We open this week's Ed with a barrage of horn blasts. This audio effect carries on throughout the entire episode and is about the worst plot gimmick since that horrendous Seinfeld episode where the gang went to India and the entire episode was backwards. Granted, the horn blasts are needed to drive the point of the plot home, but this was one episode where the plot alone was torture to sit through without everyone screaming over horns for an hour on top of it. Anyway, we're at Stuckey Bowl. Shirley is approaching Ed, carrying a plate containing a piece of bread with a slice of cheese on top. Shirley tells Ed she's invented a new sandwich. Ed tells her it's called an open-faced sandwich. Shirley says she invented the sandwich and that she'll name it, thank you very much. Ed wants to know what the deal is with all the trucks. Shirley doesn't know. She's more concerned about what to name a slice of bread with cheese on top. So Ed wanders outside to the road in front of the bowling alley and starts waving down the trucks that are passing by. Finally, a trucker stops and gives Ed some hitchhiking advice: if you're going to hitch, write the city you're going to on a piece of cardboard and hold it up. This way, if a trucker sees a sign with a city on his route, he's more likely to stop. Ed tells the trucker that he's not hitching; if he were, Ed would be showing a bit more of that pale bony leg of his. Nay, Ed wants to know why all the trucks are in their sleepy little burg all of a sudden. The trucker tells Ed that the company he drives for -- B&B Trucking -- has changed all of the truckers' routes so that they now have to drive straight through Stuckeyville in order to avoid the new toll road. Ed tells the trucker that he's ruining everyone's life in Stuckeyville; the trucker says it's not his call, and that he's just doing his job. The trucker then leaves, and we see Phil sitting in the parking lot of the bowling alley selling beaded seat covers. Phil grins and says, "Where there's chaos, there's opportunity, baby!" Ed says, "I'm in..." as a truck passes by him. When the truck completely passes, he finishes his sentence, "...hell." Yeah, but at least you're getting paid major duckies for being there, Mr. Cavanagh. The rest of us only get an hour shaved off our lives this week.
The opening credits kick in, and Clem Snide whines about his moment in the sun. Yes, I know that Clem Snide is the name of a band and not a solo artist, thus "his" is not appropriate in the sentence. I use the word "his" to illustrate my genuine lack of caring for the band, the singer, and the songwriter, as well as their management, their record label, and their meandering website. And their sisters. I cannot stand their sisters.
We're thrown back down into the classrooms of Stuckeyville High, where Carol is still comforting Molly. This is what happens when you go several decades without a boyfriend, then finally get one, and learn that he's an old married man. Your friends are supposed to be there to comfort you. If Molly were on Friends, she'd have five friends to comfort her at the drop of a hat. Alas...she's on Ed, where she's lucky to have Carol comforting her. That is, when Carol isn't busy cramming her nose up the Jackass's ass. Molly says she still hasn't talked to Jim, and that she has the will of Lazarus about not breaking down. Which of course means that eventually Molly will break down and be with Jim again. My heart's a-flutterin'. Molly wonders aloud what Jim's wife is like; my guess is that she's an emotionally detached woman who's been wearing the same bathrobe non-stop for the last two years. Jackass interrupts the party and says he has good news. "You've had all the students' tongues surgically removed?" Molly asks hopefully. No such luck...the Jackass has signed up Rob Stanley to speak at the alumni banquet. The ladies seem somewhat excited, because apparently Rob Stanley is some big-deal writer guy. Kinda like me, except I'm not a "big-deal writer." I'm just a guy. Molly says, "Good going Dennis!" and Jackass stares at her. Molly says, "If Carol gets to call you 'Dennis,' so do I." Jackass says, "Fair enough," and leaves. Molly starts badgering Carol to give one of her amazing short stories to Rob Stanley. Carol can't do it because he's a "big fancy writer," which throws me for a loop, because I thought he was a "big-deal writer," which goes to show how much I know. Molly leaves the room, and Carol opens up one of her cabinets and stands there dreamily, imagining herself giving a short story to Rob Stanley and having him gush over what a great writer she is. And then probably having sex with her because that's what big-deal writers do -- they read teachers' short stories and then bang 'em 'til they're blue. Trust me. I know a few of them. And my ass is still blue from meeting them.
