Shout-out to queengeek.
Adam's leaning against a locker, talking to Joan. Luke's sitting on the floor behind them, leaning against another locker. Adam tells Joan that her mom showed his work to the dean of the graphic arts department at State College, and the dean thought it was good enough for the professional program. Joan: "At least one of us has a future." Yeah. What sort of future can you expect, really, when all you've got going for you is a direct pipeline to God? There's frantic banging from within a locker and Luke says, "Locksmith's on his way, Friedman. Just hang in there." Heh. I so hope Grace put him in there. Friedman: "Dude, you said that five minutes ago when there was oxygen in here!" Adam points out that the night classes are $500 a credit. Joan: "They must have scholarships! You're brilliant! The dean guy even said so." Adam cites budget cuts and a lack of money for the arts. Friedman bangs some more, complaining, "Hello? I'm starting to cramp in here." Joan loses patience and kicks the locker, barking, "Friedmanstopcomplaining!" Some kid we've never seen before (who reminds me slightly of an older version of the kid -- Billy? -- from School of Rock who ends up as the costume designer; I think it's the voice) comes along handing out flyers, saying, "Elizabeth Goetzman…you loved her in Godspell. Now she's ready for the role of a lifetime!" He wanders off as a pathologically chipper blonde in a pink neckerchief (God, what an ugly word) with a plastic star pinned to her shirt comes along and implores them, "Hey, you guys, vote for me, or…I will die." Hmm. Seems like a pretty sweet deal: I don't have to do anything, and we get rid of you? Sign me up. Way to stimulate voter apathy. Adam and Joan have no idea what to say to any of those. Joan just gives her head a shake and tells Adam how sorry she is about his predicament. He shrugs: "I'll just have to wait around for college like everyone else."
Some more loudmouths come along, and Luke mutters, "Ah, the Neanderthals who did this," referring to the lockerization of Friedman. They seem to be the henchmen of some jock named Lars. They kill themselves laughing about Friedman and rip down some other candidate's poster. Lars weakly discourages them, saying that's enough. Joan glares at them, pissed, as they walk off. Further down the hall, she sees one of the maintenance guy Gods. I can't remember what I called this one. There are several janitorial/maintenance/groundskeeping/custodial staff Gods, and I can't keep them straight anymore. No, not even with a spreadsheet. Not without pictures, anyway. Somebody set up (or point me to) a Joan of Arcadia avatar website with screencaps, wouldja? That's a dear. We'll just call this one Locksmith God. Joan marches down the hall -- dude, what is that skirt she's wearing? It looks like some kind of duck print over plaid -- toward Locksmith God, who apologizes and tells her there was a "filing cabinet crisis in the biology lab." His uniform says "Carl." Which means "one who is strong." Joan gestures to the locker containing Friedman and asks, "So?" He tells her not to worry: "These lockers are surprisingly well-ventilated." Bummer. He hands her a sheaf of papers: "I think you dropped these." Joan takes them: "Oh, so the Supreme Being cares about student council elections? It's not like some kid is gonna invade a country!" Well, G.H.W. Bush's kid did. Locksmith God: "I care about anything that involves free will." Joan: "Most people exercise their free will by not voting." He tells her, "You have a chance to make a difference here." He drifts off with a two-fingered Godwave. Joan has her usual just-got-an-assignment-from-God expression. Somebody comes along and hands her a "Vote for Lars" button featuring Lars holding a football and staring heroically toward the fifty-yard line. (If that didn't make any sense, just rewrite it in your head and pretend I'm someone who knows or cares about football.) She looks bummed. Theme song.
Will arrives in a courtroom and sits down. Kevin, who was sitting at the back of the room, wheels up to his father and they start chatting about the dog poop case Kevin's covering. Will says he there's to testify -- i.e., sit around and wait. Kevin says that Will can help him with the profile he's working on about his new boss, Lucy Preston: "Care to toss me a few tidbits?" Will's expression grows dark: "All I know is she got rid of Roebuck." Kevin: "Whoa. Your voice just totally changed." Will: "What?" Kevin: "I went from 'son' to 'evil press guy' in, like, a second." Will apologizes, saying Roebuck's departure is still fresh. He makes an excuse about checking in with the Assistant District Attorney in order to escape. Man, there's somebody in this episode named "Steele Justiss." Whoever that is, I'll bet he did a movie with Buck Naked at some point.
Joan's sitting in the cafeteria with Judith on one side and Grace on the other. She looks at Elizabeth's craptastic promotional flyer, featuring pictures of Elizabeth inside a star shape. Joan asks, "Elizabeth Goetzman, what about her?" What about her, indeed? They glance over at her table, where she's standing and vogue-ing for her cronies. Man, I think you all know by know that I hate attention whores, but the drama club attention whore has to be just about my least favourite breed. Judith's comment is right on: "Needs elephant tranquilizers." Joan moves on to the dweeby poster: "Rick Jenkins." They look over at his table and Judith scrunches up her nose: "Acne factory." : "Brian Beaumont." His poster is text only, Courier font. Grace: "Isn't he the scuzzcrack who fired you from yearbook?" Joan, she of the bafflingly short memory: "Oh, yeah!" They watch him boring some classmates with his detailed political proposal. Judith: "Ugh. Is he kidding with the argyle? Oh God…pants riding up…argyle socks, too?" Still better than an orange sweater vest. Judith: "Oh, my eyes! My eyes!" Grace: "Why are you even thinking of this? Everyone knows it's going to be Lars Klosterman." She gestures to Lars's poster, a magic marker job with another football-holding pose, and the end of the football forming the O of the word "vote." We see him holding court at the jock's table. Judith drools: "Could he be any hotter?" Grace: "Please. Mr. Prom King is operating on, like, two brain cells." Judith: "And a whole lotta pheromones." Joan: "Ha ha." Grace persists: "Why the sudden involvement with the system, Girardi? Do you even know what student council does?" Joan: "Yeah, they planned Crazy Hair Day." Did anyone remember to tell Friedman it's over? Judith: "You could stop using conditioner and save yourself a lot of grief." Joan: "Look, someone's gonna win, and it's…it's gonna make a difference." Grace: "What, they're suddenly going to have the power to banish people?" Joan makes a weak argument about how every voice is different: "And when they're counted, it matters. Somehow." Yeah, now I'm convinced. Joan: "Don't ask so many questions." Grace: "Dude, you've been a cog in the machine too long. I am voting for E. Fudd like I do every year." She takes her tray and leaves.
