At least, for now.
Burrito Supreme? No, just a new witch-type Supreme.
A major player becomes gator bait.
The third-to-last Coven was in no way like a dried-up Hot Pocket.
To the gypsy who remains — and is remains, amirite, Misty?
Patti LuPone finally sings! Catatonically and depressingly, but we'll take it.
Fiona: "less Samantha and more Endora with every day."
“Are you James Franco?”
Séances and spirit boards.
Things are heating up. Literally.
Happy Halloween, Fiona.
We have found the Seven Wonders, and they are all in this show.
Like we're supposed to believe someone as fabulous as Jessica Lange would use the Marimba ringtone ...
If you thought that you’d be spared truly dark stuff after last season’s Asylum … you thought wrong.
A surprisingly moving end for our Asylum characters. Except for that one guy. He got it good.
Forward in time, then back, then forward again.
"There's so many questions, I don't even know where to begin."
Crazy crazy bo bazy banana-fana fo fazy ...
Was this kind of a good one?
Merry early Christmas, you godless pinheads.
Well, we guess it can't be rainbows and colostrum every week.
Little girls with blonde braids: not dangerous. Little girls with red braids: not dangerous. Little girl with brown hair: murderers.
So now we know who the serial killer is.
Last night we pole-vaulted over the boundaries of good taste with an episode titled "I Am Anne Frank."
Wait ... so how many Bloody Faces are there?
There was a young priest and an old priest.
This whole season is going to be like a Marilyn Manson video.
And to all a good night.
Time for those babies to be born.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the ham."
The stakes are no longer just really gory, they're the end of the world.
The identity of rubber man is revealed.
"Every pregnant woman worries they've got a little devil in them!"
"I've just come from a meeting with Lifetime, they're interested in making a pilot of me."
Halloween finishes up with oh so many ghosts.
"You're screwing that twink trainer of yours, and I need gourds!"
Another murder in the house happened in 1983, and there's a Camaro reference to prove it.
And a stabbing.
This show does not waste time.
Information from the Comic-Con panel.
"Bette and Dot."
Can't sleep. Clown'll eat me.
Small-screen storytelling is finally breaking out of the box.
"All I know is I'm not the bearded lady."
He says he'll be battling Jessica Lange.
The carnival one.
A deranged one, duh.