We open mid-life, mid-rain, mid-chaos — and fully on brand. Queenie’s kicking things off fresh off a family reunion that somehow pulled together around 60 people under a pavilion while the weather did its worst. 

They segue into whether ants retrieve their dead, mourn their dead, or potentially require DNA evidence before accepting that a fallen comrade is really gone. Alexa is consulted. Designated undertaker workers, she reports, sense a death pheromone and remove corpses from the colony. They’re just being tidy. The ants. Just being tidy.

TT has been apologizing reflexively on the pickleball court every time she misses a shot — and so has her partner. They both caught themselves doing it and looked at each other. They agreed: stop. Nobody’s playing for money. Nobody’s walking off a cliff. Queenie points out that women apologize constantly for things outside their control. Bumping into someone. Missing a shot. Existing. The episode closes on that note — and on a song: a full musical number about the reflexive female apology. Apologizing to chairs. To waiters who brought the wrong plate. To the doctor for making you wait. To the stranger who stepped on your shoe. Every woman in the room nodded. They’ve been sorry since the age of eight.