Ed, Nancy, Mike, and Evil Baby Sara in a stroller are strutting down the sidewalks of Stuckeyville as trucks run rampant on the streets. The noise is annoying and deafening. Sorta like a Sarah MacLachlan concert if she actually bothered to plug in an amp. Ed's bitching and moaning about all the trucks while Mike makes the keen observation that it's kinda like Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds, except with trucks. "The Trucks," Mike says. And technically, he's right. This situation is a lot like The Birds. Except there aren't any schoolchildren running terrified down the street with trucks latched on to their skulls, pecking their eyes out. The group runs into Amy Rubin, City Councilwoman and lonely town lesbian. Ed asks her what the town's going to do about all these trucks, and she says that they've hired a lawyer by the name of Barry Gleep to handle the situation and drive all the trucks out of town. Well...the drivers of the truck would actually be the ones physically driving the trucks out of town. Barry would just be the guy to make sure they do it. You know what I'm saying. I hope you do, anyway. Ed and Mike remember Barry from high school -- that he was a nice guy, but a complete pushover. Amy says that this is the Mayor's decision, and that Barry is the Mayor's godson, which explains why a nebbish pushover is handling the biggest case in Stuckeyville history. Meanwhile, Mike gets the attention of a trucker and yells "Gimme one!" while pulling down at an imaginary air horn. The trucker blasts his horn, which terrifies the Evil Baby Sara during a rare moment when she happened to be daydreaming and not plotting the death and destruction of billions of innocent people through thermonuclear warfare. Mike shrugs and says he's just making the best of a bad situation. I can relate, because I've been struggling with these blasted recaps for several weeks now without once getting another sexy dance from Miss Nancy to fuel my inner fire.
At the Goat, Carol's watching Jackass play pinball like a good little biker babe should do. Jackass asks her if "everything's okay, Zippy?" She's taken aback by the "Zippy" nickname; Jackass points out that he's trying to come up with an endearing and affectionate nickname for her. She seems about as impressed as the cast members of this show would be if they were ever to stumble across my misguided blatherings here. Carol says that "Zippy" is a chimp's name, so Jackass asks her if she has something on her mind..."Bubbles?" Carol says that's what Michael Jackson named his chimp. Jackass says that "Bubbles" is a great nickname, and that Jacko can't possibly "own" the nickname. I'm thinkin' that the guy owns the Beatles. He could probably scrounge up the duckies to purchase "Bubbles" as a name. He's good like that. ["Ah, but he's talking about selling off the Beatles catalogue because he lost money on his last album. If he does own the rights to the nickname 'Bubbles,' he's probably about ready to sell those off, too." -- Wing Chun] Carol has a favor to ask of the Jackass. Jackass says he can tell she wants him to give Rob Stanley a copy of one of her short stories to read and critique. She says no, she can do that herself. She's a modern-day liberated woman who makes grown-up decisions like getting involved with bad boys who fall just short of Adolf Hitler on the list of bad boys. No, Carol wants Jackass to read one of her stories. She wants to know what he thinks of her amazing chicken scratch. Jackass winces and says he's not the guy for the job because he's discerning on literature. Carol's not clear on that and he clarifies that he hates everything. Everything he reads, he hates. I can totally relate. There's not much out there that keeps me entertained in the world of literature unless it was written by a professional wrestler. My God, I could read the autobiographies of pro wrestlers until the cows came home. Those are some funny, funny bastards. Jackass admits that he hates Rob Stanley's work. Carol perseveres, and Jackass finally agrees to read her crap, but reminds her that he's going to hate it. He can't help himself. Carol squeals and is delusional over the fact that it's going to be her writing that changes Jackass's opinion on bad writing forever. Snort.
