A review of tonight's "You're the Worst" coming up just as soon as I'm in a war with an autistic kid from Sweden who keeps blocking me on Instagram...

"You're the Worst" has a pretty small regular cast by modern TV comedy standards(*), but a good-sized and robust collection of recurring characters. "Dead Inside" doesn't put them all on display — Sam and his crew don't come to the get-together party, and Vernon arrives without Becca Barbara so he can be unencumbered to pursue a friendship agenda with Jimmy — but it puts the bulk of the show's recurring cast, including new addition Mageina Tovah as Paul's delightfully-named girlfriend Amy Cadingle, under one roof to bounce off each other in amusing ways. (Though the episode's funniest gag — Paul recounting the increasingly-horrifying story of how his friend Connor's wife died — took place before the party sequence.)

(*) Ignoring "Louie," of course, because "Louie" is the exception to all rules and norms. 

Now, the downside to doing a larger ensemble episode like this is that it becomes harder to service everyone. Jimmy winds up largely on the outside of the episode looking in, even if Chris Geere does a good job playing exasperated at Gretchen's slovenly, sign-ignoring(**) friends, and even Gretchen's discovery that most of her former dirtbag friends have grown up (while one has gotten even worse than Gretchen herself) felt a little more predictable than I imagine it would have if the episode had had more time to spend on it.

(**) My favorite rule from one of Jimmy's signs, because of the utter British-ness of it: "No gang colours."

But all the bits with Killian, Vernon, Paul, and Amy were a treat, and it was another interesting (if still sad) episode for Edgar's pursuit of Lindsay. For a moment, she has an epiphany about how terrible she is — and the brief burst of self-awareness only makes Edgar want her more — but then she gets twisted up again with the thought of making Paul jealous, and Edgar's back to just being a plaything in her nasty game.

Oh, well. As a wise woman once told me, you can't force vagina tingles.

What did everybody else think?

(Headline courtesy of this song:)

Alan Sepinwall has been reviewing television since the mid-'90s, first for Tony Soprano's hometown paper, The Star-Ledger, and now for HitFix. His new book, "TV (The Book)" about the 100 greatest shows of all time, is available now. He can be reached at sepinwall@hitfix.com