Luke, Joan, and Grace are walking through the hall at school. Grace is haranguing Luke about his decision to get his driver's license. Great. Just what I need. It takes me nearly forty years to get around to getting my damn driver's license -- my road test is on February 7 -- and as if I don't already feel like I'm selling out to the Man and swimming in rivers of Iraqi blood, I have to have Grace's input on the matter: "Dude, you're contributing to global warming -- and you're handing over vital information to the CIA. When they take that picture? That's really a retinal scan." Oy. Mind you, Frink's wanted to convert our Golf to biodiesel for ages, and now that I have a rusty fifteen-year-old heap of my own, I guess we can sacrifice the trunk space and rack up some environmental brownie points. Joan walks between them, apathetically flapping her mittens in her face. Luke: "I'm getting my license, Grace. I'm not starting a covert war." Joan: "Is this, like, pillow talk for you two?" Grace: "Fighting for the environment is not a war." I think it might have to be. At least it would be something worth fighting for. Luke sighs: "I just wanna drive a big machine." Grace wonders if that's all men are really about. Joan: "Apparently."
They're about to run into a gaggle of bitchy girls, one of whom is Hilary Duff, but first, we have to get a snippet of their conversation in order to establish that they are essentially superficial, insecure, and competitive. Just in case you didn't discern it from their blonde, flat-ironed, pastel-wearing prettiness. The Duff suggests that they attend a one-day Ugg boot sale at the mall: "We should clear them out." One of the other girls snots, "Uggs are so five minutes ago. I'd rather wear Nine Westor die." Uhwhatever. I mean, I like Nine West and all, but I can't imagine it's the trendiest label of the moment. I wear it. How cool can it be? If you want to know what's going on shoe-wise, you need to read Manolo's Shoe Blog. No argument on the five-minutes-ago-ness of Uggs, though -- one of the most aptly named products in recent memory. They giggle, and The Duff tries to cover her tracks: "Like I was serious!" They're blocking the path of the subdefectives. Joan asks if they can get through. The Duff sneers, "Look! It's a pack of angry weirdoes." They walk off as Grace remarks, "Maybe ending the assault weapons ban wasn't such a bad thing." Hey, at least The Duff isn't playing herself. But would she be any better at it? I wonder. And at least the makeup artist wrested the black eyeliner away from her.
Joan's walking down the street later the same day. She's wearing some kind of scarf under her jacket -- or maybe it's a sweater with a really complicated collar -- that has a bunch of big pearls sewn up the side in a long cluster. (I'm not explaining this very well.) I didn't know what it was at first and I still don't, but it's kind of growing on me. Not that I could wear anything like that. It would look like it was growing on me. She sits down at the bus stop to some loony lady you just know is God. She's played by HITG! Veanne Cox. She makes a production out of moving her bag, and asking Joan, as she returns to her cross-stitching (or whatever), "Comfy?" She smiles a big, toothy, almost creepy smile at Joan, who just rubs her hands for warmth and doesn't reply. If I were Joan I would be suspicious of absolutely every stranger who spoke to me for any reason. Well, actually, I'm like that anyway, but if I were Joan, people wouldn't call me distrustful and paranoid. Freaky friendly lady: "They should really put benches at all the bus stops. Make the world a better place, one tush at a time." Yeah, and you know what we need even more than benches? Shelters. Hello? What good is a bench if I have to sit in the rain, snow, or freezing cold? Oh, what do I care? In a week, I'll have my license -- God willing -- and I'll turn into a lazy, pollution-spewing, big-fat-environmental-footprint-leaving, to-the-gym-driving car potato like everybody else. She adds, "What do you think, Joan?" She smiles creepily at Joan, who just looks at her, and finally says, "God says 'tush'?" Which is the best possible thing she could have said.
“ As Joan and Adam take off, she sees Gabby and Elle giving her cold, haughty looks. The Duff turns away and just stands there with her tray, instead of going and sitting somewhere and reading something like any functional person would. ”
Helen's making dinner when Will comes in, saying, "Smells good!" Helen: "Me, or the stew?" Will kisses her, saying, "Both." He asks what the occasion is. I'm gonna guessdinner? Helen says it's in honour of the award that Joan's getting at school tomorrow. Will hasn't heard about it, which puzzles Helen, because Lucyfer's arranged for the police department to give Joan an award for her bravery. Will struggles to keep his expression neutral as Helen says Lucyfer called this afternoon. Will: "Lucy[fer]? She called you?" Helen wonders why she wouldn't tell Will first. He makes up a story about being out all day and leaving without checking his messages. Helen says softly, "I felt a little ashamed when I was talking to her. I mean, this was a really nice thing for Joan. I guess she's not as bad as I thought." Will: "Yeah, she's really something." Hide the pet rabbit, Will. Now. You might also want to look into a Kevlar jockstrap.
