Rhea Seehorn has undoubtedly been a game-changer, and one of the most significant contributions she's made is carrying the weight of an entire episode of Pluribus on her shoulders. She's been the backbone of the season, intertwining with a larger narrative that is inherently captivating. In "Got Milk," the fifth episode, she takes center stage, as the episode itself lacks much else to hold our attention. It's akin to the fly episode in Breaking Bad, but with drones, indicating that our species' evolution can be traced by the obsession of lonely, desperate individuals in Vince Gilligan's shows.

Highlighting Seehorn's brilliance is a backhanded compliment in the best sense. Without her, "Got Milk" wouldn't hold together. There's a revelation at the end, or at least a ghost of one, but the focus is on Carol's mental health spiral. Seehorn is so good that it overshadows the weakness of the episode on its own terms.
However, it's a logical progression from the previous cliffhanger, where Carol pushed the Others too far by kidnapping and drugging Zosia, almost killing her, in the hope of reversing the Joining. As a result, Carol is frozen out. The aliens still care about her feelings but need space. It's a hilarious idea, implying that Carol is so grating to be around that even an alien hive mind dedicated to her happiness can get sick of her.
This information is relayed to Carol when she dials a line while waiting in the hospital for an update on Zosia's condition and wakes up to find the place empty. It could be a joke at the expense of faux-concerned customer service boilerplate, if you choose to see it that way. But it leaves Carol alone for the first time. As she rushes to the tallest building she can find, she sees the Others departing Albuquerque in a convoy of taillights. Carol has finally gotten what she thought she wanted, only to realize that she probably didn't want it after all.
Carol's complete isolation drives her mad. She tries to make the most of the situation by recording a message for other immune people, instructing the Others to pick it up and disseminate it, subtitled for non-English speakers. They do, but they send a drone to retrieve the recording, a comically impersonal gesture that doesn't go unnoticed. Carol obviously didn't anticipate a few things: that in the absence of the Others, she isn't entirely alone; all her thoughts and memories remain with her, which is why she can't bring herself to look at Helen's cold side of the bed. And this is assuming she can get any sleep at all, which she can't because the lack of power in the neighborhood has summoned hungry wolves to the backyard - which isn't a metaphor but could probably be interpreted as one all the same.
Carol's realization in Pluribus Episode 5 that she necessitates the Others to solve almost every obstacle she encounters is a subtle but poignant moment. She finds herself reaching out to them not only to restore the power but also to handle the mess, which prompts another drone's arrival. However, this one struggles with the colossal rubbish bag, spilling its contents on the road. As the repetitive recordings and precise instructions without any reassuring upbeat tone begin to weigh on her, Carol's focus shifts to the surprisingly abundant milk cartons scattered around. This leads her to a local dairy plant, now completely deserted like much of Albuquerque.
The milk cartons contain a water-like amber liquid with a white powder, and Carol conducts some testing to reveal its mundane properties: odorless, with an olive oil-like consistency, and a neutral, celery-esque pH level. The absurdity of her recording these findings in a video message is almost comical, as if she's exposing a grand conspiracy. The Others dutifully send a drone to pick it up, though their ultimate destination remains unknown.
Despite the sterile nature of "Got Milk," there's an underlying emotional depth. When the wolves return to dig up Helen's body from its shallow grave in the yard, Carol bravely scares them off, keeping watch all night and then covering the area with tiles and hand-painting a personalized headstone. In isolation, Carol's actions may seem humorous, but when one considers the reason behind them, there's a quiet horror and profound sadness that thrives in Pluribus.
Yet, the show also excels in the ongoing mystery of the situation, which takes another turn at the end of "Got Milk." On the bag containing the white powder in the milk cartons, Carol finds a barcode. The bag matches a dog food brand packaged at another abandoned local factory, Agri-Jet, which she decides to investigate. Inside, she discovers a massive walk-in fridge filled with various perishables and something wrapped in plastic. As Carol unwraps it, she gasps in shock. The audience, however, remains in suspense—a cliffhanger for next week.