Don't we all look badass when we stand together?

We open tonight on a heartwarming domestic scene.  Ass-kicking, hard-drinking, foul-mouthed Grace also has a Happy Homemaker side, which I find that I actually admire in a heroine.  It's always good to be multitalented.  Right now she's sewing a costume for a play at her nephew's school.  Clay's going to be a saint that was disemboweled by meat hooks, and the costume is awesomely fake-gory.  After some fun with ketchup "blood," Grace goes to take a bath and we earn that TVMA rating with a gratuitous shot of Holly Hunter's v.v. naked ass.  The audience at home's not the only one getting a peep show tonight.  Grace also stripteases through her bathroom window for that lucky elderly fellow next door.  Y'know, one of these days his old biddy wife is going to catch Grace flashing her junk at her man.  I can't imagine that it will end well for anyone.  At any rate, a younger, bearded man comes into the bathroom behind the old duffer.  Naked!Grace looks intrigued and everyone waves to each other.  Hee!  Later, the pizza Clay ordered is brought over by the bearded guy (it was accidentally delivered next door).  He introduces himself as Jack St. Clair, in town visiting his uncle.  Grace bats her eyelashes at him because the one thing she's heard through the grapevine is that he's an athiest.  Earl will probably find that fact interesting, eh?

This is the tidiest that you will ever see Grace's hair.Saving Grace! I thought you were off the air until next summer.  Imagine my happy surprise when TNT announced it would be airing four new episodes in December.  More chaw-chewin' angels!  And potty-mouthed detectives! And Holly Hunter looking like she's got a messy bale of straw strapped to the top of her head (is that really her hair?). It's a Christmas Miracle!

It's Hurricane Earl!Some of us dream about TiVo, but are too underpaid poor to afford such TV luxury.  We still rely on that antiquated VCR, those stacks of tapes sliding and clattering to the floor.  This week I got a dose of something I like to call "Murderous VCR Rage."  I'm sure many of you are familiar with it.  Symptoms of Murderous VCR Rage (MVCRR) include a cold, gripping fear that comes over your heart when you realize that your VCR somehow crapped out in the middle of recording a show.  Maybe the clock was set wrong.  Maybe the tape didn't have enough time left.  Maybe the VCR was just 548652 years old and, like a crotchety old man, felt like taking a nap instead of doing its damned job.  At any rate, you're cruising along, and suddenly the screen sputters and there's nothing but a blue field staring you in the face.  Frantically, you rewind.  You fast forward.  No matter what you do, it's futile - the rest of your show is not on that freakin' tape.  After the fear comes a wave of profound anger as you glare at the VCR, which appears to be mocking you with its smug, gaping tape-slot grin.  This is immediately followed by a bout of obscenity shouting, such as: "You motherf*&$ing VCR!  Where the f*&% is the rest of the Saving Grace finale??  Huh?  Answer me, you bastard!"  Finally, in the last stage of MVCRR, you must resist the nearly overwhelming urge to chuck the VCR out your third story window and into the street below, where it may be crushed into a heap of worthless dust by one of the many noisy garbage trucks that prowl your street on an hourly basis.  Resist the urge, my friend.  Because in a couple of days TNT will rerun that Saving Grace finale, and you will need your VCR so that you may accurately write and post your (very late) recap.  Just be sure to keep a closer eye on that VCR this time. After all, it is approximately 548652 years old.

It's 3:24 A.M., and Grace is exercising in her kitchen.  Yeah, I know what  you're thinking, loyal Saving Grace viewers.  "Exercise, at 3:24 A.M.?  I know what kind of 'exercise' you're talking about!  Bowm chicka BOWM BOWM!"  But nope, actually, this time it's not exercise of the horizontal kind.  Grace's doing jumping jacks and skipping rope, her hair pulled back in a ponytail that kind of looks like what would happen if a bale of straw came undone and someone tried to hold it together with a rubber band.  "He's going down, Gus," Grace says determinedly to her long-suffering dog.  Who's going down, you ask?  We find out soon enough.   The next morning, Grace and a bunch of burly police types are serving a "no knock" warrant on a murder suspect who killed a child in a drive-by shooting.  The lead on the operation says that the suspect is considered armed and extremely dangerous; they should all be in full body armor.  Grace fills them in on the details: Kwame Smith, the suspect, has been reported by a reliable source to be holed up in a house by himself.  The team breaks to prepare themselves for the sting.  Everyone loads up on good luck charms, from Butch's Longhorns T-shirt to other family photos and keepsakes.  They strap on helmets and protective gear.  Ever the quirky one, Grace is tucking what appears to be a tampon into her boot.  "Let's get this asshole," she says matter-of-factly. 

Awwww... cute old people just suck all of the snark right out of me.Grace and her pals are, as usual, whooping it up in the local bar. One thing is different this time, however: rather than being dressed like she just walked off of Brokeback Mountain, Grace seems to have made some sort of effort to gussie herself up. She's wearing a blouse that could pass as fancy (in Oklahoma), and she has also apparently commandeered two chandeliers from the local Apex Hardware store and affixed them to her ears. Grace and Rhetta are playing a game where Rhetta tosses a grape across the room and into Grace's open mouth, cause for the whole bar to cheer. Ham shows up and the whole crew makes bets, mayhem and general mischief. That is, until Grace's sister and two brothers arrive and sit stiffly at the bar. Talk about throwing a bucket of water on the party. "This can't be good," Grace sighs, the front of her shirt stuffed with cash.