Now that the Red Devils have murdered a small fishing village of vaguely unmemorable supporting characters, it might be time to start caring. Last episode, the Kappas tried valiantly to halt this Red Devil scourge with their rousing game of Spin the Suffocated Lesbian, yet somehow, the killers remain at large. It’s almost like slumber parties don’t even cure murder anymore. What is the world coming to?

But of all those people who’ve been successfully neck-stabbed into oblivion by the Red Devil so far, one of them even matters enough to merit a funeral: Ariana Grande.

Apparently, Ariana Grande’s Chanel #2 has just been rotting in that haunted closet for the last 125 weeks, which means it’s high time her corpse got shot into space. Since her parents are off on one of those Disney Congratulations On Your Dead Children Cruises (fun for some of the family!), that duty falls to the planet’s nicest saint, Chanel.

Sigh. Forced to be a perfect generous unicorn yet again, Chanel fulfills sorority tradition by organizing an open-casket sunglasses party for Chanel #2. It’s what she would have wanted. Though sunglasses are an odd choice considering that this funeral appears to be made of nothing but shade.

So, in spite of hating everything about #2 for having sex with Chad and also existing, Chanel successfully musters almost one and a half emotions and slaps on her best “I’d miss you if I weren’t so fabulous” black feathers of mourning. Because she’s such a good friend.

As Ostrich of Honor, it’s up to Chanel to deliver the official “goodbye, I’ll miss your nothing” eulogy to celebrate the memory of Chanel #2 as a loving huge skank who strutted like a dumb hobo and kept pushing everyone down the stairs. “Have fun being dead.” End of funeral. Take notes everyone, because that’s how a champion eulogizes.

While Chanel put on a really good show of being a laser-eyed swamp monster during the funeral, in reality, she’s an ocean of tears about what a backstabbing whore Chanel #2 was. The Lesser Chanels instantly rush to her side to tell Chanel that they really care about all her feelings in spite of getting her arrested, oh, 20 seconds ago. You know, sisterhood.

Chanel #5 has been thinking (never a good sign) and goes, “Hey, your sudden feud with #2’s corpse seems like a really flimsy excuse for a séance episode!” It sure does. #5 suggests that they use a Ouija board to summon #2’s spirit so she can apologize for dying before Chanel had a chance to ruin her worthless life. She goes on to add, “Also, because Ouija is a registered trademark, we have to call it a ‘talking board,’ like nobody has ever done. Cool?” Cool, Chanel #5.

Thankfully, Chanel #2 had an open slot in her busy schedule of Eiffel Towering Hitler and Satan (this show is so obsessed with the idea of Eiffel Towering—it’s every week), so she shows up to the séance right on schedule to communicate the massive, definitely-needed-to-be-a-ghost-to-know-this news that Chad is cheating on Chanel. WHAT?!??! Her spirit goes on to add that the sky is blue, Meryl Streep is good at acting, and cool ranch Doritos are better than nacho cheese Doritos. Yeah thanks, Einstein. We couldn’t have done it without you.

For some reason, probably having to do with brain damage, Chanel is shocked by this revelation and bursts through all the world’s walls on her way to Chad’s room to interrogate him. As per always, Chad is found in bed, rubbing his abs against a goat. Your question is what?

Apparently, Chanel had selective deafness during every waking moment when Chad was going, “I DO BESTIALITY AND TOMBSTONES,” so she wants to break up with him on the grounds of “that’s a goat.” But then, Chad puts on his skimpy silk explaining robe to says things like, “disability” and “lactose intolerance.” See, he totally needs to drink goat’s milk directly from a therapy sex goat for his health. Well why didn’t you say so? Relationship solved!

Elsewhere, Grace is taking Gigi shopping to tell her that her clothes are hideous and that Wes will definitely break up with her for being so ugly (nice girl…). She keeps trying to force her into all these weird blazers that aren’t even magenta. Gross, right? But Gigi has bigger problems. She just had a little “things we lost in the rage stroke” performance review with one of the useless Red Devils and needs to divert suspicion away from herself and onto a crate of red herrings. She turns to Grace and says, “So, there’s this girl.” Grace goes, “This girl?!?! I’m on it!”

Grace and Pete swiftly head over to Kappa to meet a person constructed entirely out of Etsy sites. Her name is Feather. Obviously. Being a journalist, Pete says journalism things like, “I have a question,” and “hmmm,” to which Feather responds, “THE DEAN IS A MURDERER. Also, hi.”

In an effort to distract everyone from thinking about how her name is Feather, Feather takes us on a flashback journey to two years ago, when she met Dean Jamie Lee’s husband and fell in love with his hilariously ridiculous English accent enough to run away with it forever.

Surprisingly, Dean Jamie Lee didn’t take the news super well and soon began flipping through that famous guidebook, The Freakiest Possible Things To Do. Inspired, she decided to appear in mirrors dressed exactly like Feather (if she were holding a giant knife and smiling like a malfunctioning robot butler), and when that didn’t work, she went full bathtub electrocution. Ha ha ha, girl stuff.

Breakthrough! That’s just the kind of scoop Pete needs to do journalism! But not so fast. As the saying goes, snitches get their lovers decapitated. Feather comes home to Mr. Dean to find the house covered in severed limbs and blood signs saying things like “STEP THIS WAY,” which is honestly one of the more polite things you could slather in blood on a door. If I saw that blood sign, I would be like, “Oh, such a gentleman. My goodness.” After stepping this way, Feather finds Mr. Dean’s head bobbing in a fish tank. Natural causes?