Joan and The Duff are in line at the cafeteria. The Duff asks if Joan's excited about the award ceremony. Joan: "Making Price kiss my butt in public? I couldn't make that one up in my dreams." Joan hands her what looks like an agenda book and asks, "So how'd you get so organized?" The Duff says, "Nobody likes mistakes, so it's easier to just do things right. Besides, then everybody will stay off your back." Joan: "So that's what I've been doing wrong." The Duff says she's been thinking about tossing the whole thing, anyway: "I mean, who needs to be perfect, right? Look at you." Joan wonders if that was a compliment. The Duff: "Totally." She's starting dressing more like Joan, with a scarf around her neck and a frilly sweater. Joan: "Okay. So what do I want to make me sick today?" She selects a tray of nachos and some grape juice. The Duff takes the same thing. Adam comes rushing in as they're heading for the cashier, saying he only has ten minutes: "You want to have lunch?" The Duff tells Adam the nachos look awesome. He says he brought something. Joan: "Let's go, the meter's running" She tells The Duff she'll see her at the "award thingy." The Duff thought they were going to eat lunch together. Joan explains she only has ten minutes with her boyfriend: "He's a mogul." God, I hate cling-ons. I just don't know what to do with people who can't be by themselves. The Duff says she'll see them at the award ceremony. As Joan and Adam take off, she sees Gabby and Elle giving her cold, haughty looks. The Duff turns away and just stands there with her tray, instead of going and sitting somewhere and reading something like any functional person would.
Joan and Adam sit down as he apologizes for having to miss the award ceremony, because he has to go over some stuff with his boss. Joan doesn't care; she's only doing it for her parents: "And [The Duff]." Adam shows her his visual concept for the sunglasses campaign, the slogan for which is "in your face." Adam: "I'm telling you, Jane, the way we workwe're like equals." Well, this is hardly anvilicious, is it? Joan: "I could date those glasses." They're all smiley and about to kiss when suddenly The Duff's there, interrupting: "You know, Joan told me how important this ad thing was, and I just wanted to say good luck. It looks awesome." Send him a text message, missy. She glances over toward Gabby and Elle, who are watching her and practicing their bitchfaces. Adam, ever sensitive, notices, and suggests that The Duff take his seat, since he has to run anyways. Joan pleads, "Adam -- don't you have a few more minutes?" He says he doesn't want to be late for hearing Michael tell him how great he is, so he kisses her and takes off. The Duff plants her duff: "Don't worryI'll keep you company."
“ There's Little Girl God, who's really growing up fast. Little deities do that, don't they? One minute they're all drooling and pooping themselves and the thing you know it, they're smiting people and turning them into pillars of salt. Where do the millennia go? ”
Will's at the vending machine (yes, you read that right, Will -- not Chewy) when Chewy comes up to tell him the coins had already been dusted. He starts putting money in, even though Will had just been chucking coins in and hadn't gotten anything yet. Will's too surprised to care: "What? Who ordered them?" Three guesses, and if you pick Satan, Beelzebub, and Abaddon, you win the little plastic pitchfork. Chewy says he can get Will the report. Will tells him not to bother: "Must have come up dry. Sorry to waste your time." Chewy asks if there's anything else. They're both distracted by the sight of Lucyfer down the hallway. Will tells Chewy there's nothing else and walks away. Chewy, ever mindful of the importance of snacking, tosses Will the can of soda I guess he'd selected. Lucyfer comes up to ask whether Will wants a ride over to Arcadia High: "I'll let you take a sneak peek at her award." Will says he has a few stops to make on his own: "Thanks." Lucyfer: "Sure."
