In fact, so many dots were connected that it feels like Pizzolatto is overcorrecting in response to complaints that Season One kept its character backstories entirely separate from its murder mystery. As Vinci Confidential nears its end, it has started stitching its many threads into one big, gnarly dreamcatcher. Woodrugh’s romantic and professional associates reemerged in the Catalyst security force; Ani’s family provided intel and her partner helped protect them to make up for his complicity in her harassment proceedings; Ray’s troubles with his son and ex-wife have allowed him to consider leaving the country, and his framed-rapist saga has turned out to be a result of Blake’s criminal entrepreneurship; Frank’s many scenes of shakedowns are starting to pay off as he puts together a getaway/revenge plan. Most of this is not plausible, little of it is easy to follow, but all of it is is kind of fun to watch come together.

The most notable connection moment, or perhaps just the most horrifying, was the one between Ani and Ray. Shall we count the layers of awkwardness and trollish gender politics here from screenwriter and characters alike? First, there’s the fact that Ani threw herself at her partner right after surviving a prostitution party that made her flash back to her own sexual abuse, as if the combination of drugs and stimulation and sadness at the hands of men were too much to handle without comfort from… another man. Then there’s the fact the season’s main female character has now hooked up with just about every eligible cop she’s spent time with (well, not poor flatulent Dixon), even as she continues to be judgmental towards other women’s sexual activity. And finally, what ultimately brings Bezzerides and Velcoro together is bonding over sexual assault (Ani’s own, Ray’s wife’s), in yet another example of Pizzolatto believing trauma to be the only determinative thing about anyone’s personality or relationships.

But you know what? This might be the first time this season that we’ve seen two people do something simply because they wanted to and it because it made them feel good. If they end up on the same plane to Latin America as Frank and Jordan do in the next episode, all setting out to find a new life far away from Vinci, well, there are worse endings imaginable.

The other notable thing about the detectives’ spitswapping is that it checked off one of the last remaining paperback-romp tropes that this season hadn’t yet tackled. Chris, unlike you I’m still not convinced that True Detective isn’t going for satire (overproduced, tonally bizarre satire). There were moments this hour where the show seemed thrilled to be nonsensically cool, like a child giddily making up a story while playing with toy guns. I mean, the unveiling of secret tunnels under Vinci? The slow-mo glass bashing of Blake’s face? Not one but two sequences of Frank finding creative ways to light his casino on fire? His hilariously redundant shopping list? The emoji-laden blackmail text message to Paul? (Less cool, but definitely, um, striking: usurious Hasids and the revelation that the greedy gang boss is Jewish?) Let’s hope for everyone involved that most of this stuff was done with a wink. At the very least, let’s revel in the fact that none of it was boring.