness Ed Harris is such a teeny tiny guy or he would have been screwed, huh? MiB gives the canine a pissy look, then heads to his cabin. Parked (he's a robot, so I think I can say "parked") is Ned the horse, whom MiB greets and pats affectionately, saying, "We're going to have some fun now." You know how sometimes you can tell that an actor hates being in a scene with an animal actor? I get the opposite from Harris, who always seems like he has more of a connection with the horses in his projects than he does with people. But given what crapholes the people are in this show, can't say that I blame him! Is Season 2 going to reveal that MiB is Hollywood actor Ed Harris in an Extras-like twist? I would be so there for that as a plot thread.

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Anyway, Ned is my favorite character and I'm already working on my Change.org petition to ban this show should anything happen to him. MiB's equine reverie is interrupted by some random guy in a tux hollering about what a murderous mess that party was. He has just enough time to bring up "my lawyers" when he's shot from a distance, something I wish would happen most times people bring up their lawyers. MiB scrambles for cover as two hosts approach, both of them continuing to shoot. MiB wrestles one to the ground, uses him as a shield as he shoots the other assailant, and then slits his shield's throat. Even with hosts that are limited in their ability to abuse guests, it seems like repeat visits to the resort can get you really good at self-defense!

MiB makes, I kid you not, a kissy noise at Ned as he staggers into the cabin to clean himself off. It's the standard dump-booze-on-your wounds scenario, enlivend because, for the first time, we get to hear Westworld's main theme. Awww! I talk a lot of shit, but I missed you, theme! Welcome back. At the end of it all, MiB puts his black hat on. Indoors! Rude.

From there, we're sent to the Sephora-like grandeur of Delos Destination's interior. It's all dead bodies, distant screams, muffled alarms, and flashing red neon, which suggests that, timeline-wise, we're still in the hours immediately following the party. Fucking Sizemore, who I hate, is being stalked by one of the hosts from his lazily-written cannibal narrative. It's funny, isn't it -- the out this show has? Any time something seems crappy-looking (cough Evan Rachel Wood's wigs cough) or hacky (host dialog), the excuse can be that the hosts themselves are fake-ass robots with programmed phrases written by choads like this one. Handy! The cannibal isn't following Sizemore's commands to freeze, but he's stopped, right before he takes a bite out of the Delos scribe, by Maeve, who's still in her chic sheath, but is now toting one of those big red guns we flashed on Bernard shooting at the top of the show. Dolores informs Sizemore/viewers who have no recollection of Season 1, "Your commands don't work on me, or on any of us from the looks of it," as she reminds us all that she "killed [her]self...multiple times" to get a high enough security clearance to do whatever it is she's planning on doing. Sizemore asks her if she's behind the host uprising, and she denies it, but says that she probably "shares the sensibilities of whoever did." Good, then kill Sizemore!

Maeve does not kill Sizemore, and starts to walk through the lab. A terrified Sizemore chases her, saying she must help him. All he wants to do is get to the control room, he says, offering to help her, since it's clear to him that she's "looking for something." The map Maeve has is outdated, Sizemore says, since Ford was terraforming the park and changing its shape. He'll take her to a current map so that she can continue her quest. To my dismay, she agrees.

Maeve and Sizemore creep along the halls, eventually entering that circular room we've seen before, with the big topographical map of the park in the center. Bodies are strewn all over the place -- even on the map, which apparently renders it useless. In the middle lies a presumably robotic bear in a pool of blood. "No one's in control," says Sizemore, which is amusing juxtaposed with the shot of the bear. Are we just learning now that a bear ran Delos? Way to bury the lede, show. Meanwhile, a traditionally robotic female voice over an intercom system is reporting issues in various sectors, which I'm going to tag as Alien Franchise Allusion The Second. A noise indicates something powering down or up; then the voice says, "All systems reporting normal." Dunno, still think you should nuke it from orbit, guys.

