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In the past 12 hours, singer Jhene Aiko and her rapper boyfriend Big Sean have been all over social media with people wondering whether rumors were true about the "IDFWU" lyricist cheating on her.

There’s no show better suited for elaborate publicity stunts and exclusive promotions than Westworld. And that’s never been clearer than it was with SXSW 2018’s one-of-a-kind Westworld experience.

Dubbed the Westworld: Live Without Limits Weekend, the staggeringly elaborate in-universe event that occurred on March 9 -March 11 took up more than two acres of land outside Austin. Upon arriving at the park portal, the lucky few guests got their customary black or white hats, boarded a train, and were then given (mostly) free reign of Sweetwater. That meant visiting reproductions of the Mariposa and other landmarks familiar to fans of the show, hobnobbing with hosts, and, if they were so inclined, searching for clues about where the series will go next.

Putting the town of Sweetwater together was no easy feat. HBO, agency Giant Spoon, and Westworld co-creators Jonathan Nolan and Lisa Joy began conceptualizing the park last November. It took five weeks of construction, 58 vendors, 60 actors, six stunt performers, five bands, and even a handful of horses (well, six, which is more than a handful) to bring the park together—and judging from the photos, all that effort was well worth it.

If this was how HBO and the Westworld showrunners built on their immersive experiences at SDCC and NYCC last year, we can only speculate how much further they’ll go for future seasons. We already know Nolan and Joy are nowhere near the show’s endpoint. Back in February, we found out via Delos Destinations that there are at least five more parks to discover. Could those be the basis for future special events? Here’s hoping. In the meantime, I’ll just painstakingly tear off another one of the links in my paper chain counting down to the season two premiere on April 22.

Would you rather herd cattle in Westworld or wield a samurai sword in one of the new Delos Destinations? Let us know in the comments!

Images: HBO

More TV news!

• Titans TV series will introduce Jason Todd.
• Supernatural gets animated in the Scooby Doo crossover episode.
• Alan Cumming joins Doctor Who as a villain.

Season: 1 / Episode: 8 / Starz

***Spoilers be quoting Slim Charles and saying, “If it’s a lie, then we fight on that lie.” Previous COUNTERPART recaps are here***

Maaaan, listen. We start this shit off with a flashback of sorts, or more so, a “meanwhile back in Episode 6” type shit. When Pope called and asked if this was the dry cleaners that shit was something serious, yo. They at the Indigo School in full alert going Fahrenheit 451. They out here burning everything gotdamn thing, yo. The prime crew in the woods get discovered in the middle of the purge and they all go inside. They got a whole satchel of cyanide pills, yo.

But it ain’t the quiet goodnight just yet. These muthafuckas got the Punisher’s weapon locker and they going to war over this shit, fam. Bodies hitting the floor outside, documents getting flamed on the inside. This shit is all the way real, man. Your boy Shaw took one to the shoulder, but fuck it. He spit that bullet out and still killed a dude cuz there’s more work to be done.

Meanwhile, this ol “down with the ship” heifer done packed her shit up and leaving out the back while ayebody else getting sprayed the fuck up. Dude tries to call her out on it, but he like, fuck it, I’d rather live too, I guess.

Howard walking the scene and checking this carnage. Shit is fucking crazy. Shaw and Emily Prime aka EPMD talking about this place and not knowing what the fuck they lookin’ at. EPMD brings Shaw into the classroom and she shows him the timeline they were creating, how they were comparing the two worlds and schooling the youth and shit.

Howard finds the, ahem, operating room. He fucking mortified cuz they done fed the kiddies cyanide pills, man. Gotdamn this shit is the worst.

Interdimensional In-Laws, Am I Right?

Speaking of the worst, Howard in Black aka HIB hears a phone ringing in the house. He picks that shit up and it’s his… mother-in-law. I guess. She calling cuz she done made it to Berlin. She in Emily Coma’s hospital room cuz Emily is no longer… in a coma.

So… that’s awkward.

Not nearly as awkward as this shit that must be going on in the Quayle residence. St. Pete trying to get the baby to stop crying cuz Snake Ass Clare is handcuffed to a radiator in the bathroom.

HIB gets to the hospital and Charlotte there to tell him that E Coma might not understand anything. She awake but she ain’t responded to shit.

