Oye, Vatos

Show taught some lessons, homes:

1. Don't mess with the Cholos.
2. Don't mess with the Cholos' abuelas.

In my experience, few things in life are badder ass or tighter knit than a band of Mexicans. Hita and hito could go on a killing spree that makes Jeffry Dahmer look like an anorexic and family will fly in from corners of the universe you didn't know existed to spin a web of support so co-dependent, law enforcement is exhausted before they even start the paperwork.

Which is why I would have loved to have seen direct, hand-to-hand combat between the zombies and Guillermo and his gang. But, as it turns out, Guillermo is a bad ass with a heart, three trembling chihuahuas, and the Herculean task of just trying to do the right thing for all the old folks that were left behind when the zombies came a munchin' (what, zombies don't like old people?) Still, it was an effectively emotional sequence, one of the few of the entire evening.

Let's run down the clunkers and the highlights:

Clunkers:

The opening fishing scene between sisters Amy and Andrea dripped with the kind of soapy emotion that gives me goosebumps in a bad way, until a light bulb went off in my head and I was all, ruh roh. This must mean one of these two chicas is gonna bite it. Goody.

The whole Jim-goes-crazy-with-the-hole-digging sequence seemed strangely flat to me, especially given what it ended up portending. If the zombie apocalypse actually produced a psychic or two, then they're going to have to be more compelling than dwoopy Jim.

Where was Lourdes? Mexican men, for all their machismo, are rarely without their bitches. This show suffers from a decided lack of interesting female characters and I would have loved to see a couple cholas with their eyeliner and hair poofs fixing Daryl with the ol' el ojo.

Highlights:

Sheriff Rick gets his guns and his hat back, thus completing his hot-man-of-principle-and-action persona.

Zombie fish fry. Truly scary stuff with gore flinging galore. Plus, Irritating Amy bites it.

Which of course, begs the question, who will have the courage to chop her head off? Where now for our merry band of survivors? Stay? Go? And, most importantly, where the heck is Merle?