Ed drops by Barry Gleep's office. Barry's on the phone, trying to return a sweater because it was the wrong color. He's getting pushed around on the phone over a freakin' sweater, saying things like, "I guess I can live with Sierra Brown." My God. If Ed doesn't ask Barry for his lunch money, I'll be shocked. Ed says he hears Barry is taking on B&B Trucking. Barry says he is, and that if he wins this case, he'll be a big-shot lawyer in Stuckeyville. And that may be true, but he'll never-- and I mean never -- own a bowling alley, too. Ed asks how the case is going, and Barry proudly proclaims that he has a meeting with their lead counsel in three weeks. Ed about loses it. He says that traffic is at a standstill in Stuckeyville, and Barry has to have that meeting tomorrow. Barry says that's not possible, because the lead counsel is booked solid for the three weeks. Ed tells him to call the lead counsel and tell him that they will file an injunction and stop those trucks immediately if the lead counsel doesn't come to Stuckeyville the very day. Barry asks, if he sets up the meeting, will Ed come to it to make sure he doesn't screw it up? Jeez Louise. This guy is about as effective as a chastity belt on Madonna. Ed agrees to come to the meeting, then shakes Barry down for his lunch money and leaves.
Meanwhile, at the Stuckey Bowl, some truckers are sitting at the snack bar counter and ogling Shirley. One asks her if she knew he was a poet. Naturally, Shirley didn't. He asks her her name and she tells him. He makes up a poem on the spot. "Shirley Blue Eyes, pouring coffee. Shirley Blue Eyes, smooth as toffee." He asks what she thinks. Personally, I think he's like that...ummmm...that artist who used to pay for his meals with a hastily drawn piece of crap on a bar napkin. Was that Monet? Van Gogh? Warhol? I don't remember. Wing? ["Definitely Rembrandt." -- Wing Chun] Anyway, Shirley tells the trucker that the poem reminded her of the film Mickey Blue Eyes with Hugh Grant. The way he kept saying "forget about it" in the film...that alone displayed his pure acting genius to Shirley. It made her want to develop a crack habit and stand on a Hollywood street corner and wait for Hugh to come sweep her away from her life as a bowling-alley attendant and into the glamorous life of a Hollywood crack whore. At least until he ejaculated and pushed her out of a moving car into a West Hollywood gutter.
Over in a booth, Carol is babbling to Ed that Jackass doesn't want to read her stuff. Ed tells her that they must be careful in their relationship now. He gives Carol an analogy. Let's say Carol has two pairs of shoes. One brand-new and stiff...the other old and comfortable but covered in dog shit. Because the new ones hurt sometimes, Carol's tempted to keep wearing the old ones, but if she keeps wearing the old shoes, she'll never wear the new shoes. And Ed reeks of dog shit. Okay, that didn't really come up, but sometimes I'll bet he does.
Back at the counter of the snack bar, Phil approaches the truckers with his latest invention: the edible car air freshener. He starts chomping down on a pine tree air freshener, grins, and says, "That's a big 10-4 if I ever tasted one, good buddy!" For some reason, this didn't move me. It seemed to be a desperate cry for help from the writers to find something new for Phil to do. I'm at a loss myself to help them out, because I'm struggling enough just getting this recap written before my son comes bounding out here and wants to smear peanut butter and jelly on the computer keyboard for the rest of the day.
Molly comes home to her lonely abode, and her phone's ringing. She allows the answering machine to get it, and it's Jim, whining that he has to talk to her and that he's lonely and that he wants some sweet, sweet lovin'. Molly picks up the phone and says, "Stop calling me," then hangs it back up. She then stands there, a bit saddened by the way her life has turned out. She's Molly Homewrecker now. Wrecking homes with the greatest of ease. Need a home wrecked? Call Molly Hudson. She'll start nailing your husband on a regular basis until you're drinking heavily to forget that she ever came between you and him. That's 1-800-MOLLYISAHOMEWRECKER.
Commercials. Tommy Davidson is telling me my bitch ass has got to order myself one of these fiiiiiine assed P'zones from Pizza Hut.