Friedman's at his locker when Luke comes down the stairs with a huge smile: "Look! I got my license, dude, I did it!" Friedman: "Yeah, baby!" They hoot and jump up, bumping their chests together. Grace is on the stairs behind them, watching this display with a grim expression: "So you did it, huh? Who cares about the polar ice cap melting? You just pack the penguins in your car. You can all do a drive-through for a burrito grande." Luke: "Can the preamble, Grace. If you're gonna do it, just do it, okay? I am a gas-guzzling, smog-spewing tool of a corrupt oil-based economy. So just break up with me! Because I am never gonna live up to your expectations." Grace is slightly dumsquizzled: "Dude, you've endowed me with entirely too much power." Luke: "But, you said" Grace: "I say a lot of things. I'm just a simple anarchist trying to get through my day. You do your thing, I do mine." I love Grace. Friedman is thinking, "Dude, that is so hot," but wisely chooses not to vocalize that thought. Luke: "So you'll ride with me?" Grace laughs: "Yeah, right. Let me go get my fur coat." As she brushes past him, she touches his shoulder and says quietly that she'll meet him in the biology closet at 3:00. Luke stares after her, asking Friedman, "What just happened?" Friedman: "Who cares? Shotgun!" They run out.
Overhead shot of various toilet stalls. Joan's in the last one, hiding from this year's barnacle. Didn't they learn anything from Iris? No one likes a barnacle. Someone knocks on the door and Joan says it's taken. The knocking persists, and Joan points out the other stalls are free and asks for a little peace. Under the door we see little pair of orangey-red boots with fringes and we hear a familiar voice: "I'm all about giving you peace, Joan." Joan bangs her head gently against the wall and laughs silently to herself before reaching over to open up the door. There's Little Girl God, who's really growing up fast. Little deities do that, don't they? One minute they're all drooling and pooping themselves and the thing you know it, they're smiting people and turning them into pillars of salt. Where do the millennia go? Joan throws up her hands: "God isn't familiar with my right to privacy?" Uh, you're not familiar with the concept of omnipresence? That's the creepy thing about God: there is actually no privacy. Well, one of the creepy things. Little Girl God: "Things must be pretty bad for you to seek solace in a bathroom stall." Joan says she's gotten to know the life she saved, and it's creepy: "She won't leave me alone." Joan tries to close the door, but Little Girl God pushes it open: "She looks up to you. She needs a hero." Joan: "Why? She's already been saved." Joan comes out of the stall. Little Girl God says some people can't see their own lives: "They live in a kind of darkness. They think that the only way they can see is by using someone else's light. That's what she's looking to you for." Joan whines that she can barely see herself. Little Girl God knows. Joan: "Nice. You know, a little pep talk every now and then wouldn't kill you." Little Girl God says she's doing just fine. Joan: "So how do I make her see? What do I make her see?" Little Girl God just walks out with a Godwave. I notice in this scene that although Joan and Little Girl God aren't dressed at all similarly, they're wearing the same unusual colour scheme: orangey-red, a purpley-fuchsia, and browns. Joan gives a snarky little Godwave back.
“ You know, it's not like a better actor would have made this weak, implausible storyline much better, but at least it wouldn't have hurt to try that. ”
Auditorium. Lucyfer, Joan, The Duff, and Price are all onstage. Lucyfer presents a certificate for outstanding public service to Joan and gives her a little embrace. Will watches warily. Everyone applauds. Nine West (I don't know if that's Gabby or Elle, so we're back to that) leans forward and says something to Brian. Price thanks everyone for coming and as people stand up to leave, he says to her, "Very uplifting, Ms. Girardi. An oasis in the desert of your permanent record. Well done." Joan: "Excuse me?" Price: "Well done." Joan: "Once more?" He starts to leave the stage as Brian starts asking questions: "[The Duff], there were other witnesses at the scene who said the vehicle was never in any danger of hitting you? Is that true?" Price tells him not to waste the sheriff's time: "I'm sure that the streets of Arcadia are teeming with felons." Hee. The Duff says Joan pulled her out of the street. He asks her to verify that she saw that the SUV was going to hit her. She says she heard tires squealing. Joan tells Brian the car was going to hit her. Brian: "But if you didn't actually save her life" Joan says she didn't ask for "this whole fiesta." She says she was just there and The Duff was going to get hit. Helen pipes up: "That was the account written up in the Herald." Brian: "By your son. Do you consider that to be objective journalism?" Oh, now we care about that? Chah, whatever. Do you consider that bright yellow sweater vest over the blue shirt to be a non-eyesore? Also, way to wear the school colours, dweeb. Kevin, who's also there -- with his poufy new hair that makes him, no joke, at least two inches taller -- says, "Dude, I checked all the facts." Lucyfer pats Joan on the shoulders, saying, "I think we can move along here. This is a celebration." Brian wants The Duff to definitively say that Joan saved her life. Good gravy, who really cares? It's not like an entire political party stole an election leading to someone who was never actually elected being in office for eight years while he freedomizes the world. Everyone looks at The Duff. She stands there like Bambi, caught in the bitchface glare coming from Gabby and Elle. She caves, of course: "I don't know, it happened so fast, and" Joan: "[The Duff]" The Duff points at the bitches and says, "Ask themthey were there, I guess they would know." One of the other reporters -- and there seem to be some there apart from Kevin; I mean, my God, is there absolutely nothing else going on in Arcadia this afternoon? -- says the driver of the SUV said there was plenty of time to stop. Will points out that this is because The Duff could sue him. Another reporter asks Will if he doesn't think it's a conflict of interest to get his own police department to give his daughter an award. Lucyfer says firmly that it was her call. Price tells them they're done and everybody should get back to class. Joan, listening to the mild bickering that's going on, turns to The Duff and says, "Tell them!" The Duff just gives her a "can't help you" look and walks offstage. You know, it's not like a better actor would have made this weak, implausible storyline much better, but at least it wouldn't have hurt to try that.