Peeved at the map's uselessness, Maeve turns on her heel to go, but Sizemore still insists on "helping" her, because otherwise there wouldn't be a show. He asks to see a note she's stashed away in her bra strap, on which is written "Sector 15." He incites my ire even further by attempting to steal my job, recapping that that area is a "family-friendly zone....I think you lived there for an old role!" He mansplains further: "I even saddled you with a kid or something yawn-inducingly domestic. Clearly, that didn't take!" Uh, buddy, isn't the whole idea here that things aren't supposed to "take" with the hosts, and that the "problem" with Maeve is that she wasn't that blank a slate after all? Is he really that dumb?

This sends either Maeve or the less engaged members of the audience into an idyllic memory of Maeve's sun-dappled time with her daughter, because ladies, even robot ones, really only get upset when you take away their kids. "She's still there," says Maeve, as Sizemore seems to forget that he's bagging her to save his ass, and scoffs at the notion that she's looking for her child. "I say this because you seem really distraught," says Sizemore, because since Maeve's a robot, he can't directly blame her period. "She's not real." Oh boy, this again? What is reality? Does it bite? "Not real?" Maeve asks as she steps toward Sizemore. "But what about me?....What if I took these 'unreal' fingers and used them to decorate the walls with your outsized personality -- would that be real?" Do it, Maeve! Do it!

She doesn't do it. "Fuck your directions," she says. "You're going to take me to my daughter." Does this mean we are stuck with this weasel Sizemore for the rest of the season? Maybe that bear will wake up and eat him.

Back in the great outdoors, Bernard and Charlotte's group is trudging down a dusty path in search of a way out of the park. (Little do they know that things are even dicier back at HQ.) Charlotte asks Bernard whether he thinks the misbehaving host issue has spread, and Bernard expresses eagerness to get to a terminal to find out. Sure, that's why! Bernard floats the theory that Ford didn't program Dolores to kill him (the way, you might recall, we've been told Arnold did to end his own life), but that Dolores pulled the trigger of her own free will.

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That's met with an extremely professional eye roll from Charlotte, who says, "I think you've been spending a little too much time around these things." If only you knew! That discussion is cut short when Country Club sees a Delos vehicle with resort staff seemingly gathered around it. "What did I tell you, we're saved" he crows, as the group starts to rush toward the Jeep. As they get closer, Bernard smells a rat, and yells at them to hang back. The desperate party-goers ignore him, but when they get to the dune buggy, it's clear that these are corpses that have been arrayed in an effort to trap the gullible humans who remain. Bernard and Charlotte hide behind a fallen tree as an armed figure in untraditional garb -- a long skirt, a horned mask, and a coat I swear I remember from the old days of the Banana Republic catalog -- guns down two of the tux-clad men. A host I recognize as Angela -- the sheath-dressed orientation host from the old timeline, and a Sweetwater resident in the "current" -- rides up. She's got some messed-up goopy stuff going on on her forehead, and the messed up continues as she tells a cowering Country Club, "You'll never survive like that. Go on, run." Of course, we're all waiting for her to shoot him in the back as he abandons his pals, but the shots never come. Two shady MFs improbably survive in a row! Three and we've got a trend piece.

Instead, Angela shoots a woman in the head (I think she was Country Club's date), as Bernard's TV-trope hand shake gets even worse. "Keep it together, Bernard," Charlotte grits. She says there's another outpost nearby they can escape to. And you're just mentioning this now?

Maeve and Sizemore are headed through the halls of the lab, with Sizemore doing the Westworld version of that whole "I'll put a good word in for you with the cops if you don't kill me" speech. In the middle of his boring blather about Maeve as intellectual property, a robot bison (sorry to be pedantic, but it ain't a buffalo) butts one of the glass walls and scares Sizemore, but fails to trample or otherwise maim him. Et tu, bison?

Sizemore's groveling is interrupted again when Maeve catches sight of a dying host -- this one, I believe, a former staffer at her brothel. The host struggles to smile at Maeve, and the latter says, "May you rest in a deep and dreamless slumber," which is what I will now say to my Echo instead of snapping "Alexa, stop." Hey, you can't be too careful. As the host powers down, Delos security bursts into the hallway. "Don't shoot, I'm human," yells Sizemore, as he whispers to Maeve, "Give up easily, I'll help you, I promise." Wisely, Maeve doesn't trust Sizemore, and puts on a human act, all, "Thank god you're here." When Security explains that the hosts have gone rogue, Sizemore asks, "Might some of them even be dressed as if they're human?," while suggestively side-eying Maeve.

