Shout-out to madmango. Also, props to me: I passed my driving test. Whee! Also? Look out.
An English teacher lectures a class about Romantic poetry. As she wanders around the room, snapping her fingers to wake up one particularly riveted student, Grace mimes making a noose and hanging herself. Joan smirks. The teacher catches it, and tells her a substitute can send people to the office, too. As the teacher returns to her subject, we see that Joan is writing variations on "Mrs. Adam Rove" in her notebook. My middle-aged self is grossed out, but I can't honestly say I never did the same thing in high school -- over a couple of boyfriends who probably wouldn't recognize me if we passed each other in the street now. Not to rain on your parade and all, Jane. Mind you, neither of those guys was as all about me as Adam is about you. As the teacher drones on about the importance of imagination to the Romantic poets, Joan slips into a daydream.
We see an apartment full of funky and kitschy stuff (jukeboxes, neon signs) and Adam's art. Joan comes breezing in, all business-womany in a tight black suit, with her hair slicked back in a chignon: "Hi honey, I'm home." I want that bag she just plopped on the foosball table. (Dude, my spellchecker didn't choke on "foosball," and yet I cannot remember ever using that word before. Is it in the Microsoft Word dictionary?) I also want the bracelet she's wearing. Adam, all in black with a plain black toque, replies, "Hey baby…how are things on Wall Street?" She's all blasé: "You know, just trading stocks and making deals." She kisses him and then looks at him funny, like something doesn't make sense. Then we hear that record-scratching sound, and suddenly the whole scene rewinds and we start over.
This time when Joan comes in, she's dressed much more artsy: boots, peasant-y blouse, patchwork skirt, suede coat, long hair, lots of jewellery. They go through the same routine, except this time Adam asks her, "How was record producing?" She sighs: "Usher is so needy." She asks what she should cook for dinner, and Adam says he's ordered pizza. She giggles very fakely and says, "You are the best!" He smiles: "Anything for you." Then: "Guess what? The Guggenheim called and they're giving me my own wing." Too funny. I'm sure the Guggenheim is the only museum Joan's ever heard of, besides maybe the Louvre. Joan says that's incredible. He unveils a large canvas to reveal a portrait of a woman looking off to one side. I guess it's supposed to be Joan, but the hair is really blonde if it's Joan. As the camera swings back and forth between them, she gushes: "You are so amazing!" Adam: "No, you are." Joan simpers: "No, you." Adam: "No, you." Frink is casting about for a barf bag, here. I may join him.
Cut back to the classroom, where the bell startles Joan out of her daydream. Grace mutters to Joan, "I think I actually lost body mass from boredom." I want to see Grace's daydreams about Luke, don't you? As they walk out, Joan says she can't believe she's looking forward to the return of Mrs. Gross: "I even miss her mole." The substitute calls Joan back and Grace whispers, "Do not cop to anything." The teacher asks, "How can you not be interested in Romantic poetry, Joan, with your imagination? I like that you made yourself a record producer." Joan looks dismayed: "God shouldn't be boring. And you're in my daydreams? That's worse than spying." Substitute Teacher God suggests that Joan do the extra credit assignment. Joan: "What for? This is my good class." Substitute Teacher God: "Because you might learn something, you might enjoy it, and because I'm asking you to." Joan: "Yeah, but those first two don't really matter, do they?" Substitute Teacher God says nothing. Joan: "What is it? I'm already late for lunch." Substitute Teacher God glances toward the board, which reads: "Choose a poem by Byron, Shelley or Keats:- Analyze and explain." (And yes, that's the punctuation. I don't think I believe an English teacher would actually punctuate that way.) Frink thinks the handwriting on the board isn't very female. He also thinks they should be more subtle about who's God. Joan says she almost fell asleep reading the assignment. Substitute Teacher God tells her to give it a shot. She also tells her to go before her fishsticks get cold. Joan walks out with a sarcastic wave, saying, "Stay out of my daydreams!" Good luck with that. Theme song.
Helen and Will are asleep when the phone rings. Helen answers it and hands it to Will saying, "It's Lucy[fer]." Will's slightly alarmed: "Why's she calling here?" Helen takes a stab: "She's your boss?" Will thinks he must have left his cell phone off. He takes the call, as Helen lies there, wearily wondering what's going on.
