Episode Report Card Djb: B- | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Large And In Sarge
By Djb | Season 4 | Episode 8 | Aired on 08.07.2004
David and Ruth pull out of the driveway and don't get plowed sideways by a low-flying helicopter. As they make the right onto what I'll just call Cahuenga -- because you're never really that far from Cahuenga and it's so damn fun to say -- an ancient light blue classic Lincoln pulls into the driveway. The driver, an elderly African-American male wearing a suit, unearths a piece of paper from his jacket lapel, looks at it, places it on the dashboard, puts on his hat, and dies. James Dubois Marshall made it from 1923-2004, and it's nice to know that end date was completely up to him.
Rico "What Was All My Searching For It's Never Hard To Find A Whore" Diaz wakes up in a wifebeater that doesn't have any idea how much stronger his wife is than he. He rolls over and Sideways Eight wraps an arm around him, an intimate gesture that indicates that he paid the extra ten bucks for the option to kiss. She tells him, "You were such a lover last night. So good. Mmmmmm." Ew. Stop it. Just stop it. It's scaring the children. And speaking of children, don't you have one? Where is she? Sleeping under a blanket sewn together with food stamps and tears or heating a can of beans over the lone blue flame of a stolen Bunsen burner? Rico disagrees, telling her, "It was you." It totally was. She leans in for a kiss -- there's nothing Missouri finds arguable with this, it seems -- and then asks him what he's still doing there, noting, "It's late. You gotta go home." She hops out of bed because there's no bad time for another look at her titties and her g-string. Is that what she wears to bed? Does she also sleep on the pole? Those g-strings are uncomfortable! Or, um, so my stripper friends tell me. She wraps some kimono-ish type of thing around herself and advises Rico, "Just tell your wife you fell asleep in the car." Thanks, Miss Lonelyhearts! Because she's totally the person to be dispensing relationship advice. Or maybe she is, since Rico has already tried talking to a member of the clergy. But Rico cops to the fact that Vanessa has thrown her out of the house, and Sideways Eight responds with a perplexed "Shut up! For real?" Yes, yes. For real. Sideways Eight sits cross-legged on, like, an old milk crate filled with broken dreams, takes a royal hit off a conveniently-located joint, and espouses, "I don't know who else she thinks is out there. Give up a man like you." Hit. Deep breath. Hold it. "She's fucked up." And...exhale. I wonder if that's medicinal. I hear bad things about lupus. Rico sits up in bed and faces Sideways Eight, asking with what sounds like an increasingly sense of desperation, "I could stay here for a while, right?" Fifteen hundred bucks has to be good for something, after all. She casts around her memory bank for a good excuse and settles on "bald-faced lie" because she has all of the power in this relationship, telling him, "It's just that this apartment is so small, and my cousins, they use it all the time." Ah, the cousins defense. It's simple and untraceable, like killing off an uncle when you have a book report due. No one else ever did that? Yeah, me neither. Totally.
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