Lucy is typing away on her laptop when Will comes in. Though it's still fairly steely, I can actually make out some colours in this scene that are not blue or grey. Did you know there's some red in the American flag? Rock on, Filter People. But now I need to kick some Hair People ass: What are you doing to Annie Potts's hair? It's not good, and in this episode, it only gets worse. Please, make it stop. She finishes her memo while Will looks at photos in her office. Of one, she says, "Sixth hole at Wade Hampton, par 3. Fabulous. St. Andrews, Scotland. You play?" Will, coldly: "If I could find the time." Lucy says she has to find the time: "It keeps me sane. But then, I don't have a family." Will has no intention of being affable: "You wanted something?" Lucy says she knows he and Roebuck were friends: "If I were you, I'd probably resent the hell out of me for taking his job." Will denies feeling that way. Lucy wants to explain her approach: "I'm a numbers person, organizational by nature." She describes her anal retentiveness regarding her doll's wardrobe at the age of eight. Will gives her a silent let's-get-on-with-this reaction. She's trying to make nice, but he's just not having it. She tells him she wants to start keep records only of incidents in which an arrest is made, rather than recording all criminal incidents. Will: "So our success rate goes up." He says he's a numbers person, too. He manages a very small smile. Lucy says she wants to show city council positive results. Will interrupts her: "And suddenly you're a genius and Roebuck looks incompetent." She replies, "No, it's just about presenting the stats in a more positive way so the city council will give us what we want." Can you just do that? Change the way you collect and present crime statistics? Will says he understands: "I just wouldn't feel…right about it." He starts to walk out and she says, "Don't make me pull rank, Will." He turns and looks at her as she adds, "I hate working that way." Will replies, "I'll keep that in mind," as he closes the door.
Luke and Grace are in a stairway at school. Grace: "Dude, your sister is looking to support the corrupt political system at Arcadia High which is totally symptomatic of the larger…" Luke: "Are we ever going to talk about your mom?" Grace looks at him, half-stunned, half-hurt, and says quietly, "No." Luke: "Grace, you IMed me that your mom is an alcoholic." Grace looks around like a cornered animal, but not that frantically. Luke says he knows she wants to talk about it. Grace doesn't say anything for a moment, but seems like she wants to. Then she says she just wanted him to know. Luke looks at her patiently. She grabs her bag and takes off.
Joan comes down another stairway and finds Adam sitting there, sketching. She sits down beside him and says, "Cool." Adam explains, "Yeah, Aaron, the lead singer of Manic Toolhead, asked me to do a drawing for their CD." It's a pencil drawing of musicians with -- yes -- tools for heads. It's actually kind of endearing, which -- just a guess -- is probably not what Manic Toolhead had in mind. Joan: "Wow, looks just like him -- if he was a screwdriver." Joan pulls a pamphlet for Arcadia Arts College out of his sketchbook: "This is the graphic arts program you were talking about." Adam keeps on sketching. Joan: "You've been working at that hotel for months. Haven't you saved anything?" Hey, way to be sensitive, Joan. In case you haven't noticed, Adam's dad wasn't exactly rolling in it before he got sick. The money Adam makes is probably hardly his own. Whereas you apparently spend your bookstore earnings on weird skirts. She adds, "Maybe they'd take a down payment." Adam dismisses that idea, saying his dad needs new glasses, and the sink leaks. He trails off, giving the impression that there's a lot of other things requiring funds they don't have.
Suddenly Brian comes up and says, "Hey, do you folks have a minute?" Joan narrows her eyes at him: "I'm not a 'folk.' My name is Joan. You fired me, remember, from the yearbook? Because you're a scuzzcrack." Adam gives Brian an obligatory dirty look, although I sort of suspect this is the first he's heard of it. I find it hard to believe that either Joan or Brian wouldn't remember the other; it's not like they didn't work together over a period of days, yell at each other, and so forth. It's not like either one's had an extreme makeover or anything. Brian could stand a session with the What Not To Wear crew, though. Brian, duly reminded, guesses she's not interested in reading his mission statement. Joan: "You have a mission statement? Hmph!" Brian: "Absolutely!" He stretches over the railing to look at Adam's sketch, and butt-kiss him: "Excellent draftsmanship, by the way. Philips head, right?" Adam: "Uh…yeah." Brian: "Excellent! I have got a six-point plan with key features like student tutoring, peer counseling, and a radical reexamination of standardized testing." He hands them two thick documents, and Joan flips through hers, wondering, "Are there Cliffs Notes for this?" Brian: "I trust you'll find it quite compelling. I know recent polls show me at 11% with Lars Klosterman running at 54%, but I'm optimistic [that] Arcadia voters want a candidate who's going to make a difference." He takes off after a couple of other girls who can't get away from him fast enough, but that last phrase caught Joan's attention.
Helen talks to her art class. The room is full of various bits of artsy weirdness. "Wow, I'm excited here. I asked you guys to stretch yourselves creatively and you did." She plans to display their work for the rest of the month so the whole school can see them. There's one piece that has the word "risk" in large letters lit up with flashing light bulbs. She comments on the "memory piece" of a girl named Gina, and then turns her attention to Adam's sculpture, The Lost Boy. "And Annie, you took the tragic death of your little sister's gerbil and you turned it into…well…" Annie supplies the name of her piece -- which is a dead gerbil dipped in shellac and mounted on top of its cage, along with various other gerbil accoutrements: "Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This." This phrase is stencilled on the outside of cage's metal tray. Helen: "Upsetting, ridiculous, and strangely sad." The student at the table puts up her hand and says, "I don't understand why it's art." Oy. Art is whatever anybody claims is art. Haven't we been over this? Helen apparently heard this from Darlene yesterday. Darlene says that it was a living creature: "You can't just dip it in shellac and use it like it's a thing." Annie, who's got a case of bitchface, although nothing on the order of Nicole Kidman's, asks, "What was I supposed to do? Not shellac it and let it rot?" Darlene: "I just mean that it's disrespectful…" Annie gives her a "Say what now, girl?" look. Darlene: "To life. It's…it's wrong." Helen says gently, "Well, you're entitled to your opinion. Thank you." The camera gives us a close-up of the gerbil, which is really pretty bloated for a gerbil. It's more the size of an anemic kitten.
Out in the hallway, Elizabeth Goetzman is handing out campaign flyers singing some song she made up to the tune of "America the Beautiful," which starts out "Arcadia the Beautiful / The school that we all love / From English class to drama club…" I knew it! Joan and Judith come along and she hands them flyers and interjects, "Hey there! Thanks so much for your vote -- it means oodles to me!" between two lines of the song. Professor Frink: "Her mother is a Texas beauty queen wanna-be." Joan's wearing some striped socks which weren't visible in her scene, I don't think. I probably wouldn't have noticed except that I keep trying to figure out what the hell is on her skirt -- pheasants? Judith balls up her flyer and pretends to stick in her finger in her throat as they pass. Joan glances back at Elizabeth and her geek chorus of drama club sycophants, all wearing straw hats, for God's sake, as they sing "Arcadia, Arcadia / You have to vote for me-e-e-e-e…" Oy vey. I hate to say it, but I'm with Judith. Somebody put a finger in Elizabeth's throat and leave it there.