We see an old dead guy with a white beard lying in an alley. Dude, somebody offed Santa Claus! Will's crouched over him, and he says to Chewy (who's not eating anything in this scene): "I'm going with 'dead drunk guy.' Carlisle?" Chewy: "You're the boss." Will asks a uniformed cop if there's any sign of foul play. Hey! Elaine Hendrix! Lischak's back. And Barbara Hall wrote this one. The cop tells him the guy froze to death: "I don't know why you detectives got called in on this." Will: "Yeah, yeah, sweep the area anyway. Look for prints, tire tracks, meteor craters…" The cop protests: "But there's nothing!" Will: "Just do it." What an excellent use of taxpayer dollars. Well done, Lucyfer. He walks away as Chewy comes over to ask, "You want to tell me what's going on?" Will: "If I knew." Chewy wonders if they're on some kind of probation. Will: "Apparently." Chewy gets all serious: "You know, Will, you can talk to me. It's kind of already out there, you know? It's sort of an open secret in the department." Will: "What is?" Chewy sighs: "You and Preston." Will shakes his head and tells Chewy, "She's got a thing for me. She's created this whole mythology. She claims I played into it." Frink is impressed that Will could come up with "created a mythology" at four o'clock in the morning. Chewy: "Did you?" Will: "No! I don't know. Aw, hell, I hope not. I'm a happily married man. The whole idea of it is insane." Chewy mentions all the pressure of the lawsuit. Will insists, "Nothing happened. Do you hear me?" Chewy says he does: "But we're in an alley at four o'clock in the morning for no good reason." Will explains, "I'm being punished because nothing happened." Chewy wants to know what Helen says, and he can tell from Will's reaction that he didn't tell her. Will: "How the hell do I start that conversation?"
Joan, Luke, and Grace are walking through the halls. Joan's reading her poetry book: "I don't get it. These poems are supposed to be romantic but they're all about death." Luke: "Death is romantic." Grace: "Especially when there's blood." Luke: "Or a plague." They smirk at each other. Aw. Maybe Luke'll turn into a little goth. I wonder how Grace would like that. Joan throws up her hands: "Why haven't we double-dated?" As they round the corner, they see Adam down the hall at his locker, chatting with some blonde chick in one of Jennifer Beals's navy blue sweatshirts, except someone's plastered a big yellow happy face on it. Frink: "Unless you're being ironic, take that thing off." It's Haylie Duff, by the way, sister of last episode's Hilary Duff. She was also in Napoleon Dynamite, in case you feel like you've seen her somewhere before but you're not sure where. I mean, somewhere other than The Fug Blog, Duff Sisters Department. It also looks to me like her jeans are tucked into her striped socks -- am I seeing things? What is going on there? The sweatshirt also appears to be belted around the hips and bloused out. Or something. Dear God. She's also wearing big, trashy hoop earrings that have all kinds of dangly bits on them. I guess they let Haylie Duff dress herself. Grace, Luke, and Joan all stop short and stare, as Happy Face Chick blathers away at Adam. Grace and Joan turn their backs conspiratorially and Grace says, "Dude?" Joan: "I'm on it." Joan approaches them, and Luke says to Grace, "This looks private." Grace pushes him away slightly: "The girl needs backup. Go." I thought she wasn't Joan's posse?