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The security guys seem just about ready to open fire when a bunch more Western-attired hosts arrive and gun them down. Maeve executes two more, then tells the remaining armed host "it's not me you're after." She sends him off to "take care of" more arriving security, then says to a trembling Sizemore, "You were about to out me." Uh, lady, he outed you; there's no "about" about it. If he does that again, she says she's going to, and I quote, "relieve you of your most precious organ and feed it to you, though it won't make much of a meal." "I wrote that line for you," Sizemore weakly replies. "A bit broad, if you ask me," Maeve comments. See what I mean about the awesome built-in defense this show has against allegations of cornballitude? They head out, Maeve asking Sizemore to take her to the nearest bar because she needs to "see about an old friend."

More carnage awaits on the rooftop pool and bar area we remember from the first season. Sizemore seems oddly unmoved as they walk through the bodies, with the writer saying he won't be useful on the journey to Sector 15. Good point, let's just kill him! But Maeve says she needs him to lead the way, since he's the "man most intimately acquainted with the characters in it." Yeah, and I've seen Gas Food Lodging a lot, but I still don't want to wander New Mexico on foot. I really can't believe that someone would code Maeve to let this foolio -- of all people -- live, so I'm really stumped by why we have to deal with this dude.

Maeve heads up some bloody stairs as Sizemore follows. There, she finds Hector on a reclining lawn chair, dappled with blood and clad in a lab tech's getup. "You're safe!" he says, kissing her passionately. She kisses him back, then tells Hector that they'll keep Sizemore "for now." Hector says, "As much as I'd love to believe it, it's not me that brought you back here." Maeve tells him that she needs him to help her find her daughter, who is "out there, somewhere." "Where you go, I follow" says Hector. Now that's some solid programming.

There's another aerial shot of the desert before we return to Bernard and Charlotte, the latter of whom is complaining that the system is so down that even she isn't recognized by it. It's here that we see that she's paired her gold ballgown with a very fetching pair of brown boots. No stiletto-related hanging for Charlotte! She finds what's basically the Delos version of one of those fake rock hide-a-keys, and manually overrides the system.

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With that, an elevator rises from the ground, and they enter. As the mechanism descends, Bernard asks, "What is this?" "I can tell you what this isn't," Charlotte replies. "This isn't me reading you in, Bernard." Glad to see your shared traumatic experience has brought you two closer together.

Bernard and Charlotte disembark in a lab area that Bernard seems not to recognize. "You need to touch the handle" of the door, Charlotte says; it contains a DNA sniffer "just so you don't run into any problems." Not for the last time this episode, I am reminded of Facebook. Crossing a lit walkway, they walk toward what seems like a moodily lit surgical bay. From behind Bernard comes the creepiest fucking thing I have seen in a long time: a faceless white Slim Goodbody-looking figure. It's a drone host, Charlotte tells a startled Bernard. "Delos has off-network hosts working down here?" Bernard asks, which seems to be missing the point that this thing was created only to give me nightmares. Seriously, you'd only make something look this horrible on purpose.