Elsewhere, Lars is casually handing out candy bars, saying, "Vote for Lars…vote for Lars." That's quite a platform you've got there, Jocko. There are a couple of girls hanging around nearby looking googly-eyed. Judith comes along and he asks if she'd like a Lars Bar. Judith: "Oh, yeah!" Joan wants to know if he has a mission statement or anything. Judith can't conceal her glee at being inches from Lars and his Bars. Lars is all "mission statement?" Joan: "You know, like policies, or a philosophy?" Lars: "Look, this is student council, not…France." Well. He told you, Joan. Judith emits a phony laugh but knocks it off when she looks at Joan, who persists: "Yeah, but…you are planning on making things better, right?" Judith helps out, reminding Lars that he claimed he was going to replace the nasty snack machines by the gym. Lars: "Hey, you listened to my speech!" Judith: "Oh, you bet your buns, loverboy." Do any teenage girls actually talk like this? Do any women talk like this who aren't fifty, frowsy, and picking up old sailors at a bar near the pier? Joan points out that snack machines have little to do with real improvement. I'll bet Chewy'd beg to differ. Lars is indifferent: "Fine, don't vote for me." Lars takes off to spread the Lars Bars around to some other girls. Judith makes some pleading gestures to Joan, and Joan wearily gestures for Judith to chase after Lars.
As she stands there looking around, she notices Brian Beaumont talking to Lars's sycophants. Just then a cute hippie-ish kid with shoulder-length wavy blond hair and a peace sign T-shirt, carrying a guitar case, comes along. One viewer wrote to me to say he looks like the oldest Hanson brother, but frankly, I'm pleased to say I couldn't tell you anything about that one way or another. (This, by the way, is Steele Justiss.) Seeing the beating Brian's got coming, Joan mutters, "Oh, I can't watch. It's too horrible." Hippie kid says, "Multiply that by six billion and you'll know what I go through every day." Cool. God's really into teenage boys these days. I think this one might be the cutest one. Joan looks him over, and he gives her a shrug with various nuances in it. Then she's annoyed, gesturing to Lars's goons who are kicking sand at Brian's ninety-pound mission statement: "Can't you smite them or something? Look!" Hippie Boy God: "People don't need any help with the smiting." Joan: "Yeah, but…look! Those guys should have, like, claws, and little horns and pointy tails." Hippie Boy God: "I get it, Joan. Some people choose to be bullies, and others write mission statements." Lord, I hope those aren't my only two choices. Joan wonders if he wants her to support Brian. He just kind of glances downward and walks off with a Godwave. Joan: "A little more guidance, please?" Nothing. Joan: "No wonder people don't vote." She turns around and sees Brian picking up all his mission statements. Sighing, she walks over to help him, telling him, "If you really want to win, lose the argyle."
After the commercials, Joan's fallen asleep on the couch at home while reading Brian's mission statement. When the doorbell wakes her up, she shuffles over to the door in her jammies. Peering out the window, she sees that it's Adam. He comes in, wondering if he woke her. She lies and says he didn't. He says he just needed to talk about page 43 of Brian's mission statement. Joan says she drifted off after page 8. Adam explains that Brian has a proposal for a math/science program: "It pays for outside classes if you commit to working in a related field after graduation!" Joan wonders if Adam might not be kind of miserable teaching algebra. Adam: "No, no, no -- I'm talking about art, Jane! A program like this could pay for my classes! You know, Brian's sorta geeky, so -- so maybe he just didn't think about art…" Joan says to herself, barely audible: "He really is the one." Meaning Brian, not Adam. Well, I hope Adam's also "the one," but I think Joan's still undecided on that. Adam continues, "I mean, if something like this worked out, maybe I can make money from my art. You know, just quit the hotel! I -- I know I shouldn't get all stoked about something like this, but I -- I --" Joan suddenly stands up and hugs Adam tightly. He smiles and, when she pulls away, he asks what that was for. Joan puts her hands on each side of his head and says, "Because you're happy. I haven't seen you like this in a while." They kiss briefly. Frink's all, "'Take me now, Art Boy! I want my carpets cleaned!'" I'm all, "Shut up, if you know what's good for you." Then Adam says, "I should run. It's my night to shampoo the lobby." We kill ourselves laughing. Joan: "Yeah. Bummer." Adam: "Naw, it's okay. I'm gonna shampoo in concentric circles. Make op art you can walk on." He splits. Okay, I know I swoon about Adam a lot, but come on: look how far this kid has come. On top of being sweet and kind and sensitive and artistic and having beautiful hands, he's also hard-working, persistent, looks after his father, and has a good attitude.
Another shot of Shellacky the shiny gerbil. Principal Whatsisname -- what the hell is his name, anyway? It's been so long since we've seen him, I honestly can't even remember. We'll just call him Principal Hotness, since the TWoP search page isn't working at the moment. Anyway, he comes into Helen's classroom. She's there alone, and he says, "You're actually displaying a dead animal in your classroom?" Helen chortles and says it's a "conceptual art piece." You can see Darlene's piece in the background, and it looks like something somebody on Trading Spaces would come up with -- probably Kia or Frank -- only it's more technically proficient than either of those two could manage: it's a 3D thing. There's a chunky bright yellow vase mounted on a purple background, with colourful flowers sticking out of the vase, and three huge blossoms in pink, purple and green mounted around it. I'll bet you anything it's called Flower Power. Go, Darlene. It's a lot more Barbie's Dream House than Jeff Koons, let's put it that way. Principal Hotness regards Annie's piece, telling Helen, "Darlene Fitch's parents called the school. It's an affront to their religious beliefs." Helen: "What religious beliefs?" Principal Hotness: "Who knows?" Well, that might have been a question worth asking. Just because you're hot doesn't mean you don't have to do your job, you know. "Just put the thing away." Helen's incredulous: "You're ordering me to put away a student's artwork?" Principal Hotness: "A dead gerbil is art?" Helen: "Why not? Damien Hirst hung a dead cow in the Tate Modern." He replies, "Oh, so the time I run over a dog on my way to school, I'm Van Gogh?" Mmm, more like Antonio Becerra. Helen: "Do you often run over dogs on your way to school?" She manages to sound more genuinely concerned than merely sarcastic. He tells her to just get rid of it before they get sued. Helen: "You can't tell me what to display, just because it might offend someone. Sometimes art offends! If it didn't, we'd be left with clown paintings and Elvis on velvet!" Frink: "And Phil Collins." Helen's really worked up: "If they have a problem, tell Darlene's parents to call me!" She hustles out. Principal Hotness peers at Shellacky one last time before wandering out a different door.