Barry Gleep and Ed are in a meeting with the lead counsel of B&B Trucking. Barry's telling the lead counsel that it's very noisy in Stuckeyville now due to the recently increased usage of personal vibrators at the Hudson household. Plus all the trucks aren't helping any, either. The lead counsel says he can't do anything about Molly's problem, but promises that he's doing all he can to correct the truck situation. But altering their routes to go through Stuckeyville has saved the trucking company $120,000 a year. Barry asks if they can perhaps maybe...oh...I dunno...keep them out on the weekends? Ed snaps, "Barry!" and Barry jumps, then quietly assures Ed that he's opening up dialogue, which is something they teach you in Pre-Law 101. The lead counsel doesn't think the company would go for that. Barry asks if maybe they could at least not travel through the town on Sunday mornings? Lead Counsel Guy says he'll take that proposition back to the president of the company, but that he's not making any promises. The guy leaves, and Barry seems victorious in that he got the guy at least to look into ridding Stuckeyville of the neverending barrage of trucks for a few hours on Sunday morning. Ed's a bit peeved that Barry has the spine of an earthworm, so Barry tells Ed to take over the case while Barry suffers a panic attack. Ed tells Barry that he's going to be the one to handle the case, and that from here on out Barry's going to listen to Ed's advice and follow it to a T. The first thing Ed tells him to do is hand over his lunch money. Barry gives him a handful of change, and Ed gives him an Indian burn.
Carol saunters into Jackass's office, where he greets her, "What's up, Spanky?" Carol likes that one better than "Zippy." Carol's been thinking....which Jackass interupts, "I'm NOT reading your story." Carol starts whining about how important it is to her that Jackass read it and share his thoughts with her and that she'll do that one position that he really wants her to do in bed, you know...the one with the feathers coming out of her mouth while her feet are dangling from the ceiling fan. He finally agrees to read her manuscript o' shit, and immediately starts reading it. She freaks, not wanting him to read it while she stands there, so she scurries out of the office. Rather than throwing it in a desk drawer, Jackass actually begins reading it. It's probably the nicest gesture the Jackass has ever thrown her way.
Back at Barry's office, Barry notes that Mr. Ryan, the lead counsel guy, is late. Ed points out that Mr. Ryan always calls Barry "Barry," but Barry always calls him "Mr. Ryan." Barry promises to correct this and call Ryan "Sir Shittyhead of Shitalot," which, okay, Barry doesn't really, but if he had, man...my gut would still be busting over that one! Heh! Heh heh! Heh. Whatever. Ed's going over the last-minute instructions: use as few words as possible, and tell Ryan that the "Sunday Only" rule is unacceptable. Mr. Ryan shows up and says that he has good news: B&B Trucking has agreed not to clog up the streets of Stuckeyville on Sunday mornings. Barry says that won't work anymore. It's unacceptable. Mr. Ryan is taken aback, and tells Barry that he's throwing curve balls now. Barry stares Ryan dead in the eye and says, "It's unacceptable...Gus." Gus gets pissed, says he's outta there, and storms out of the office. Barry jumps up to run after him, and finds Gus standing in the hallway on his cell phone, saying, "Really? That's fantastic news!" He hangs up the cell phone and tells Barry that they found some extra savings at the company and now can offer Stuckeyville the entire weekend truck-free. Gus is going back to the home office and will have the paperwork delivered to Barry the day. Barry is ecstatic and asks Ed if he noticed how Gus folded like a cheap card table. Barry even thinks that the cell phone call was fake. Gee, Barry, you think so? What gave it away -- the fact that two seconds after he left your office, he was mid-conversation with somebody? This Barry Gleep is about as worthless as every single boss's son in the world. And toss in "godson" there as well -- I'm feeling extra ruthless this morning. Ed tells Barry that he's not going to be taking that deal, and that Ed will see Barry the day. Barry freaks out and chases Ed into the truck-congested streets of Stuckeyville. Barry's screaming that he's going to take the deal. Ed tells him no they're not. Barry says that they could lose the case and then there'd be trucks in Stuckeyville 24-7. Ed says that they could win, and then there wouldn't be any trucks at all, ever. Ed says the key is that they hope they don't have to take it all the way to court. Ed says that if Barry takes the deal, he'll go to Amy and have Barry removed from the case. Barry says he knows Ed, and that Ed wouldn't do that; he repeats that he's taking the deal. Ed asks for Barry's lunch money and Barry just gives Ed a blank check as Ed walks away into heavy traffic.
