Every 17 minutes in America, someone is killed with a gun. Politicians can't seem to stop the violence. But epidemiologists, psychologists and big data crunchers are discovering that gun crime spreads like a virus -and science may be able to stop its spread.

In the second episode, Nathan develops a rehearsal for Angela, a woman considering motherhood. Nathan hires child actors to simulate adopting and caring for a baby and sets her up in a rented farmhouse in rural Oregon. Due to Oregon child protection laws, Nathan's team must covertly switch out the baby every four hours and replace it with a robot baby at night. Seeking a simulated husband, Angela dates Robbin, a numerology-obsessed man who wants to have sex with Angela despite her devout Christian beliefs against premarital sex. When Robbin quits the project due to the robot baby's incessant crying, Nathan inserts himself into the experiment as Angela's non-romantic co-parent.

Nathan and Angela accelerate their parenting rehearsal with three-year-old, then six-year-old actors portraying their fake son, 'Adam'. Angela refuses to participate in Halloween due to her belief in Satanic conspiracies.
Nathan balances parenting duties with a rehearsal for Patrick, a man who wants to confront his brother over their late grandfather's will, which bans Patrick from inheriting money if he is dating a 'gold digger'. The rehearsal occurs in a replica Raising Cane's restaurant in a warehouse next to the relocated Alligator Lounge. To introduce real emotions to the rehearsal, Nathan stages a scenario to convince Patrick that he could inherit buried gold from the grandfather of Isaac, the actor who plays Patrick's brother. After Patrick has an emotional breakthrough during a rehearsal, he leaves the production and never returns. Nathan narrates that he is envious that self-deception is easy for some people as he ponders his fake family.

'It's really about terror and intimidation and people basically fighting for survival and often committing extraordinary violence in order to protect themselves or to stay safe. It's kind of like the weak dog in the pack. If others spot weakness, they're gonna pounce on you for a couple of reasons. You pounce on that guy, that gives you a little more status. So, I had to ask myself, are you gonna be a victim? No, I ain't gonna be a victim. Well, that really only left me one choice in my mind. That means I gotta be the victimizer. At some point, for some reason, might be legitimate, might not be, someone's gonna test you.. Even if you lose, you're gonna have to stand up for yourself. '
'A guy comes over, and it's your day to get your package, and he tries to take your package from you that your people sent you, if you let him do it, there's gonna be 10 other dudes, oh, yeah, he let that guy take his package, I'm gonna go get his TV, right down the line until somebody's after your ass. But if you stand up that first time and they see you'll stand up for yourself, even if you lose, people will respect that. Oh, don't mess with him. There's easier prey. Why do you have to go and get that guy and get a couple lumps for it when he can go get that guy's stuff over there, don't cost you nothing. It usually only has to happen once or twice but just as importantly that you didn't go to the man for help... you're gonna be all right.'

A powerful depiction of Vladimir Mukhin's struggle to resuscitate an almost forgotten russian cuisine, going against the established tradition. Be prepared for stunning images of culinary creations at White Rabbit, some will leave you uneased.
A fifth-generation chef, Mukhin worked in his father’s kitchen as a young man, preparing Soviet-era classics. So, like generations of youths before him, Mukhin had to rebel against the old man. He left his small hometown of Essentuki for Moscow and became obsessed with modern techniques and food from across Europe. It wasn’t until he worked as a sous chef in France, when he collaborated on a menu with chef Christian Etienne, that Mukhin realized Russian cuisine could exist within modern cooking. 'His French clients who ate it were amazed,' he says. ¡They loved his Russian cooking.'

Nancy Silverton describes her life path involving both Los Angeles and Italy, her family and her obsession with bread. She was born in Sherman Oaks, CA in a family where going out to eat was considered a special treat. But when she entered college and found herself 'very attracted by a handsome man' who worked in a kitchen, she landed herself a job and a new passion.
These details, which all lead up to her stint at Wolfgang Puck’s celebrated LA restaurant Spago in 1982, are intercut with present-day scenes of Silverton working at Osteria Mozza.