Adam's taping a poster for Brian Beaumont onto a locker. It's a picture of Brian done in the style of Warhol's colourful silkscreen portraits, with the slogan "Making a difference for you!" Brian, who's wearing a richly printed tie with a plaid shirt, pronounces it "most excellent." They are far and away the best posters in the campaign. Joan asks, "So you'll find him an art scholarship?" Wow. Adam really got a whole lot better between "Cats Gone Wild!" and this. What'd that take? Like, a week? Brian says he doesn't really know anything about arts funding. Joan: "But you can find out, because you're the one who makes a difference. It says so right here…" Adam: "Jane, if he doesn't know…" Joan: "Eh-eh. Posters. Focus." She keeps Brian in her tractor beams as Adam walks off with the posters, bummed. Brian tells Joan, "Scholarship-wise, I just don't know if art is on anyone's radar anymore." Joan: "What? Look at those posters! Look! How can you say art isn't on anyone's radar? Look!" Adam's taping up a larger and even more boldly coloured version of his poster. Brian figures he could make a few calls. Joan: "That's right! Tell them you're El Presidente! Work it! Work it, Brian." Brian protests that he's not President. Joan assures him he will be. They start handing out flyers and exhorting people to vote for Beaumont. Behind them, Elizabeth von Yapp and her troupe of off-off-off-off-Broadway minions -- sans straw hats -- come singing down the stairway: "I'm Elizabeth Goetzman / I will represent Arcadia / and ever-y person / You will not regret if I'm elected Pres-i-dent…" If we vote for you, will you shut the hell up? Is that supposed to be "The Battle Hymn of the Republic" or what? I can't keep all these blinking American anthems straight. I hate anthems, and I diligently avoid all proceedings, from political rallies to sporting events, where I might be subjected to musical expressions of nationalistic fervor. Or any other expressions or outbreaks of nationalistic fervor. Einstein was wrong: nationalism isn't the measles of mankind, it's a cancer. Joan, not to be outdone, starts walking beside Elizabeth and improvising badly: "My Beaumont 'tis of thee / Sweet Presidente / He's got my vote / He's got the mission statement / It's forty-eight pages long…" They walk along, singing at the tops of their lungs and handing out flyers and it's excruciating and totally hilarious. Finally Joan and Elizabeth are right up in each other's grills, singing their heads off.
Will comes up to Kevin in the courtroom again and asks him if he hears any dirt on Lucy Preston while researching his story, to pass it along. Kevin smiles, curious: "What have you heard?" Will: "Nothing. It's just that she plays it so close to the vest, I just want to know who I'm dealing with." Kevin smirks and nods. Will: "What?" Kevin: "You've never asked me to help you with anything before." Will tells him to get used to it: "Because one day you'll be feeding me applesauce in a nursing home." He gives Kevin a friendly cuff on the neck as he takes off.
Joan campaigns: "I know this election seems really stupid and pointless and all the candidates seem like interchangeable idiots but --" Grace, Judith, and Adam walk up behind her as Grace, who's wearing her tiger T-shirt from Season One, asks Judith, "Are you sure she didn't get shock therapy over the summer?" Judith -- eating a Lars Bar, I believe -- says Joan signed up for arts and crafts. Adam, who's also wearing one of his Season One T-shirts, I think (the skeleton in the sombrero), gives her a quick kiss as they pass by and then catches up with Judith and Grace to defend her: "Hey, you know, she's really doing an amazing job. Brian's up in the polls." He walks off. Judith: "Another brain lost to love." You know, with all the interesting T-shirts worn by characters on this show -- especially Adam and Grace -- don't you think they could maybe work in a Glarkware T-shirt? A TWoP T-shirt would be too obvious, of course, but I could totally see Grace in this one, or this one, or definitely this one or even this one. (Hmmm…"Repent" might be a good shirt for Lily.) And Luke would be awesome in this one (which Frink has, and trust me when I say there is nothing in the universe more orange than this shirt, but I think Michael Welch can carry it off), or if you wanted to be more subtle, this one. For Friedman, I think this one is perfect. And since we know Adam enjoys a skeleton in a sombrero, how's this? Come on, where's the love? A Glarkware T would be the shout-out even Glark could not deny. I'm counting on you, Wardrobe People. Don't let me down.
Anyway. Grace stage-whispers to Joan, "Could you maybe do this with a bag over your head?" Joan comes over and declares, "I'm gonna change things around here, Grace." She notices Judith chomping away and asks, indignant, "Are you eating a Lars Bar?" Judith: "Keep your hair on. I'm only eating it for the chocolate. And the possibility of meaningless groping of the candidate." Joan notices Luke and Friedman walking nearby, and tries to get Luke to take a mission statement. Luke protests, saying, "Joan, you've already given me, like --" Joan snarls, "Take the damn thing! I'm creating a groundswell." Friedman: "'Methinks the lady doth protest too much.'" He glances significantly in Judith's direction. She says, "Friedman, tell me you're not actually memorizing Hamlet." Luke says he told Friedman that Judith was just joking about the date. See, I don't think she was joking; I don't think she knew him well enough to realize that he would totally try to do it. Friedman: "'In jest, truth is found, and found in truth, jest.'" You know, whether he does or doesn't manage the whole play, and whether she does or doesn't make good on her insane promise, one of the very real side effects of this whole thing is that for the rest of Friedman's life, everyone who deals with him is going to be subject to quotations from the play at every turn. And, you know, it could be worse, he could be quoting Howard the Duck or something, but it's still gonna grate. Friedman and Luke take off Judith tilts her head back and bangs it gently against her locker. Grace takes off with an unsympathetic glance.
As Luke and Friedman walk down the hall, Friedman says, "Act 2, Scene 3. Fire up those lips, baby." Grace has caught up with them now, and she says to Luke, "Talk to the freak, dude. This is humiliating, even for him." Luke: "Apparently I no longer have the language for it." Grace: "What exactly do you think Judith is gonna do when you've memorized Hamlet?" Ugh -- I just ate; do we have to hear the details of his seedy little imagination? Friedman: "'More things in heaven and earth,' Gracey-o, 'than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'" Just then one of Lars's buttheads snatches the mission statement out of Luke's hands and starts mocking it. Luke puts his head down and starts walking quickly, just like someone who's been through this a few times would. Moron #1 says, "Carrying this might not be too good for your health…" Grace lights into him: "You can't possibly be this much of a nimrod, right?" Luke pulls her by the arm and says, "Leave it alone, Grace." Moron #2 mocks him in a high-pitched voice: "'Leave it alone, Grace!'" Grace wrests her arm away from Luke and says, "They're not gonna do anything -- these losers have some archaic code where they'd never hit a girl." Moron #2, who just morphed into Asshole #2, snaps, "Yeah, as if you're a girl!" He pushes Grace into the wall -- hard. I'm all, "Holy shit!" Luke loses it and pushes Asshole #2 into the opposite wall as hard as he can, prompting Asshole #1 to throw Luke into the wall, where he falls down beside Grace, who stayed on the floor where she fell. The assholes take off and Luke sits there looking humiliated -- but not unaccustomed to the feeling. Grace, on the other hand, exhales, and lets her hand and knee fall against Luke's torso, and she says, smiling, "That was beautiful, dude." Luke laughs nervously and Grace giggles.
