With their options dwindling and their paranoia rising, Joel and Sheila consider making a move. Eric and Abby come up with a fracking good plan.

Eric's having girl problems, Abby's rage is showing, there's a talking head in the basement, and now -- sheesh -- the neighbor wants lasagna.

Joel and Sheila learn that the clampocalypse may hit sooner than they thought. Anne accepts constructive criticism like a pro.

Sheila and Joel piece together the previous night's events while dealing with a professional setback. Abby gets a bold new look, courtesy of Lisa.

OK, let’s see here: Joel’s stuck in an asylum, Sheila’s chained to a pole, and Abby’s on the hunt for Serbian bile. Yep, sounds about right.

Eager to secure a lucrative new listing, Joel and Sheila brainstorm how to knock rival realtors out of contention ... without resorting to murder.

007, he ain’t. Eric’s plan to go undercover as a seafood distributor hits a snag. Meanwhile, Joel and Sheila worry Abby is getting out of control.

After an old nemesis asks for a favor, Joel and Sheila find themselves neck deep in Nazis, raffle tickets and surprisingly stunning woodwork.

A snarky online review comes back to haunt Joel. Meanwhile, Sheila's new friendship proves problematic, and Abby leans into her new persona.

Is a colonel the clam connection? Joel’s on a stakeout to find out. Also, Abby has a date, and Sheila doesn't see eye to eye with her boss.