“ The Duff walks through the hall behind Joan with her bitchface posse. Gold Bag snots, 'Oh my God, someone's in peril! Oh, never fear, SuperJoan's going to take credit.' No way does Gold Bag know the word 'peril.' ”
After the commercials the Girardis are at the kitchen table. Joan's reading a news story: "Questions Arise About High School Hero." Helen says it's ridiculous and that she's cancelling their subscription. Man, if I did that every time someone wrote something I didn't like, there wouldn't be a magazine or newspaper left in the world I could read. Kevin: "Don't look at me, it's not my byline." Helen: "How can they print such garbage?" Luke: "Well, technically the article's true. Questions did arise." Will tells her not to worry about it. Joan: "'Don't worry about it'? Everybody thinks I'm walking slime now!" Kevin says he tried to get them to kill the story: "But they said I wasn't being objective." Joan says they could have talked to the coffee cart guy: "He saw!" Kevin says that was in the first piece: "This is the new angle for the follow-up." Joan gripes about her life being an angle. Luke: "Classic case of yellow journalism. Sensationalism unclouded by fact." Joan claims she's going to school with a bag on her head. Will says she's not any different: "They are." Joan tells him she hopes she didn't get him in any trouble with his boss. Will tells Joan not to worry about that.
Joan walks through the halls at school, with everyone staring at her, gossiping about her, calling her names, and passing judgment on her. Honestly, isn't there anyone at Arcadia High who's just indifferent, or out of it, or not part of the hive mind? As Joan reaches her locker, some girl tells her, "Lying so you have something to write about on your college essay? You make me sick." Joan calls after her, "Have a nice day!" Then she mutters to herself: "Now I know how JLo feels." The Duff walks through the hall behind Joan with her bitchface posse. Gold Bag snots, "Oh my God, someone's in peril! Oh, never fear, SuperJoan's going to take credit." No way does Gold Bag know the word "peril." Joan asks The Duff, "So you're back to making fun of me? How does that work?" The Duff squeaks, "Don't rag on me!" Joan: "You were there." The Duff: "I wasn't looking, and they said --" Joan: "You're incredible! Yesterday you said I was the most important person in your life, but the second these clones take me down, I'm just something on your shoe?" Nine West asks The Duff: "'The most important person in your life'?" The Duff claims she didn't say that. Joan huffs that she tried to cut The Duff some slack: "Thinking there was a decent person in there." She takes off the watch and gives it back to The Duff: "Why don't you give this to the most important person in your life?" The Duff: "I don't want that thing! It was just some cheapie off of a cart in the mall." She tries to walk away again but Joan's pretty mad: "But you know what it meant when you gave it to me!" The Duff claims it was a joke. Joan: "Oh my God, I can't take this anymore. The whole sob story about your mother being a waitress -- was that just another lie, too?" The Duff looks scared now -- and the clones look suspicious. The Duff says Joan doesn't know what she's talking about. Joan: "'Oh, Joan's a subdefective. She'll buy that waitress story. Hmm, Don Thornberry's by the airportthat's good and sad.'" Nine West: "Your mom's a waitress?" The Duff's little eyebrows keep bunching up and now she's all teary as Joan rants on: "Yeah, what's it gonna be week? Oceanographer? Oh, I know: a princess!" The Duff just stands there looking like a smacked puppy. She finally turns and walks away without a word as Joan realizes what's happened. She calls out, "I thought you were making it up! I'm so --"
“ Do you think they get a special price on all that, a sort of Bulimia Special? They sit down at a table -- not that I believe hardly any high school girl in North America would sit down in the middle of her cafeteria with six or seven desserts, particularly if she were as insecure as The Duff, but whatever -- and Joan watches as The Duff tentatively takes a bite of one and then another. ”