Helen comes into her classroom to find that Shellacky's gone. It hasn't done anything for Annie's bitchface. She asks, "Why'd they take it? You said they wouldn't take it." Helen's wondering what to do when a couple comes in; the man introduces himself and his wife as Craig and Teri Fitch. Darlene's with them, and he says he wants to explain why they had Principal Chadwick (that's the guy's name!) remove the dead animal. Helen asks them to discuss it privately out in the hall. As Adam eavesdrops by the door, Helen says, "You had my student's work removed without talking to me first?" Teri says, "A dead animal is not a student's work." Uh, yeah it is. Also, good casting; she looks like she could really be Darlene's mother. Craig: "In a culture of violence, do we need our schools sending out the message that death is a joke?" Helen: "And what message does censorship send?" That freedom of speech and expression is a joke? Darlene's father says he's not trying to shut down some art gallery: "This is a school, which my tax dollars fund." That's enough for Adam, who comes out and says, "Oh, so you get to decide what has value and what doesn't? You people are the reason why there's no money for the arts. Thanks, Darlene, really." Helen tells him that's enough and sends him back to the classroom. Helen tells the Fitches that they've made their position quite clear, and that she has a class to teach. Darlene looks bummed as her parents walk her away.
Outside, Joan's trying a new tack: "Beaumont! Beaumont, he's dressing better. Vote Beaumont." What the…? Someone walks past Joan and takes off something that is sort of the shape and has the fit of a football helmet, but has a face on it too, like a mask. The face is sort of doll-like. That is seriously weird. Judith comes out as Joan's assuring voters of the sartorial improvement Brian's achieved to tell her, "Save it, JoJo: No one's going to vote for a guy whose dad's in jail." Joan is startled: "What are you talking about?" Judith says the "Lars propaganda factory" is spreading that rumour. Joan says that can't be true. Judith asks what it matters whether it's true if every kid in school thinks it is. Joan: "Well, it just does…doesn't it?" Judith does a poor imitation of James Caan: "Look, this is war. You're not a wartime consiglieri, JoJo." Joan raises her eyebrow at Judith, who explains she's been watching The Godfather on cable. She offers to buy Joan a Lars Bar. Joan, looking quite pale, takes off, saying she can't. Judith shrugs.
Cut to Brian…uh, taking a leak and zipping up his pants in the boys' bathroom, which is yellow, and combined with the yellow filter factor, is the most uriney yellow room you've ever seen. Joan bursts in (hey, how'd she know he was in there?), shouting, "They're lying about you!" Brian, still struggling with his zipper, keeps his back turned and talks over his shoulder, pointing out that this is the men's room. Joan: "I don't have time for gender issues, Brian! They're trying to smear you. They're spreading crazy lies about your dad!" Brian already knows. A young boy comes in to use the washroom. Joan turns and barks at him: "Hey! We're holding a cabinet meeting here!" He flees in terror. Joan puts one hand up on the wall to brace herself. Ew! Joan! Don't do that. She asks what he's going to do. Brian says, "Nothing." Joan sighs, exasperated. He tells her it's not a lie; his dad's in jail for theft. Joan: "Your dad? Really?" Apparently Brian rarely sees him; he's a deadbeat who only comes around for money. Brian says someone broke into his school records and found out. Brian says he'll quit now that everyone knows. Joan rejects that. Brian says when he told his mother that everyone knew, she cried about having ruined his life. Just then the boy who wants to use the washroom comes running back in. Joan: "Do you mind?" He does a minor pee-pee dance and says he really has to pee. Joan points: "Use the bushes!" Hee. Or maybe she meant "the Bushes." He whimpers and flees again. Joan tells Brian forcefully that he can't quit: "I mean, I don't even like you, and I still know that we need you! If you quit, they'll win!" Brian looks at himself in the mirror and asks her, "You really believe in me, huh?" Joan: "Yeah, yeah, I guess I do. And I also believe that it's our mission to throw some dirt right back at them!" She marches out and then stops, takes a look around and big sniff, and comments, "Ugh, boys are animals." You have two brothers, Joan. This can't be news. The camera lingers on a Lars campaign poster, with the warning "Touch + Die" scrawled in magic marker above it.
As Joan walks into school the day, she sees Hippie Boy God sitting against a tree trunk and playing the guitar (an electric bass). "Shouldn't you be playing the violin?" Hippie Boy God's all, "Huh?" Joan: "Violin. Fiddling while Rome burns. Didn't you take history?" He replies, "I created history." Joan: "How can you just sit here and rock out? Everybody in school knows about Brian's dad." Hippie Boy God: "Some people do whatever it takes to win." Joan's instantly defensive: "You think I'm not trying? You think I don't want to win? What else am I supposed to do?" She storms off and God goes back to his fingerwork.
In the cafeteria, Brian hands out his flyers. Luke, Grace, and Joan are watching him from their table. Grace and Luke have a chair between them. Luke comments, "We need Brobdingnagian." Grace glances at him, but in a way that doesn't betray whether or not she knows what he's talking about. Joan, not so much. Her raised eyebrow makes it obvious she doesn't know what he's driving at. Luke explains, "Huge. The latest polls don't look good." Joan thinks she just needs to dig up some dirt on Lars: "Whatever it takes. It's the only way to beat these guys." Grace: "A horse's head always works." Joan: "I thought you were the poster girl for apathy." I beg to differ. Just because someone doesn't want to work within the prevailing, screwed-up system doesn't make her apathetic. Luke remarks, "She was hit by a wave of school spirit." Heh. Joan: "And she told you?" Grace quickly takes a drink of her big ol' coffee to hide her expression, and Luke's eyes shift nervously as he says, "I gleaned it." Joan gives Grace a suspicious look but Grace isn't looking at her. Grace is very definitely not looking at her. Oh, Joanie, how long will it take you? I can't wait until she finds out. Or figures it out. I don't know which one would be better. In a way I kind of hope she's the last to know. Before Joan can follow her Spidey-sense up the gangplank of the S.S. Atomic Punk (tm queengeek), Judith -- and Friedman -- come zipping up. She says, "I think I have something." Friedman: "Yes, something is rotten in the state of Denmark." She tells Friedman to get a grip and then explains "the dealio" (really) to Joan: "No secret I've been hanging around Lars…God, he was wearing those low pants, tight Ts…" Grace rolls her eyes, weary. "Anyway, I saw him walk into the…school counsellor's office." Oh, golly, Nancy Drew. you'll tell us you saw him speaking to Principal Hotness. Joan points out, "Hello? We go to the school counsellor." Judith: "Because they make us, after crazy camp. No one'll ever voluntarily see Mr. Dingle." Grace: "Trouble in paradise." Judith thinks maybe he's addicted to pain killers. Joan's idea: "Steroid abuse." Grace: "Can't spell his name." They look up in time to see Brian get shoved by some big galoot. Joan: "Look, we have to find out. This is about good and evil." Brian sits down at the table, looking tired. Joan points in his direction: "And good is gonna kick ass."