Innocence Lost, or at Least Innocence Got Mercy Ruled

Baldwin sleeping that comfortable ass sleep, like he doesn’t have a bounty on his head/isn’t a world jumping assassin or anything. Greta trying to get Baldwin to open up, stay for breakfast, apply to the local community college, something. But she asking too many questions, yo. Baldwin like, yeah… it’s been good, but I gotta go.

At the hollowed out remains of the Indigo School, they still going through the shit left behind, and EPMD convinces Shaw not to call this shit in. She still a little gun shy cuz last time she went through official channels, they tried to give her that rockstart at age 27 treatment. They got their suspicions that Pope is behind this shit, but they trying to get their ducks in a row first.

EPMD tries to see if Howard is fine but that muthafucka ain’t fine. Problem is, Howard can’t be cracking now cuz he supposed to be HIB and Shaw watching this shit like a hawk. They discover what this shit really is, a replacement school for terrorist cells. Fun. Shaw asks Howard check with his people in customs to see if any of these cats have crossed over recently. EPMD volunteers to go with him. Shaw is like, the fuck for? But she throws him off by mentioning that dude from the interrogation was the only one that knew they were coming. For what its worth, EPMD seems to be one of the few people that are pretty damn good at their job.

Everybody is a Prisoner of Someone’s

SAC still chained up like the mom from Unbreakable. The baby still crying. St. Pete still questioning her and she comes clean about everything… except the part about her strangling the fucking life out of MHOBC. Extracted. Uh-huh. St. Pete finally lets SAC feed Borrowed Name Spencer, tears falling like this whole fucking façade.

At the hospital, HIB is getting briefed on E-Coma’s condition. Charlotte gonna step in talking about whatever care is best for her, we’ll do it, after she got done playing Cookie crush on her phone or some shit. HIB ain’t havin’ it. She knows Charlotte ain’t shit. Her whole family ain’t shit. But she is here to stay now so I can’t wait till Howard gets back and sees this shit. Or till HIB sees what the hell is going on at the Quayle Household. Everybody in for surprise parties, fam.

EPMD and Howard leaving the house and Howard still shook. EPMD tells him that they need to get in touch with HIB because that’s the only person she can trust. But HIB or someone that looks exactly like him got a better standing in the office so this might be on him.

SAC and St. Pete talkin’ this shit out and how this is an act of war. SAC drops that this shit is payback for the flu epidemic. St. Pete goes to turn her in, but she start talkin’ that shit to him. Saying he gonna be just as fucked when this shit goes down as she will. Also, Spencer got that Prime DNA in her so she bout to be a lab rat like a muthafucka.

Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Murders

Baldwin scoping shit out and sees one of the targets doing some shopping. Your boy was legit just enjoying his muthafuckin day, bringing home some Trader Joes in whatever hipster part of Berlin when she put the garot to him. Fucking self-tightening shit. She for real went riding her bike with no hands on your boys assassination. Colllllllddddd-blooodddded.

Howard doing his HIB impression at customs and confirms these children of the corn muthafuckas crossed over.

Aldrich just drops by to holla at St. Pete. This shit look all the way bad, man. He offers your boy soup, which is a great plan cuz he watching St. Pete’s hand trembling like a muthafucka. HOW IS THIS DUDE A SPY? I know I’ve told y’all before, when a muthafucka rolls up on you and tells an unsolicited analogy that just so happens to coincide with whatever shit you are secretly going through, DON’T LET THEM FINISH. Get the fuck out, man. But nah, St. Pete too shook so he just listens to Aldrich demonstrate how cold he is for the cause. He tells St. Pete he’s leaving dudes outside the house, but he’s letting him come in on his own terms. I say gotdamn.

EPMD catches Raash walking his dog, as he is wont to do. She tells him that needs to get HIB a message. And oh yeah, I know the Howard muthafucka currently here ain’t HIB, FYI. On both sides, EPMD and HIB trying to arrange an interface that night to relay information.

Title FIIIIIIGHT

Howard walking into interface and this is actually some shit he knows how to do. And just like that, HIB and Howard seeing each other again. Bruh. This might be the best scene of the series. This shit just confirmed that JK Simmons is winning the Golden Globe next year, yo. No. Fucking. Contest.