When Joan reaches Adam he greets her warmly (as "Jane"), with a kiss on the cheek (accentuated by a "mwah!" sound -- stop it, stop it, please stop it ["seriously -- he has these moments where he's written all Carson Kressley, and it's weird" -- Sars]). He introduces her (as his girlfriend "Joan") to his assistant, Stevie Marx. He introduces Grace as his friend. Stevie gushes, "It's so excellent to meet you guys!" Joan: "I didn't know Adam had an assistant." He explains it just happened: "I put an ad in the school newspaper…" Stevie: "And I'm so stoked…" Adam says she's going to help him out with his "design shop stuff." So…wait. He's an assistant, somewhere between an exalted gofer and his boss's right hand, and he needs an assistant of his own? Even if that's the case…how come Adam's in charge of hiring her? Wouldn't the design firm do it? I'm having so much trouble with this storyline. Couldn't she just be another intern the design firm hired to work with his boss, Michael? Why does she have to be his assistant? Why do the Duffs have to be on this show at all? CBS is so barking up the wrong tree. Perhaps they'll take a hint from the fact that the stunt casting of these Duffisodes only seems to have resulted in lower ratings. I hope there aren't as many Duff Sisters as there are Baldwins, that's all I've got to say. Stevie gloats that she gets two whole art credits for "hanging around and watching him be a genius." Grace has a tight smile on her face. Joan: "Oh, I do that for free." Adam doesn't quite know how to respond to that, but can tell that Joan's not quite as stoked as Stevie is. Stevie says, "Well, I gotta run, Ads." "Ads"? "Ads"? I think that may actually be worse than Iris calling him "A." Speaking of Iris: Have they learned nothing from these ill-fated introduce-a-female-interloper storylines? I feel I must once again state how very, very, very tired I am of the "jealous female" theme that permeates so much of this show. No, Joan's storyline with Roger doesn't begin to mitigate it, nor does Helen's brief phone fling with her ex. I've already gone into this at length in the past (Joan, Rebecca, Glynis, Helen, Lucyfer, Grace, Iris, Judith -- is there a female with a major speaking part on this show who's eluded a jealousy storyline?) so I'll just reiterate: Snore. Also? Does that calendar say 1955? Does it? Let's move on already.
Stevie tells Joan and Grace it was really nice to meet them. She tells Grace, "And I love your look." To Joan: "And you have an awesome man who is gonna be wicked famous." She toodles off and Grace and Joan just look at Adam. Grace: "'Ads'?" He says, "Guys, don't make a thing of it, okay? I needed an assistant, she answered the ad." Grace: "And I guess all the ugly assistants were taken." I guess Grace has learned to like the taste of gross stew. Adam replies, "Don't you have an appointment in the biology closet?" Heh. Grace is taken aback. Adam just points, and Grace wanders off in that direction. Joan looks all dubious and pouty. Adam: "Jane, don't go there. She's on the spirit squad, okay? She has Hello Kitty stuff." Joan complains, "You never mentioned needing an assistant. I could have helped you!" Adam: "When? You're busier than I am. Aw, Jane, come on, you aren't seriously jealous." He puts his arms around her as they walk. Joan: "No. She's just so perky." Adam: "I hate perky. This you know."
Kevin's at a coffee shop, placing his order: "Stella, the usual, to go. Make it snappy." Stella, the goth girl barista, tells him, "We're backed up. No special treatment for gimps." As she sashays off, Kevin says, "You've got moxie! I like that." Kevin wheels toward the tables, noticing Lily sitting alone at one. I think she's reading a surfing magazine. Kevin figures, what the hell. He screws up his nerve and wheels over: "Uh, is this a popular nun hangout?" Lily smiles: "There's no such thing as a popular nun." Heh. He says he hasn't seen her around the house lately. Lily: "That's because your mother decided she wasn't ready to be a Catholic. So unless she asks me to join her bridge club, I don't think we'll be hanging out. Maybe I wasn't a good enough teacher." Kevin: "I can't believe that's true." His hair looks better here. Not so poufy. Lily's hair…I don't know. I like the two-tone thing for her, but it's ironed so flat now, I just don't know if it's that flattering. It's a bit Lily Nunster (tm madmango). I think Constance Zimmer is really pretty -- gorgeous eyes and great smile -- but the hair isn't doing much for her. He tells her he looked into the surfing thing: "Apparently I can totally do it." Lily smiles: "Of course you can! We should go out sometime." She gets up to put the magazines back. Kevin thinks: "Yeah, all I need is a specially fitted surfboard, and…you know, an ocean." While Lily's up, he finds himself looking at her exposed midriff. She mentions surfing works better in the summer, too, and turns back to him just in time to catch him checking her out. Kevin, totally busted, gives her a great expression that's a mixture of guilt, surprise, and confusion. Lily smiles, puzzled: "Are you…checking me out?" Kevin tries to deny it but fesses up finally. Lily: "So…what does that mean?" Kevin: "Um, I'm straight, and, uh…you're not a nun anymore." Lily wonders if he's asking her out. Kevin: "Well, do you want to go out?" Lily: "No!" Kevin, surprised by the speed of her reaction: "Oh!" Lily tries to soften it by saying that it's probably not a good idea, what with Helen and all. Kevin: "Well, she wouldn't have to come with us, although I usually do take her on my dates." Lily smiles. Listen, sister, it's been a long time since Kevin had what could be called a "good idea" when it comes to dating: 1) cheats on Beth; 2) goes after his boss, Rebecca; 3) cheats on Rebecca with Michelle/Randie; 4) gets back together with Beth, despite boatloads of unresolved stuff and new issues; 5) hits on his mother's friend, an ex-nun catechism teacher. Not that I don't want to see Lily and Kevin together, because I do. But the kid wouldn't recognize a good idea if it rode up to him in a rickshaw wearing feathers and a gold lamé thong, twirling a flaming baton.