Helen comes into Principal Hotness's office, probably to speak to him. But no one's there -- well, no one except Shellacky. She hesitates, but then decides to take the artwork. Of course, she knocks Shellacky off his cage-top perch when she does, so she picks him up with some distaste, dumps him in the cage, and absconds with it.
At the courthouse, Kevin -- dressed in yet another blue shirt, as he has been in every scene -- tells his father that he's really only heard good things about Lucy: "Graduated summa cum laude from Annapolis, joined the police academy after her father's death in 1984…again, head of her class…" Will asks about her stint in New Orleans: "That place has been corrupt for years." Kevin says she received a commendation from the city: "What is it about her? You having trouble working for a woman?" Hee. Will: "What? No. She's just slid into Roebuck's job so easy, and now she's trying to change the way we do business…" Kevin notices her coming down the hall with a bunch of files and an even bigger smile. And the worst hairstyle yet. I think her hair is just too curly for what they're trying to do with it. Will follows Kevin's eyes and turns. She walks up to Kevin, extending her hand: "Hi…Lucy Preston. You must be Will's son." Kevin introduces himself and she says it's a pleasure. She hands him the files, saying, "It's all here, indexed and alphabetized. News clippings, commendations, recommendations, job assessments… One guy trashed me but I think it's only because I crushed him at golf. I've also included the name and phone number of my last boyfriend, who I'm still on good terms with if you want to get into the personal side of things, and if there's anything else that you'd like, just…" She looks at Will: "Ask." Will's sheepish: "We were just talking. He's doing research for the paper." She replies, "If I was in your position, I would have made the same call, Will. If we trusted everybody, we'd be lousy cops, wouldn't we?" Will stares down at her and barely nods. She asks, "Aren't you testifying?" He says he was just on his way in. She says she'll see him back at the office, and tells Kevin she looks forward to his article: "Maybe you can make me sound tall." Kevin nods but doesn't smile. She smiles and takes off. Yeah, Will and Kevin are both thoroughly intimidated.
Annie's putting Shellacky back as Darlene comes into the classroom, looking dismayed to see the piece back again. Helen comes over to tell Darlene she discussed the issue with the board, and they agreed with her that "it's unacceptable to censor students in the classroom, so Annie's piece will be displayed here all week." She tells Darlene that if she's offended, she can spend class in the library. Darlene replies, "I just came here to tell you that I'm dropping art. You're always saying that it's important to listen, but you didn't. You just treated me and my parents like we were idiots." Uh, when was this? I agree that she didn't engage in lengthy dialogue with them, but the Fitches went around Helen, too, instead of approaching her directly. And I didn't see anyone treating anyone like "idiots." Helen: "Oh, Darlene, I didn't --" Darlene: "I used to want to be an artist. I guess I'm not allowed in the club." Oh, God. Grow the hell up. What a petulant, immature, silly response. She takes Flower Power and flounces out. Yeesh. Man, if she can't hack the minimal level of offense and controversy in this class, then it's a good thing if she gets out right now. I don't think art has to necessarily offend, but good grief, some of it's sure going to. Deal. Helen, stunned, stares at Darlene's empty easel, and commences beating herself up.
Joan and Judith are walking through the halls plotting to find something on Lars. Judith suggests breaking into the counsellor's office after school to read his file. Joan thinks that's a little unethical. Judith: "Fine. Michael Corleone thought he was above it all, too." Joan frets: "I just don't know." Judith wants to know of an ethical way to get dirt. They see him down the hallway, and Joan's inspired: "We should follow him!" Judith: "Oh, highly ethical. I hear Mother Teresa used to tail people all the time." Hee. Isn't Judith already dogging his low-rise-pant-clad ass all over the place, anyway? They stop and turn away, trying to look casual, until Lars starts walking. When he does, they start after him. Joan: "At least we won't have to share a cell with Brian's dad." Sneaking along the halls and in and out of doorways, they follow him to his locker, where he takes out a large mirror and primps. Judith: "He's so in love with himself." Joan: "So this is what the popular kids do with their free time!" Judith whips out her phone and takes a picture. (There's a sentence I couldn't have written a few years ago.) Frink, always on the tech watch: "That's an expensive phone." I remind him her parents are both shrinks. Judith gloats, "The devil's in the details," as she snaps a picture of Lars picking his teeth.
they spy on him while he buys a sandwich from a vending machine. Judith takes another picture. Do you really want someone who'd eat a vending machine sandwich running your student body? I should think not. If you look carefully, when he pulls the change out of his pocket, there seems to be a little white pill in his palm, too. It seems like he picks up the pill with his right hand but then we don't see any more of it. It's possible he took it just before eating the sandwich; lots of medication has to be taken with food. Or maybe it's just a Tic-Tac. Do you really want someone who'd eat a pill or a Tic-Tac out of his linty pocket running your student body?
Lars is in a chemistry lab . There are lots of bottles and beakers full of bright, colourful liquids. Uh-oh, here comes one of Frink's pet peeves about "science" scenes in TV and movies: "What's in those bottles? That's so highly unlikely. Most things you use in the chemistry lab are clear. You don't get a whole gay rainbow of colours." From the Never Took Chemistry side of the couch: "But this is prettier." All I get is a derisive snort. I surmise that maybe the people who tend to go into set design and prop management didn't take a whole lot of chemistry. Frink: "Chah, I guess not." Anyway, he's in class, and Joan and Judith are peering through Venetian blinds at him when his cell phone rings. Judith says, "He gets a call like that about five times a day." "A call like that"? What does that mean? How can she tell? I can't believe she could identify a ring tone from the other side of the window they're on, even if she's been hanging around him enough to learn he has different ring tones. Anyway, she thinks it's either his girlfriend or his dealer. He takes off to meet someone.