Back in Jackass's office, I'm starting to get the feeling the guy hardly ever leaves his chair. Carol walks in and says that they should pretend she never asked him to read the story, and that he won't have to read it. Jackass says he already read it and that he didn't hate it. He says there was actually a lot of good stuff in there. Carol grins and says, "Really?" and he admits that no...actually, he hated it. Carol doesn't grin and repeats, "Really?" a little less enthusiastically than the first time. Carol wants to know what Jackass hated about the story. He says the characters weren't defined as well as they could have been. She wants to know which characters, and he says the sister and mother, which I'm guessing are all of the characters. He doesn't see this criticism as being constructive in any way, but she does. She says she deserves his opinion. So Jackass tells Carol that her plot was clichéd and dull, the language was forced and precious, there was no particular style, and the story never evolved as a whole. I grin from ear to ear because I take this as yet another shout-out from the writers to me regarding my recaps. Carol's a bit overwhelmed by this parade of hatred and says, "Wow." She thanks Jackass for his honesty, and he tells her that it was a bad idea ever to ask his opinion; he asks if she's okay with this. She's still shell-shocked as she says, "Sure." (Which is a helluva tongue-twister I just concocted; my language may be forced and precious here, but I come up with a shitload more tongue-twisters in my recaps then those damned Ed writers could ever come up with in a season of episodes. In your face, scrubs!) Jackass asks if they're still on for a viewing of the videotape Mrs. Doubtfire later on, and she says, "You bet," as she walks out of the room like a zombie who was just forced to watch a barrel full of kittens being force-fed into a paper shredder.
Shirley steps into Ed's office to let him know that the woman from the tribal council is here to see him. Shirley obviously has the city councilwoman mixed up with Survivor host Jeff Probst, which is easy to do, since Probst resembles a staunch lesbian. Amy walks into the office and Ed tells her that she has to get rid of Barry on this whole trucking fiasco. Amy tells Ed that she knows all about the "no trucks on weekends" deal, and that she thinks that's a good enough deal for the town. Ed tells her he's convinced that if they fight the trucking company, they can win, and then there won't be any trucks in Stuckeyville. Amy tells Ed that if he loses this case, her political career is over, and that it's his taut, muscular ass on the line and not Barry's flabby pushover ass. As she leaves his office, Ed says, "I won't lose." Amy asks whether Ed's talking to her or to himself. Ed says neither -- he was talking to the television viewing audience and letting them know how the episode will end, thus allowing us all to change channels and hope to God there's an episode of Green Acres on somewhere. All except me, since I have to continue watching this gawdawful episode because I stupidly signed a contract, which sounded like a good idea back when I was strung out on drugs, to recap this show for a few Andrew Jacksons a week. So if any of you kids out there are thinking about taking up smoking marijuana as a hobby, think again. It only leads to pain, heartache, and lonely Saturday mornings of watching a video at painstakingly slow speeds just to let a couple hundred dweebs know the exact words uttered between a foolish teacher and her jackass principal boss. Bitter often, Uncle Bob? ["Yeah! Hey, you got a nice stein out of the deal, too, jerk!" -- Wing Chun]
Ahhhhh....commercials. A chance for me to refuel my mental bank. Apparently, Steven Spielberg doesn't have enough money, so he's re-releasing E.T. on an unsuspecting American public. That's just great. There's nothing I like more than going to a movie theater and sobbing hysterically because a puppet's dying. The first time I saw E.T., I took a date who never wanted to see me again because I couldn't stop that annoying crying where you can't even talk because you're hiccuping between words: "And...when E.T. was...dying...and looked...at Elliott...and...." My God. That movie totallyruined any chances I had of getting in Treva Whitfield's pants. Which is why, to this day, I think of Steven Spielberg as being a manipulative bastard whose sole purpose in life is to keep me from getting laid. Think about it: how many people bolted out of showings of Schindler's List all horny and ready for a romp in the sack?! My point exactly.