Kevin says Helen wouldn't have to know. Lily: "Sneaking, huh? I haven't done that since the convent." Kevin looks surprised. She adds, "Cigarettes, not…not guys." Stella announces that Kevin's drink is ready: "No foam soy latte with vanilla." Kevin nods and then turns to Lily, who's giving him a predictable look after hearing that. Kevin: "I have a strong feminine side." Lily, trying not to sound too eager, tells him she's free tonight and she likes Italian: "Ruggero's is good." Kevin: "Can I…pick the time?" Lily: "Of course. Eight works for me." As he wheels away, he says, "Eight-fifteen." Lily: "You're the guy!" Their children would have beautiful eyes, you know? Both of them have nice eyes. I kind of wonder if Lily is still a virgin. I mean, we don't know much about her life before she went into the convent -- she might have gone in pretty young, and even though we get a clue in this episode that she was a wild child, it doesn't mean she wasn't a virgin. Nor do we know exactly how long she's been out. I always get a vibe from her of having a lot of defenses built up.
Grace, Luke, and Friedman wind their way to a table in the cafeteria as Grace bitches: "What a great time of year: it's freezing, midterms are coming up, it's a billion years before school's out, everybody's sick and there's nothing to look forward to." And people wonder why I hate having my birthday this month. What's not to love? Friedman sing-songs, "Valentine's Day…" Grace warns Luke, "Don't even think about it." Luke: "No, I'm a guy, I'll totally forget it." Grace looks slightly disappointed: "Oh. Right." They sit down with Joan and Adam, whose hood is pulled up over his head, but is sitting on his head in a very weird way, almost like he's wearing something sort of lumpy and pointy underneath it. Maybe he's got a toque on underneath, and the hood is clinging to it? I dunno. It's very distracting, though. Adam asks if they're studying for physics today and Joan says she can't, because she's getting tutored in English for her extra credit project. Adam: "Tutored? I thought you were doing okay in English." Joan: "Well, apparently I can do better." Grace: "What is with all this trying, Girardi? You're like a stranger to me." Stevie comes up to tell Adam she got the slides back for the class project and thought he'd want to see them right away. Joan whispers, "I thought she was helping you with design shop." Adam says, "And a little bit of class stuff, too." He asks Stevie if she knows everybody; she replies, "Sure…Joan, Grace, and you must be Luke." She tells Grace and Luke, "You guys made the biology closet famous." Grace gives Luke a look of alarm. Luke: "I didn't…" Stevie assures them: "Oh, it's everywhere." Grace looks mildly horrified, but not at all on the verge of an aneurysm, as she would have been some months back. She has really changed over time. To Friedman, who's drinking milk from a small carton, Stevie says, "And you're Friedman, right? You're going to Harvard?" He smiles at her with a milk moustache: "Well, I'm considering it. It's really not much of a sports school. But you know, I can't discount Yale, really, with its drama department, and, uh…the rowing team is fant--" Everyone's sort of smiling and smirking to themselves about the milk, and Luke finally indicates it to Friedman. Stevie: "Okay, I gotta jet. Uh, see you later, Ads." Adam: "Thanks, Stevie." As Joan sneers, "'Gotta jet'?" Adam notices Grace, Luke, and Friedman all giving him looks from across the table. Adam protests, "She's a great assistant!" Grace: "Who could even contemplate high school without an assistant?" Adam gives her a "Thanks, Polk," look. Joan says she has to go read some odes. Adam: "Hey, so, so who's tutoring you? Roger?" Joan doesn't have an answer for that, so she just leaves without saying anything more. When she's gone, everyone looks at Adam again. He protests, "It was just a question!"