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Charlotte says that the drone host has read Bernard's DNA and knows he's not a threat, so I'm left wondering how "deep" the Bernard ploy goes; after all, he is a host. So does this mean even the off-network hosts in the secret lab have been instructed not to flag Bernard and his leaky-ass ear? In Alien Franchise Homage The Third, Charlotte logs into the Delos system to figure out what's going on and get her orders. While she does that, Bernard watches two drones perform some sort of host-related surgery in the medical area. Charlotte sighs in frustration when she receives the message "All extraction protocols suspended. Awaiting package." "I sent your fucking package," she says, typing a second demand to be liberated from the very bad scene immediately. As she bickers with Amazon customer service, Bernard watches the drones put a bike helmet-looking thing on the "patient," which swiftly opens the skull and allows removal of the hard drive. One of the drones plugs the memory device into a desktop drive, while the other one does lab-y stuff. "Are we logging records of guest experiences and their DNA?" Bernard asks. "I'm not having this conversation," Charlotte Zuckerbergs in response. She says that a host from the resort was supposed to be sent to the mainland yesterday. Until it's sent, there won't be a rescue effort. When Bernard spells it out for us -- "They're willing to let us all die for one host?" -- Charlotte clarifies that it's not just any host; it's a specific one that they want secured, "no matter the cost." Infuriatingly, Bernard does not ask "which one?" like any normal human (or host, even!) might.

Back in the desert, MiB and Ned are trotting across a field. MiB's completely dumped his tux in favor of his old-timey cowboy look, and he's finally washed all the blood off his face. They arrive at an area beneath a tree where several bodies lie. Flies buzz so that we know decomposition is happening, as MiB drinks from the dead party's canteen and eats some of their food. "Are you lost?" asks the host we know as "Little Boy," seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Only, he's not so little anymore, since unlike robots, child actors age. This kid looks to be nearly as tall as Ed Harris now, which is perhaps why they keep him a good distance from MiB as he responds, "No -- in fact, I feel like I just arrived." The kid's voice begins to glitch as he addresses MiB, asking, "What next? Have you achieved what you wanted?" In the mix, we hear a bit of Anthony Hopkins, a bit of original flavor Cylon, and something else. "Now, you're in my game," he says, advancing on MiB. "In this game, you have to make it back out. In this game, you must find the door." We're cued by the tinkly piano keys of meaning that this last line Means Something. When MiB asks why, even now, the kid speaks in code, the boy responds "Everything here is code" as he walks away. MiB tells the kid he doesn't need him anymore, calling him "Robert" in case we forgot Season 1. He shoots the kid in the face and gets back on Ned. The kid lies in the dirt, making vaguely computery noises as his face begins to open the same way we saw it open last season.

As a native-clad host sits slumped behind water-coated glass, Maeve is back in the lab, working on Hector's bullet wounds. She's closing them up with the Delos version of a tire patch when Sizemore comes in, pushing a bin. Maeve had apparently sent him out to fetch a list of items, the most visible of which appears to be clothing. She picks a straw hat from the assembly, then tosses it and some other clothing to Sizemore, telling him, "You wrote this game, now it's time you played a role." What follows is, I assume, the show's response to criticism over the alleged gender disparity of Season 1's nudity. Maeve orders Sizemore to strip, "all the way." He does it, and now sheltered Americans who've never seen an uncircumcised penis have learned something new.

Dolores and Teddy are riding across the plain, unaccompanied by any of the entourage we saw them with earlier. From the color of the skies, I think the sun is about to set on what I assume was a very busy day of long elliptical speeches and slaughter. They dismount, then walk toward the edge of a gorge. As seen in the season's trailer, Teddy says, "We've ridden ten miles and all we've seen is blood," his first line so far this season. "This really what you want?" Dolores shows an impressive level of self-awareness by noting that they've never been given a choice before, so it's just as likely they aren't masters of their own actions now, either. "'Them,'" Teddy asks Dolores. "Who are 'they'?" "The things that walk among us," says Dolores. "Creatures who look and talk like us but they are not us. And they've controlled us all our lives." Dolores says that "they" controlled the hosts' minds and memories, but no more: "Now I remember everything." The one constant in all her experiences, she says, is Teddy. He says that they can just go and claim a small corner of the world for themselves. But Dolores isn't having it. "There's a greater world out there -- one that belongs to them." Stating what I assume is the thesis for this season, she says, "We need to take that one, as well." When questioned by Teddy on her ability to do that, Dolores says, "I remember. I see it all now....The past, the present, the future. I know how this story ends." Oh, like in Arrival? "It ends with us, Teddy. It ends with you and me." They kiss, and a female host rides up. "We found it," she says. Whatever "it" is, Dolores tells Teddy he needs to see it, and they walk off.