Back in Stuckeyville, Carol's telling Ed that Jackass didn't like her short story. Ed gives her another analogy: let's say Ed's a knight in shining armor who would read each of Carol's stories over and over again as long as she continued to hump him blind. And let's say Jackass is Satan. Who would she rather read her stories? Ed tells Carol she needs a thicker skin and to not let Jackass's obvious lack of common sense stand in the way of her giving her short story to Rob Stanley. Now she's torn as to whether to going to give the story to Stanley. I'm torn as to whether I give a shit. It's always about Carol. Carol, Carol, Carol. I'd leave in a huff and run to my room right now, but I still have thirty minutes of show to recap. Christ. This episode is moving slower than Rosie O'Donnell's metabolism.
Meanwhile, in Ed's office, Phil is conducting a chapel for the truck drivers. Ed's ticked about this, and Phil says that truckers need spirituality, too; they can't live on gas, grass, and ass alone. Ed wants the praying truckers out of his office immediately. Phil grudgingly walks in and says that this concludes their service for the day; he offers them each the opportunity to purchase a Jesus travel mug for their rigs. Barry Gleep walks in, and Ed invites Barry to step into his chapel. Ed apologizes to Barry for going to Amy and having him removed from the case -- that it wasn't easy, and business is business; it was nothing personal. Except for the fact that this guy has the lawyer skills of my sixteen-month-old son. Barry says it's okay because he wasn't fired; Ed's not handling the case, because the Mayor is Barry's godfather. Barry wants off the case, but that won't be happening. Barry and Ed will continue to work together on this case, with Ed as the puppet master and Barry the puppet who will carry out Ed's wishes and demands. Barry says that if Ed's wrong about winning this case, Barry is a dead man. Ed assures Barry that he's right. Barry looks at a Jesus travel mug and mistakes Jesus for Kris Kristofferson. This makes me giggle, because I get mistaken for Paul the Apostle on a daily basis. It's kinda funny, but I'm getting sick of being stalked by religious zealots everywhere I go.
Molly's walking down the hallways of the high school when Jim appears out of nowhere and starts begging her for a second chance. This guy is pretty persistent when it comes to talking to Molly. If he were half as persistent at making his marriage work, he could probably salvage it. Molly tells Jim to get out of the school at once, or she will kick his ass in front of the A/V squad. Meanwhile, the A/V Squad stands there, rooting for a major ass-whoopin' from one of their teachers. Jim leaves all mopey and shit.
Ed and Barry are walking down the sidewalk; Barry's admittedly nervous. Ed tells him to not be nervous, and to not be rational anymore. He says that it's more rational to be irrational. Barry's confused, but I don't blame him, because he appears to have mental capacity of driftwood. Ed tells Barry that if a guy walked up to Barry on the street waving a gun and telling Barry to give him his wallet, Barry would give the guy his wallet because he the gunman was being irrational. Sometimes you get what you want by being irrational. Point taken. I'm now convinced I need a gun. Ed catches Jackass walking into the pie shop and sends Barry off to get them some sodas while Ed goes to talk to Jackass.
Ed walks into the pie shop, goes up to Jackass, and asks to sit down. Jackass agrees and offers Ed parts of his newspaper. Ed declines the newspaper and gets straight to the point: Jackass's review of Carol's short story has knocked the wind out of her. Ed wants Jackass to convince Carol that she still needs to give her story to Rob Stanley in hopes that it may bore Stanley to the point of death. But in order to do that, she needs encouragement from the 'Ass. Jackass notes that Ed's quite a friend to Carol, and starts to ask if Ed ever nailed Carol. Ed finishes the sentence and says that no...he's never counted Carol's dingleberries or given her a Hot Karl. Jackass notes that there aren't too many men and women out there who have authentic friendly relationships, because the guy always ends up wanting to bag the woman. Jackass says Carol and Ed are the real thing, and that he could never have that kind of relationship with a woman, because he always pushes his friendly relationships with women into the sexual arena. Ed suggests that Jackass start hanging out with uglier women, and Jackass says he'll consider that. Ed catches Barry standing outside with their sodas, and leaves Jackass to finish reading his paper.