Howard is going the fuck off. HIB is smug as all hell. And HIB lies about E-Coma waking up. But he does tell Howard that she was fucking Andrei. Man, he cut Howard to the gotdamn bone. And… Howard knew all along that E-Coma was not only cheating but also a spy. He just suppressed that shit. Jesus, man. This shit went from bad to fucking sad to Howard resolving that shit and making HIB look smaller than how he came in. Jesus, Simmons is Da Gawd.

The ability to love someone, is the only thing that separates me, from you.

FUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCKKKKKK

Man, both Howards walk out there all kinds of fucked up.

So I think I Gotta Drop Saint from St. Pete

Late night at Greta’s, and Baldwin comes back up in the spot. Um… breaks into the spot actually. Cuz that’s how you tell someone you miss them. Breaking and entering. Greta gotta be like… so maybe you I don’t pick up scarface drifters in my coffee shop anymore.

St. Pete waiting at the Hotel Walcot. Aldrich is there on schedule. St. Pete confesses that he’s been manipulated but he ain’t the mole itself. And then… he lays that shit on Howard Silk.

What in all fucks, man? There was literally one good way to do this shit and this muthafucka chose one of the other 8 billion. Ok… ok, that’s cool. But St. Pete gotta die too when this shit is done. No debating, he gots to go. First you were an idiot, but now you a fuckin’ snake like Snake Ass Clare.

Ugh… as if the Howards didn’t have enough shit to deal with. I think it’s fair to say things are as bad as they’ve ever been.

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Last year, a report found that the median wealth for a Black family in America was just $1,700 compared to $116,800 for a typical white family. Even more startling, if these trends continue, by 2053 the median wealth for Black families will be zero. The gap between those who have it and those who don’t can be felt across America, but more acutely in urban areas where the cost of living has increased. While cities like New York, Washington, D.C., Los Angeles, and Atlanta are experiencing a resurgence as people flock to rapidly gentrifying areas, residents of color are often priced out. In New Orleans, the median income of Black families fell from $32,332 in 2000 to $27,812 in 2013, while the income of their white counterparts remained steady, going from $61,117 in 2000 to $60,070 in 2013. While many people don’t give this reality a second thought, Chef Tunde Wey’s latest experiment is helping to further the conversation about the growing income divide. At the end of February, Wey opened a pop up restaurant called Saartj. The booth sold Nigerian entrees for $12 a plate, but when white patrons placed their order they’d be schooled on New Orleans’ growing racial income gap and asked if they’d pay $30 for the food so that the additional $18 would be redistributed to Saartj’s customers of color. The experiment had surprising results. “Some of [the white customers] are enthusiastic, some of them are bamboozled a bit by it,” Wey told NPR. “But the majority of white folks, nearly 80 percent, decided to pay.” Wey conducted the experiment with the assistance of Tulane University graduate student Anjali Prasertong, who also helped him collect data. Prasertong said the high numbers of white customers who were willing to pay more than twice the price of the meal surprised her. “That was definitely higher than we expected,” Prasertong admitted. She also said that the experiment made her realize was that people of color think about the wealth disparity a lot more than their white peers. “One of the things I took away from interviewing people was a greater awareness that people of color have thought about wealth disparity and how it has touched their lives and the kinds of things they've lost out on because they didn't have access to the resources their white friends did,” Prasertong said. “Not that [white people] weren't aware,” she continued, “but they never really thought about how ... that might have affected where they are in the world in relation to people of color. They never stopped to think, 'Oh, that car my parents gave me in college allowed me to drive across town to get a good job.' ” Wey—who named the pop up stall Saartj after the 19th century South African woman Sara “Saartjie” Baartman who was paraded around Europe as a “freak of nature” because of her large buttocks—said he hoped the experiment helped people think about issues like  racism and inequality as more than just systematic problems they could do little about. “We think of this as a systemic issue, like something that happens outside of ourselves, when in fact the aggregate sum of all of our actions and choices exacerbates or ameliorates the wealth gap,” he said. Wey said he wants people to consider “where we choose to send our children to school, where we choose to buy a home and critically, how we choose to spend our money and where we choose to spend our money.”