Police station. Chewy asks Will, "What's with Preston breathing down our necks?" Didn't we already cover this in their first scene? Will apologizes for the fact that Chewy's being dragged into this. Chewy: "She's teaching me a lesson, too. Afraid of what I might know, possibly." If she wants to shut this guy up, she should just buy him a big box of Circus Peanuts. Will says, "She's not afraid of anything…and she's untouchable." Chewy says Will has a sexual harassment case: "You can file without pressing charges." Will: "Yeah, then I can retire and run a flower shop." Would that really be so bad? As far as I can tell, the bad in this job has outweighed the good since you got to Arcadia. Chewy: "I'm just saying…" They look up and see Lucyfer ushering some unfamiliar big-shot-looking guys into her office. Chewy continues, "She might beat you to it." Will sighs as he looks over and sees Lucyfer's evil grin beaming their way.
Kevin and Lily are on their date. She's explaining surfing to Kevin, and how the paddling against the waves is the worst part: "You just gotta climb back on, just to get bashed again!" Kevin: "Sort of like dating." Lily chortles: "Oh, really? I haven't done enough to know. No, right now, it's more like, 'the shoes looked cute in the store, but then they hurt my feet.'" Freud would have a field day with that metaphor. She asks about his hobbies. Kevin: "I play golf, some, and, um…I have pretty high maintenance hygiene." O…kay…? Talk about a date-stopping comment. He smiles weirdly, and I can't tell if he made the comment out of some kind of nervousness, or because he's not liking the date and wants to put her off, or because he's testing her threshold for his situation because of what happened with Beth, or what. He's rendered Lily speechless, though, which isn't easy. He continues, "Which is a gross thing to say on a first date. Or any date. I'm sorry." Lily tries to soldier on: "No, at least you haven't talked ad nauseam about your last girlfriend." Kevin doesn't say anything, suppressing something akin to a smirk. Lily: "That was coming?" He shakes his head. Lily says she's sure he really got around -- when he could get around. Kevin tries to deflect that without saying anything. Lily: "You broke a lot of hearts?" Translation: "How long before you break mine?" Kevin admits, "A few. One in particular. But, uh…she got me back." Lily asks when that was. Kevin looks at his watch for a moment and says, "Oh, um…three weeks ago." Lily: "Well. As long as it's not fresh. I mean, should we even be doing this?" Kevin thinks so; he says he had to get back in the game: "And, um, you asked, and I like you, so…" This is so not someone who's interested in being your ticket back into "the game," Kev. Lily: "I asked?" Yeah, this date's completely off the rails now. Kevin: "You did everything but send a car." Lily: "Oh, okay. Well, um…I've had about as much fun as a girl can have in one night." She gathers her things and gets up. Kevin implores her to stay, apologizing and promising he'll be charming: "I'll be ebullient, even. I feel the ebullience coming on." Lily, pulling on a cute leopard coat: "I've never liked cleanup committee." Kevin: "Look, I was horrible to her, okay? I have some residual guilt. You of all people should understand." Lily: "A quick story before I go, okay? Um, the reason I became a nun is because after the second time I stole money from my blind grandmother to run away from home to join a surfing colony, I decided that I was such a horrible person that no normal remedy could save me. Thinking you're the worst person in the world is no different than thinking you're the best. It's giving yourself a place in the universe you haven't earned." You go, girl. Boy, does Kevin ever need to hear that. She grabs her bag: "Thanks for dinner." Hmm. That might be the end of my little daydream of Grace and Lily as super-cool sisters-in-law. Unless Joan and Grace hook up. I'm just saying.
