Episode Report Card Deborah: C- | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT "Can You See Them / See Right Through Them"
By Deborah | Season 2 | Episode 14 | Aired on 01.27.2005
Will's office. It's a good thing we see his nameplate, because everything isn't saturated with blue and I wouldn't have had a clue where we are. He phones somebody named Reggie and makes a secret request for this guy to pull some phone records for him: Lucyfer's. She suddenly busts into his office without knocking and says, "Grab your coat, Willie." "Willie"? I think not. Will tells Reggie, "Let me call you back, Helen." He asks Lucyfer, "What's up, Lieutenant?" She tosses him his coat: "Lunch. Why so formal? There's nobody else around. Lucy[fer]'s fine." Will claims he's swamped, and getting nowhere in the murder investigation. Lucyfer: "The guy killed your daughter's best friend! You really care if he was found in the bottom of a dumpster? I'd think you'd be celebrating. Come on. Lunch. Now." Yeesh. I don't think that whole domineering, aggressive thing works for Will, Lucyfer, but I highly recommend you check out Rex Van De Kamp. She walks toward the door, turns on her heel, and says, with an intimidating smile, "That's an order." Will: "I'm sure that's not an order I have to follow." Lucyfer: "Suit yourself, Detective." Yikes. I'll bet Chewy turns up dead next. He'll mysteriously choke to death on an Everlasting Gobstopper. Lucyfer will pin it on an Oompa-Loompa.
Luke and Friedman are walking outside the school. Friedman's quizzing Luke about his driver's test but Luke pleads with him to stop. Friedman: "If I were sixteen, I'd want you to do it for me. There's a lot riding on this, man: us on the open road, wind in our hair, two gorgeous babes in the back seat…" Luke points out he'll be driving Helen's station wagon: "There's paint cans in the back seat." Friedman: "Okay, it's a fantasy, dude. Don't kill my buzz." Luke says Grace is right, that there are ecological ramifications. Friedman hopes Luke isn't seriously considering not getting his license because of Grace. Don't wait until you're forty, man -- that teenage feeling of invincibility? It goes away. Trust me, it does. It's a lot harder to learn to drive after you've seen several decades of highway carnage. Mind you, you'd do a lot better on insurance if you weren't a male aged 16-25. Friedman: "You cannot let her put your you-know-whats in a you-know-what. You know?" Luke: "I'm at once confused and disturbed by what you just said." Friedman rambles on with some macho baloney about virility and driving which makes me wonder if I'll need to start estrogen supplements soon. They both suddenly notice a fabulous red sports car, a Viper, I guess. An $85,000 car in the school parking lot? Sure thing. No doubt it's Mr. Price's. Actually, it's probably Lischak's. Whatever. They walk closer to it, gasping in shock and awe. Luke: "V-10 engine…500 horses…zero to sixty in 3.9…seconds." Frink: "Oh. My. God." Me: "Try not to soil the sofa." Friedman, chortling nervously: "I'm gonna pass out." Luke: "Quiz me." Friedman turns to the book: "Okay. Road rage."
Kevin's watching a weather forecast by someone named Storm Summers (or maybe "Somers") when Joan gets home. Joan wants to know who names their kid "Storm." People who watch a lot of dumb soap operas? ["Frank Field, a local NYC weather guy, named his son Storm, and then Storm became a weather guy on a competing station. This relevant yet uninteresting factoid was brought to you by…" -- Sars] Joan: "Was his dad in the X-Men?" Through a mouthful of potato chips Kevin says, "Hey, being glib and vapid is harder than it looks." Joan snatches the bag of chips, which is huge. The guy's forecasting ninety degrees tomorrow, which puzzles Joan. Kevin says it's a tape; he got the tape from the "TV people" at the courthouse: "They said if I ever have a decent story to pitch, they'd give me a try." Joan: "Oh, so you want to be Storm Girardi?" I actually think Kevin Girardi sounds exactly like the name of a sportscaster. Kevin says "Storm" also does man-on-the-street spots, too, like the guy who can belch "God Bless America" and the woman who baked Arcadia's largest croissant: "Or…the girl who saved her friend from certain death." Joan figures out where this is going: "No." Kevin beams at her. She refuses. He says, "They saw my article. They wanted to talk to you and [The Duff]." Joan says it's already all too much for her. Kevin sighs: "Relax. I already said you wouldn't do it." Joan: "Good. Thank you." Kevin: "Unless I did the interview myself." Joan: "You used me. That's nice. Nice." Kevin laughs: "Hey…what good is a sister if you can't take advantage of her?" Frink: "Uh, dude, you want to maybe…rephrase that?" Joan: "You really want to be a newscaster?" Kevin: "I'm charming, I'm cute, I can sit for hours in a chair…" Yeah, who needs J-school? That's for Twinkies. Joan: "You don't care about the facts." Kevin: "It's perfect, right?" Frink: "Yeah, you should be able to get a job at Fox News, no problem." Kevin talks into the remote control: "'So, Joan, how does it feel to be revered by the masses?'" Joan smiles in spite of herself -- she's so susceptible to him -- and says, "You so owe me." She knocks the remote out of his hand.