Nighttime. Adam's walking along a street looking kind of disillusioned. Joan catches up with him. She's wearing the cutest coat. I keep mentioning that to Frink, who thinks it doesn't look very warm. Me: "Could you stop being an engineer for, like, one minute? Look how cute it is!" Frink: "Yes, it's adorably impractical." Joan says she heard from her mother about what happened in the ad meeting: "I'm sorry." They walk slowly down the street, arm in arm, as Marc Cohn's song "Walk Through the World" plays. Adam thanks her, and says, "I heard you weren't a hero anymore." Joan confirms this, laughing mirthlessly, and adds, "I'm mean, too. I yelled at [The Duff] and ruined her life." Adam shakes his head: "What happened? Five minutes ago, you know, we were amazing, and how'd everything get so low so fast?" Joan: "Not everything. The TV people really liked Kevin, you know, they've asked him to pitch a few more stories. Apparently he has TV hair. Has anything really changed? I kind of like it better just being us." They kiss. Adam apologizes, saying he has to go pick up Michael's dry cleaning.
He takes off and Joan walks a little further, finding Freaky Friendly God on a bench, drinking coffee, staring straight ahead. She sits down, and she and God slowly glance at each other. Joan: "Okay, so I was horrible to [The Duff]." Freaky Friendly God: "She lost her hero -- she didn't know where to turn" Joan says the whole hero thing is totally fake: "I was never any different. She made me into something I'm not!" Freaky Friendly God says she's right: "If you're trying to get your worth from someone else, you can't fulfill your own true nature, which is what I'm all about." Joan wants to know why everyone has to hate her now: "They were all over me before!" Yeah, but you didn't like that either, as I recall. God says they like her: "And they hate you." Joan says that makes no sense. Freaky Friendly God: "It's a paradox. You're a hero. And you're not perfect. You were horrible to [The Duff] because you cared. Another paradox. If you accept that they both can exist simultaneously, then you can find peace in the contradictions, which is where you'll find me." Joan wants to know what she's supposed to do now: "You asked me to get to know the life I saved, and I didit's messed up. I -- I can't change her. I'm no hero. I'm just me." Freaky Friendly God: "Maybe that's enough." She gets up and wanders off with a Godwave.
The Duff's standing in front of one of the food cases in the cafeteria. There are several different types of desserts in paper trays, all lined up. All looking equally unappetizing. She stands there with an empty tray as some guy takes a cookie. Joan wanders over and says hey. The Duff: "Hey." Joan: "Gabby and Elle?" The Duff: "Ditched me." Joan: "I'm really sorry." The Duff says she knows. Joan says she doesn't understand how The Duff could just turn on her like she did. The Duff: "Because they did. Because I'm always scared I'm gonna be on the wrong side. I'm not like you. I mean, throughout this whole entire thing, when everybody was into you and then they were against you, you never changed into somebody else. You were always just Joan." Joan shrugs: "And you're just [The Duff]." The Duff replies, "And who is that? I've been standing here staring at the desserts for probably five minutes. You know why? Because I don't know what I like. I mean, how pathetic is that? I have no idea who I am." Joan looks like she can't quite believe there's someone so much more insecure and addled than she is herself, but says, "Maybe it's time to find out." She starts putting one of every dessert on her tray -- including something in scary shades of pink and yellow not found in nature. Do you think they get a special price on all that, a sort of Bulimia Special? They sit down at a table -- not that I believe hardly any high school girl in North America would sit down in the middle of her cafeteria with six or seven desserts, particularly if she were as insecure as The Duff, but whatever -- and Joan watches as The Duff tentatively takes a bite of one and then another.
episode: More Dufftastic stunt casting! Because networks are exceptionally slow to learn. Here's a starting point: if you're going to stunt-cast, at least don't pick people who've got their own damn category on Go Fug Yourself. Well, I suppose Haylie is a slightly better actor than Hilary, at least. Still. Just stop it, willya?
And me? Look for me on Pimp My Ride, or Overhaulin', or whoever'll take me. I need some help turning my rustbucket into a funkmobile. You know, assuming my road test goes as well as Luke's.