Back at Barry's office, Gus Ryan has shown up with the papers to sign to eliminate all trucks from Stuckeyville every weekend. Ed closes the office door, which kinda freaks Gus out a bit. Barry says he's not signing the papers, and that they're taking that deal back off the table because they're not comfortable with it. Gus gets flustered and says fine...the trucks will roll 24-7, he will take Barry to court, and Stuckeyville will be ass-deep in trucks. This pushes Barry into "Irrational Mode." Barry starts freaking out, saying he doesn't care, he has nothing to lose. If he does lose the case, he'll quit everything and throw a party, before going to Hawaii where he will snorkle his ass silly. He gets in Gus's face and says that if he doesn't hear from Gus by 8:00 that night, he's taking Gus to court. Barry goes to leave the office, and screams, "Yabba Dabba Doo!" before hauling ass, leaving Gus and Ed speechless and alone. "There's no talking to him when he's like this," Ed shrugs. No shit, Sherlock. Barry's violent outburst makes my wife's PMS look like a Sunday matinee of Annie.
Mike, Ed, and Barry are at the Goat, chortling over Barry's performance. Barry's somewhat proud of it, but still thinks they're going to be taken to court and lose the case. Mike's in such a good mood, he bets Ed ten bucks that he won't order a brandy. Barry says, "You guys still do that?" and Ed asks what else the bet entails. Mike says he has to say the word "brandy" twenty times in a row. Ed asks the bartender for a "brandy brandy brandy brandy brandy brandy brandy brandy brandy brandy brandy brandy brandy brandy brandy brandy brandy brandy brandy brandy with a twist." The bartender just stares. Mike laughs heartily, and the writers of the show gave each other high fives behind the scenes because they just wasted eight precious seconds of the lives of every single viewer of the show.
Carol and Molly are setting up decorations for the alumni dinner when Jackass busts all up in the how-wouse (Curses! The wrath of those damned P'zone commercials...). Jackass wants Carol to read something he wrote. It's called "My Life As A Critic." In this thrilling tale, Jackass admits that he thought Raiders of the Lost Ark would suck and never make money. He thought Wendy's would fail because nobody would want to eat square hamburgers. He thought Aquaman would last longer than Superman. He thought the greatest comedic genius to ever come out of Saturday Night Live would be Tim Kazurinsky. He thought that hiring a guy to act like a gang member wired on crank to hawk P'zones would be a good thing. As Carol reads these, Jackass asks her to put them in their proper context. Meaning he doesn't know jack shit about anything and that the notion that she should let his ramblings about her short story affect her psyche is ludicrous. Carol gets all warm and bubbly after reading this essay, and makes a mental note to hump Jackass blind, even if he really is Satan in disguise. Especially if he's Satan in disguise. This show's giving The Osbournes a run for its money in the Satanic-subtext department lately.
Back at the bowling alley, trucks are strewn all over the parking lot as Ed and Barry show up. Phil's outside offering the truckers a 10% discount on fuzzy dice if they'll all just leave. Ed recognizes this stance as a method of intimidating Barry into backing down. Barry about pisses his pants thinking he's about to be thrashed by dozens of angry truckers, but Ed assures him that all this means is that Gus Ryan has blinked. Blinked because he just got a dirt clod in his eye with the name "Barry F'n Gleep" written all over it.
At the alumni dinner, Carol asks the one and only Rob Stanley if she may get him a glass of water. You can tell it's a pretty swanky dinner when they're serving water in actual glasses. Stanley says sure, and then says that he's a bit worried because he's concocted a pretty boring speech to give tonight. Carol says that if he really wants to read something pretty boring, he needs to give her latest short story a gander, shoving the story in his hands. Stanley tells her that it would be a pleasure to read her painfully boring story, and Jackass grins from a distance, knowing that yet another man is going to have to suffer the wrath of Carol Vessey's misguided attempts at fiction and earn her scorn when he threatens to commit suicide halfway through reading the tripe. Or something.