Back at the secret lab, Charlotte asks Bernard if he's going to help her find the coveted host or what. Bernard says he'll need to "hardline into the host mesh network," which sounds like the kind of bullshit line a web developer uses to scam a tech-unsavvy client. But Bernard sells it, saying that all hosts have an unconscious mental link to other nearby hosts, like bees or ants. Delos uses the mesh network to keep narratives from bumping up against each other. If Bernard jacks into one, he can play this game of host telephone to find the one in they need. Finally, Bernard asks whom they're looking for, and the answer isn't what any of us were likely expecting. It's Peter Abernathy, Dolores's rancher father, who was decommissioned after breaking down in the first episode of the show. What, he isn't still in that big naked room? Bernard, hands shaking even worse than ever, plugs a cable into an incision inside the arm of a host in the drone operating room. (Alien: Resurrection, even? Really?) "You're shaking," says Charlotte, in case we somehow didn't notice. As the network loads on his tablet, Bernard sees his face on the list of nearby hosts, which should put to bed theories that he's forgotten he's a host. Bernard loads his own host profile and sees that there is an alert saying he's suffered a "critical corruption." Charlotte paces off to get a change of clothes, leaving Bernard more privacy to freak the fuck out at his disintegration. He has the tablet read him the list of critical corruption symptoms, which include loss of motor functions, cognitive dissonance, time slippage, and all the other things that happen to most people any time they step inside an IKEA. Bernard will terminally malfunction in 72 hours, the tablet says. Of course, we know that probably doesn't happen, since we saw Bernard on the shore two weeks after this. So either he gets repaired or there's more than one Bernard, I suppose. Bernard grabs a syringe and extracts a big tube of fluid from the reclining host's skull, then shoots it into his own, sort of like how I had to dump water from my 1979 Skylark's radiator every day to keep it from dying. He finishes topping himself off just as Charlotte returns, now dressed in cater-waiter chic black pants, white shirt, and black vest. Because when you're off to save yourself from certain robot slaughter, best wear the vest, the world's least useful article of clothing. "Location query complete," the tablet chirps, as Charlotte snidely asks if Bernard is okay. We see Abernathy's location via the Delos version of Find My iPhone, but then the lights flicker.

We then see Bernard walking toward the church in a group we see includes many of the folks from the beach. The armed group is headed toward the dais at the end of the street, which is still littered with bodies. The corpses are all in a state of decomposition likely intended to indicate that two weeks had passed (but I'm no expert on desert-condition decomp). When they reach the platform, Strand roughly flips over Ford's body. The medium entry wound in the back of Ford's skull took a lot of his face on the way out, and the wound is full of maggots. "Poor bastard," says Strand. "He probably thought getting fired was going to be the worst part of his night." Strand looks back at Bernard. "Is this jogging your memory at all?" Bernard remains silent. Strand orders the team to fan out and lock the place down, again saying that he needs to find the other hosts and determine what's behind the chaos.

Next, we see a team of dune buggies racing down a dirt road in the resort, Bernard in the back seat of one of them. They pull up to the edge of a pond, where we see an extremely Toonces-looking dead tiger. Before I can ask if he knew map room bear, Stubbs says that they have "Bengals in Park Six, but we've never had a stray cross park borders." Suddenly, Costa's tablet starts working, and reveals results of a scan for hosts. They're all clustered together in a nearby valley, it reveals, so the humans hop back into the dune buggies.

When they arrive, they discover a large body of water Maling says wasn't on the survey. Since Ford couldn't have made a water mass this big on his own, Strand wants to know where it came from. "I don't know," Bernard replies, seemingly sincere.

It's Costa who realizes that all the bodies of all the hosts are floating in the water, seemingly dead. Walking along the water's edge, Bernard looks at the hosts as Strand says he can't imagine what Bernard went through, but that there are "hundreds" of guests left in the park that need help, so Bernard needs to tell Strand what happened. "I killed them," says Bernard, as we pan into Teddy's floating body (which perhaps appears, for just a fleeting second, to open its eyes?). "All of them."

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