The next morning, the dean meets with Detective Failure to go, “I fell down the stairs of my apartment that doesn’t have stairs. Might I interest you in a vagina?” Actually, no, because he’s here on official business to award her the 2015 Psycho McBonkerspants Medal for achievement in the field of obviously killing her husband.

The detective immediately straps her into a straitjacket, even though she isn’t going to an 1840s insane asylum, because only an idiot would see the words “Jamie Lee Curtis” and “straitjacket” and not shout, “OH, WE’RE DOING THAT.”

Grace and Pete spend the night congratulating themselves for making a poster board about the murders. Journalism achieved! Pushpins! But just as they’re veering dangerously close to the Matthew McConaughey-impressions portion of the evening, they’re interrupted by an unknown caller. Grace answers her phone, like a loser, only to find that it’s Dean Jamie Lee, calling from the 1840s insane asylum and asking to meet them because of “mwahahahaha.”

Obviously, Grace and Pete teleport right over to discover that the dean is living the good life in Stereotypical Loony Bin, drawing pictures of stick figures with gray blobs on them (someone call Project Runway!) and yelling at the staff. What more could a person ask for?

She summoned Grace and Pete to tell them that Feather seems really easy to frame for murder, then promptly performs a little skit about how she can’t eat bologna. Grace and Pete consent to being as dumb as a pile of wigs and believing every word out of the dean’s mouth, just as long as she tells them the truth about the 1995 baby. Because Grace has never had a thought that isn’t “1995 baby bathtub.”

Also, there’s a cuckoo lady who can’t say anything except, “I PAINT THEM ALL,” and I want to travel the country with her.

Pete has acquired all the crime scene photos from Mr. Dean’s decapitation (because of “Have at it, youths!”) and instantly finds a picture of a partially eaten bologna sandwich made by the killer. A CLUE! He goes, “But the dean refused a bologna sandwich several seconds ago right in front of us! What does gullible mean?”

Following that well-known police guideline of “no bologna = innocent,” the super sleuths quickly turn their suspicions to Feather, deciding to steal her toothbrush to do a DNA bologna test. Say it with me now, DNA bologna test. Pete remains terrible at burglary, but he and Grace still somehow manage to snatch Feather’s toothbrush and, five seconds later, confirm that Feather’s DNA is all up in that murder bologna.

With Feather now arrested, Dean Jamie Lee is free to strut into Kappa going, “I’m the best!” and confirm that Feather really does deserve to go to jail for life because she pronounces bologna the way it’s spelled. Correct decision.

Back in the land of ghosts, the Chanels gather once again to re-séance Chanel #2 to tell her that she’s a stupid trash spirit who’s horrible at being omniscient.

The plan backfires, however, when #2’s spirit correctly counts the flock of tampons hidden in Neck Brace’s purse, incontrovertibly proving her psychic ghost powers. She then goes, “P.S. Chanel is an apocalypse who’s totally the killer.”

Because of tampon telepathy, Neck Brace knows this accusation must be true, so she adopts Level 10 Crazy Eyes and calls the other Lesser Chanels together to go, “All this murder has got me thinking about murder.” They must kill Chanel before Chanel kills them. The only question is how to do it. Poison her nipples? Make her eat sharp little diamond pieces during one of those sugar parties where everyone just eats bowls of sugar? Both tremendous suggestions. Sadly, neither will come to pass.

While Chanel is enjoying the horrific slumber of someone who just downed several quarts of olde tyme laxatives, she is visited by the dream-ghost of Chanel #2.

Ghost #2 returned from hell because Carl Sagan told her to apologize, and also because Jesus stole all the dinosaurs and it’s super lame there. (So we’ve officially entered the Jesus-stealing-dinosaurs portion of the Ryan Murphy Experience. I’m not complaining.) As part of her apology tour, #2 tells Chanel about Neck Brace’s murder plan, but also that it’s her solemn duty as the not-lame one to overcome all this bloodlust and reunite the Kappas in the bonds of holy fake-friendship and vindictiveness.

Adhering to the commandment Thou Shalt Not Ignore Advice From Ghost Ariana Grande, Chanel maturely moves past her instinct to slaughter the Lesser Chanels for being so bad at murder and instead gets right to the presents: Nancy Drew hats and giant magnifying glasses for everyone! Damn. Consider this murder solved.

Now that the dean has been released from the 1840s, she really needs to swill some wine and voiceover the crap out of this episode conclusion by telling us how awesome she was at decapitating her husband and framing Feather for it while making it all look like the work of the Red Devil. And she was pretty awesome at it. She got the idea the very first time Feather came to her office and went, “Do you mind if I steal your husband? I’m 11. I don’t know how to pronounce bologna. KTHANKSBYE.” And I think we can all support that. Well played, dean. Enjoy your glass prison, Feather!

So there we have it. The killer remains everyone and the biggest lead remains “the year 1995,” but we did learn some important lessons about sugar parties, pronouncing bologna, and why you shouldn’t go to hell just for the dinosaurs.

Quote of the week:

“I don’t trust a girl with a huge bush of pubic hair. Makes you think she has something to hide.” – Dean Perfect