Outside, he walks through a big sandy playing area below a parking lot. Judith and Joan are sneaking around above him in the parking lot. Well, they're sneaking as much as anyone can sneak, wearing those noisy beaded scarves that Judith and Joan favour this year. Lars walks into a doorway where there's a guy standing and waiting. They talk for a moment and Joan tells Judith, "That's Teddy Marks. Total drug dealer." Judith: "Okay. Hand over the drugs." She's got her phone ready. As they watch, waiting for the deal to go down, Lars puts his hand on the side of Teddy's head and says, "I missed you." He pulls Teddy toward him and Joan and Judith watch in shock as they kiss. Judith's not too shocked to get the picture, though. Those of you who can't get enough HoYay! will be disappointed to hear that the camera is focused on the tiny image of Lars and Teddy on Judith's display screen, rather than the larger actual image of the boys. Judith takes the picture and when the camera beeps, the boys separate, startled, and look up: "Whoa!" Joan and Judith panic and run as Lars stares at them, wide-eyed. ["Aw. And I love him! I love my Dead Gay Colin!" -- Sars] Teddy runs off, too.
Oh, God, enough with the Star Jones Payless commercials. No way Miss Thing wears plastic shoes. And what the hell happened to the other half of her? I've been so gobsmacked by her altered appearance that I was forced to tune into The View the other day -- a show I can't stand and haven't watched for years -- just to get a better look at her. My God, she seemed…so very enervated. Like some sad balloon you find shrivelled up behind the La-Z-Boy three days after a party. I mean, she was annoying as crap before, and I'm not arguing that her weight was healthy, but at least she seemed to have a spark of life in her. I don't know if she had her stomach stapled or whatever, but I do know one thing: the thread about her on Fametracker is one of the funniest damn things you'll ever read.
The day, Joan and Judith are moving through the cafeteria line; Judith's looking at her video -- she made a video, not just a picture -- of the Lars/Teddy kiss, and mourning Lars's gayosity: "His hair…his arms…I even liked his ears. He was gonna be my New Year's resolution." I get the feeling Judith's watched this video more than a few times. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Joan: "Guess you're gonna have to fall back on calling your grandma more often. Look, we need to focus!" God, I can't believe Joan is even considering outing Lars, particularly as a campaign strategy. Is this the same Joan who stood up to those homophobic bitches last year when they were slagging Grace? If Grace knew Joan were even considering this, I think it would be the end of their friendship. Hell, she might even dump Luke for guilt by association. Judith suggests mass IMing of the video. Joan dismisses that as "too techie," although at first I thought she said "too tacky." Judith: "Right. We have to weaponize the information into the most lethal form possible. Maybe we go simple: the rumour?" Joan thinks Lars would just deny it: "And if people think we made it up, we could get some serious blowback." Judith: "We're pretty much destroying a guy by pandering to homophobic bigots. Isn't blowback a risk we're going to have to take?" Joan graciously pays for Judith's lunch, too. Judith thanks her. Joan says they need cover: "If things go bad, we need plausible deniability. Wow. Who knew Social Studies would come in so handy?" Judith has a brainstorm, if by "has a brainstorm" you mean "comes up with a completely obvious idea." She suggests anonymous flyers with a picture from her video. Joan gasps, "We are so good at this!" Yeah, I'll bet the Bush administration could use a couple of bright lights like you. Judith agrees: "Yeah, we are."
On a stairway, some Larsian goof is drawing prison bars over Brian's face on a poster. He runs down the stairs, where a crony is doing the same thing. Close your eyes and listen to the soft hooting and giggling. You'd swear you were listening to monkeys. Adam rounds the stairway and sees the first chimp defacing a poster and busts on him: "Hey! Hey! Don't mess with my artwork, man!" He pushes the guy away from the poster. The other chimp cackles, "Do you wanna die?" Adam: "What, it's not enough you talk trash about his family? What, you don't get a big enough charge out of that, huh?" Chimp #1 grabs Adam and starts shoving him around, but luckily for Adam, just then Lars comes along and yells, "Hey! Hey! Forget it." His obedient goons called off, he pulls them down the stairs and they all walk away. Wow. You don't get to see Adam that pissed very often. Brian's there and he says "hey" to Adam, who doesn't say anything. He just rips down the defaced posters and crumples them up.
Luke and Grace are putting up more posters elsewhere. Man, she is discombobulated, if she's taping up campaign posters. She really wants Lars to lose. Luke: "You know, statistically, this last campaign thrust has less than a 13% chance of success." Grace: "You realize I don't understand half of what you say." Hee! That is so me and Frink. Save your breath, Grace. Geeks figure if they keep talking you'll eventually understand. Luke sighs: "Right." He goes back to taping, while she decides -- here in the school hallway, which I find slightly surprising -- to open up some more: "When I was eleven, my friend Becky Coogan slept over. We went downstairs in the morning for breakfast. My mom was going to make us pancakes." She has Luke's complete attention as she continues, "She was still passed out on the kitchen floor from the night before. Becky never talked to me after that." Luke doesn't say anything. He's learning that the less he pushes, the more Grace trusts him. She adds, "Becky was cool." Heh. "You would've liked her." Luke doesn't say anything. They go back to postering.
"O beautiful Arcadia…" Oh God, help me. The insufferable Elizabeth and her straw-hatted mob of dweebs are singing away in the halls. Lars and Brian are campaigning heavily. It's election day. Joan and Judith are walking through the hall, disgusted by all the defaced posters for their candidate. Brian's having trouble getting anyone to pay any attention to him. Joan, Judith, and Luke all converge near Brian, as Luke shows his sister a defaced poster and asks, "Have you seen these?" Joan tells him to put new ones over the spoiled ones. He takes off. Brian asks if there's any news on "nuking Klosterman." Judith tells him, "The missiles are in the silos. We're just waiting for the launch codes." He wants to know what they found. Joan tells him "all in good time" and advises him to help Luke with the posters while she gets some pink paper from the art department.
Will comes into Lucy's office: "The picture of you with the Governor…very impressive." Lucy: "That was a long evening. That man can't talk about anything but himself." Will closes the door and tells her he's thought it over but he's just not comfortable with changing the stats: "And I'm prepared to take the consequences if you can't handle that." Lucy: "Even if the consequences are that Detective Carlisle will be laid off?" Oh, not Chewy! What about all the families who depend on the proceeds of the Arcadia Police Department vending machines? Will's all, "What?" Lucy says he has the least seniority and the force has serious cash flow problems. Will says every department does. Then she reminds him about some cop named Harriman who got shot and killed -- Will was the one who had to inform his wife -- and how they should have had another car available but they didn't: "This is not about buffing my image. I don't want to be like the other departments. I want the money. And if looking at the data a little differently helps us to get that…then I think we owe that to Harriman and Carlisle and everybody else we work with." Will nods: "You like dealing with things on your own terms, don't you?" Well, duh. Who doesn't? She smiles: "That's how I get things done. And that's what they pay me for, isn't it?" She has to take a call, so Will leaves. Frankly, I'm not entirely convinced he doesn't have at least a small problem with the fact that she's female. Also, I kind of like her, but I'm not sure whether to bother liking her, since what are the odds she'll last?