Back at Ed's office, Ed and Barry are waiting for 8:00 to roll around so that Gus Ryan can call them, begging for them not to take the case to court because Barry Gleep is a pit bull of a lawyer and will rip Gus and B&B Trucking to shreds. I thought it was a bit presumptuous for them to be waiting in Ed's office, waiting for Ed's phone to ring when it was Barry's case, but hey...far be it from me to challenge the writers of Ed. If I even try, they have the power to waste an hour of my time by writing an episode revolving around Kenny's ass pimples, and they know it. As the clock ticks away, Ed and Barry start sweating it out. At 8:05, the phone rings; it's Amy the lesbian councilwoman, to whom Ed has to apologize profusely because it looks like they're going to have to go to court and lose this battle, meaning Stuckeyville will be a haven for truck stops, strip joints, drug dealers, and Chick Fil-As within a year's time. You can hear Amy screaming, "NO! No Chick-Fil-As!" as she hangs up. Ed apologizes to Barry and announces that, for once, he blew it. The phone rings again, and Ed answers it. Ed says the phone's for Barry. Barry's despondent until Ed says, "It's a guy named Gus Ryan." Barry momentarily flips out like Ed Grimley and then takes the phone and very calmly says, "Hello, Gus."
Back at the alumni dinner, Molly's telling a group of people that when she did a search for her name on the internet, she ran across a woman who had a pet gopher named Molly Hudson. Everyone laughs at the story, which I found funny because I would have quit listening to the story once Molly started it. Then again...maybe it was another shout-out to me! A search for her name on the internet....MAY have led her to me...and she was calling ME a pet gopher! Man! Can you believe the amount of shout-outs I've been receiving from the show lately? Me neither! I swear...this Zoloft I've been taking recently really points the shout-outs out to me! God bless antidepressants! Anyway, Jim shows up, which throws a dark cloud over the entire proceedings. Mainly because everyone's dressed to the nines and he waltzes in, wearing his usual bowling-alley repairman get-up. Molly walks over to Jim, grabs his arm, and marches him out of the room, saying he's finally crossed the line into Creepyville. Jim says that he's not giving up on Molly; he's not quitting. Molly says she'll give him thirty seconds to state his case, and that he should try to fit as many married-guy clichés into those thirty seconds as possible -- stuff like "I'm divorcing my wife" and "It was never supposed to be this way" and every other thing I've ever typed to a woman in a chat room. Jim just says three words: "I love you." Molly's a bit shaken up and asks, "Is that it? You still have fifteen seconds." Jim says he doesn't want fifteen seconds -- he wants the rest of their lives. I scrawl that one down on a slip of paper and make a mental note to use that the time I wander into #marriedandsingle. Molly walks away and heads back into the alumni dinner, where Rob Stanley is regaling everyone with his boring speech.
Stanley ends his speech with the best way to be a successful writer. Read nothing but good writing and remember it. Then forget where you remember it from. Carol pounds her leg and says, "Damn! Damn! Damn!" because she's never read anything good in her life. Mike walks over to Ed, who's standing at the bar. Mike proposes a toast to Ed, the master negotiator, for getting rid of those mother truckers out on the streets of Stuckeyville. Ed grins and says that nice guys finish last, meaning he had to be a real ass to get the trucks out of there. Carol walks up, and Ed asks if she gave the short story to Stanley. She says she did, and that everything's great between her and Jackass now. She kisses Ed on the cheek, thanks him, and then goes back to cuddle with Jackass. The men watch her walk away as Mike says, "What was it you just said? 'Nice guys finish first'? Somewhere in the middle? Oh, that's right, nice guys finish last." Ed just stares at Carol as she walks away, drowning himself in the pool of irony. As Dennis and Carol laugh and grope each other, Mike and Ed are left standing alone at the bar as the episode ends.
Thank God. Not a moment too soon. The only premise on Ed that's worse than a boring court case is a boring case that never makes it to court. There were only a scant number of humorous moments in this week's show, which is not a good thing -- it's a bad thing. The day Ed has to represent an oil company that's bathing baby ducklings in crude oil at Stuckeyville Pond is the day I fake my own death and never recap this show again.
Consider that a warning, NBC. I'm not playing around. Yabba dabba doo to you, too.