Joan comes into Helen's classroom, where Helen's sitting at her desk brooding, to ask for some pink paper. Helen asks her how the campaign's going, as Joan gets a load of Shellacky and says, "Ew." She tells her mother, "I'm going to destroy Lars Klosterman, but Brian will win." Helen: "You have to destroy Lars to do it?" Joan, almost robotically: "There are no victories without casualties. The important thing is to win." Helen thinks to herself, wondering when her daughter's body was invaded by Donald Rumsfeld. Joan: "Mom, the paper?" Helen: "Well, what's 'winning'?" Joan: "When you get your way and the other people don't. May I please have the paper?" Helen just stands at the cabinet, silent, motionless. Joan asks if she's okay: "You look inches away from waterworks." Helen turns around and says, "Darlene Fitch quit art today." And the art world cheered. "Because of me. And, uh, that stupid gerbil." Joan: "Freaky. I'm sorry." Helen: "I was so obsessed with being right, with getting my own way. It wasn't that I wanted to hurt her; I didn't even think about her. This righteous feeling came over me and she was in my way. She's a sweet, decent person and I hurt her in a way that she will probably never forget." Joan gets the moral lesson, though frankly I think it applies a lot more to Joan's situation than Helen's. And even though she's not going to out Lars after all, and I was 99.9% certain she wouldn't, I'm still annoyed that she was written as having considered it.
Out in the hall, one of Lars's goons punches Brian and spits, "Bite me!" as he passes him campaigning in the hall. Joan walks up and tells them she's calling the whole thing off. Brian: "The missiles are in the silos! Why is Lars seeing the school counsellor?" Judith: "What's up, JoJo?" Joan pulls Judith aside and says, "We can't. Not even to Lars." Judith argues, "It's a slam-dunk. Look what he did to Brian!" Joan counters, "Would you want someone spreading around your crazy camp file, even if it was true? Don't you want the chance to work that stuff out yourself?" Judith asks her what happened. Joan: "I just saw it! What we were about to do…what were we thinking?" Brian comes over and demands to know what's going on. Joan turns and looks at Lars; she catches his eye, and he looks at her, obviously concerned that she may still blow his cover. Brian: "Come on, what have you got?" Joan claims Lars wants to join the Peace Corps. Oh, good lie. Brian's mystified. Joan elaborates that he's worried his friends will think he's a doofus. Brian wonders how Joan could think joining the Peace Corps is a bad thing. Joan apologizes, but Brian's really mad: "I was counting on you! You told me not to quit! Now this loss is gonna be on my college record." What? Really? Good grief. Will it make a note of the time he accidentally wet his pants in kindergarten, too? Joan: "I really loved your mission statement. I'm all the way up to page 18!" Judith suddenly has an idea: "At least give me one thing."
shot is someone in a locker, banging to get out. The Misfit Posse (minus Joan and Adam) is standing around outside it, and Judith coos, "What's the magic words, Lars?" He says, "Okay, I get it: locker bad. This is so not funny anymore!" Grace says she could stand there for hours. Luke wants to know how Judith did this. Friedman: "'You have held as 't'were the mirror up to nature, where it sees reflected' -- this is really cool, Judith, okay? This is really -- wow!" Lars keeps banging and saying he's sorry. Now could someone please stuff Elizabeth in a locker -- preferably one of the half-size ones?
Up the hallway, Joan's watching at her locker. Locksmith God comes along and remarks, "Mankind lives in a prison of its own making -- but you always call on me for the keys." Joan says, "I couldn't do it…I couldn't win that way." Locksmith God: "Yeah. It's amazing how many people could've." Joan: "So Lars is gonna win?" "Landslide." Joan: "I drove myself crazy for nothing!" Locksmith God tells her, "You were involved, Joan! That always makes a difference."
Joan plops a foil container of cake down in front of her mother in their kitchen. They're both in their nightclothes. Helen says, "Just a bite." Joan: "Mom. We're bummed. We're eating the whole thing." Helen: "D'ya wanna maybe have chocolate sauce and ice cream, too?" Joan: "No point without it." She gets those things as her mother tells her Darlene cried as she apologized, but won't return to class: "God, I was hoping there was some way to undo it all. I was such a jerk." Joan dishes out ice cream as she says, "Yeah? You weren't alone." Helen points out Brian lost the election: "So you didn't destroy Lars. That makes one of us a decent person." Erm. A decent person wouldn't have considered what Joan considered. Joan thinks as she squirts chocolate sauce all over her cake and ice cream: "I had it in me to do it. I felt it." Helen suddenly stops worrying about Darlene "Bambi" Fitch for a minute and starts paying attention to her own daughter: "What were you gonna do?"
Joan puts her utensil down and scratches her forehead, and finally tells her mother, "Lars is…gay." Helen: "And you were gonna use that to…" Joan: "Mom, it would have been so easy…" Helen seems troubled. Joan: "But then…in my head, I kept seeing him, looking at me…so scared, you know? Big, strong Lars, scared and confused. And I've been there, like…like all the time." Her tone is heartbreaking. Helen takes that in, realizing she's not fully aware of Joan's pain. Joan continues, "And it was like we weren't really different people, 'cause…someplace we aren't." Helen takes her hand. Joan: "Why is that so hard to remember?" Okay, now I'm crying. And the teabag is smirking at me. Helen: "I don't know." Joan admits she didn't care for losing: "Being involved was supposed to make a difference, and…I don't really see how." You don't always get to see how. You don't even usually get to see how. That's the irritating thing about faith. Well, one of the irritating things. Helen: "Oh, well…you need more chocolate sauce. And so do I." She loads it on. They sit quietly for a moment and then there's a knock at the kitchen door. Joan gasps and whispers: "It's Darlene. She's come to kill you and dip you in shellac." As Joan goes to the door, Helen smirks and says, "I'm eating your half."
Joan pulls the curtain aside to see Adam's face. She opens the door and he says, "I got it." Joan: "What?" Adam: "An internship at this graphic design studio." Joan hands fly to her face and her eyes widen. "Brian found a mentoring program and then he set up an interview. And they called me at work. All I had was that flyer that I made for Brian, and they loved it." Joan squees softly: "Oh my God!" Adam takes her hands and exults, "And this guy's so cool, Jane! He had me help him out with this ad layout right away, and I mean, it was just colouring in stuff, but…they're gonna pay me just as much as the hotel." Joan: "Really?" "For doing something I love. It's…" He's practically hyperventilating. Frink: "Hyperventilating Adam is good." Can't argue. I haven't seen him this happy since "Jump." Adam: "I just -- I just need to give you a hug." Joan says okay as they embrace happily and Joan says, "Congratulations! I'm so happy for you!" The camera draws back so we can see Helen smiling to herself at the table as Joan and Adam hug. If listening to loudmouthed teenage attention whores sing horrible revamped anthems is what it takes to see Adam happy…bring it on.