It's night time. Joan's with Roger at the bookstore -- which she really seems to have the run of -- and she's reading the last verse Byron's "When We Two Parted" in the most halting, monotonous, uninspiring way: "In secret we met-- / In silence I grieve / That thy heart could forget, / Thy spirit deceive. / If I should meet thee / After long years, / How should I greet thee?-- / With silence and tears." Well, that's subtle. Joan groans: "Honestly, how much worse are the Backstreet Boys?" Yeah, they're definitely mad, bad, and dangerous to know. Roger says she's taking it out of context: "And reading it like you're on Nyquil." Great, now I'm forced to agree with The Skeeve -- whose current bowling shirt looks like it reads "God" -- I swear. It's probably "Joel" or "Joe" or something, but it looks like "God." Joan: "But they're so seriously dull!" She wants Roger to just tell her how to write the paper. Roger: "And let you miss the point of Byron? Couldn't live with myself." Joan reminds him the last time he tutored her, he told her this was just a game. Roger: "Well, this is different. Look, there are very few things worth learning about, and poetry happens to be one of 'em." Frink snorts: "Please." Me: "Could you just not be an engineer for, like, five minutes?" Roger, whose shirt does in fact read "Joe," urges her, "Think of it: people devoted their lives to putting beautiful puzzles of words together. Byron, for example, was a lord. Wealthy man. He could have done anything with his life, but he devoted it to this…and a few bacchanalian orgies." Joan laughs. Roger finds a poem and moves to Joan to read it, while she watches him out of the corner of her eye, wondering what's going on: "'She walks in beauty, like the night / Of cloudless climes and starry skies; / And all that's best of dark and bright / Meet in her aspect and her eyes." Frink: "Woo-oo-oo." Me: "Shut up." Joan: "Well, when you put it that way…" He tells her that poetry is the only language worthy of love: "Except, of course, the physical language." Joan seems uncomfortably squirmy. He asks if she's okay; she says she's fine. He asks if there's "trouble in paradise," meaning her relationship with Adam. Joan claims they're great. He then tells Joan about his high school girlfriend and how sure he was that they'd get married, and how they made plans to go to college together. Joan, troubled: "Did she die?" Heh. Roger says she met someone else, but he was already sort of seeing someone else -- I'll just bet, Skeeve -- and it fell apart after graduation. Joan thinks that's terribly sad. Roger shrugs it off, saying it's just high school: "It's not supposed to last forever." They sit there in nervous, awkward silence for a bit until Joan decides she should be getting home. Roger offers to drive her, but Joan insists she loves the bus, and she has to lock up anyway. Roger presses her a little about whether she's sure, and then finally skeeves off. Joan watches him go. Honestly, what does she see in that guy? He's a dishclout to Adam. Actually, The Skeeve would probably make an excellent Paris in a modern rendition of Romeo and Juliet: pretty, a bit vapid, with a thing for the child bride.
After the commercials, it looks like Mrs. Gross is back, because we see a woman with a mole the size of Connecticut on her chin. Imagine you're named Mrs. Gross and you have a huge mole on your chin. Would you…become a teacher? Especially a high school teacher? Seriously, now. She surveys the class, which is taking a test. Joan lapses into another daydream.
This time, she and Adam are at some big opening of one of his art shows. She's wearing a red sheath with thin straps, and has her hair pulled back and worn long. She swans over to Adam, who's wearing a suit, saying, "Darling, everything is lovely." She kisses him on the cheek as he tells her he's sold twelve paintings already. Joan: "I knew you would." Suddenly a waiter comes up offering chicken wings, mini-pizzas, or "awesome chimichangas." It's Stevie. Since when do swanky art galleries serve this kind of soccer mom fare? As if. There's the sound of a car screeching to a halt as Joan notices Stevie's beaming face. Joan: "Hold on. Not her." Adam: "Jane…" Joan: "This is my fantasy! She's not in it!" Stevie: "I'm just trying to help, Ads!" Adam says, "You heard my wife," as Joan wiggles her ring finger at Stevie. Stevie vamooses. Adam asks, "More champagne, sweetie?" Joan: "Oh, if it's free." He takes off to get it, while Joan prowls around and "makes" Stevie trip and her tray go flying. Frink: "They should have had her twinkle her nose like in Bewitched when she did that." Joan smiles as Stevie looks up with food on her face. Behind her, she's handed a glass of champagne with the comment, "Here you are, my love." When she looks around, it's Roger handing it to her. He asks, "Surprised?"
She comes out of the daydream when Grace hits her in the head with a piece of paper. She hisses at Grace, "What is it?" Grace gestures to the hallway, where Adam and Stevie are yakking about something. Joan tells Mrs. Gross she needs a hall pass. The teacher points out they're in the middle of a test. Joan insists she has to go: "It's a medical condition." Since when do people get to leave during a test?
But Joan's in the hallway with her pass within moments, running around looking for Adam and Stevie. She runs into a hall monitor, who asks for her pass. She shows it, asking if he's seen a guy in a knitted cap go by with a disgustingly cute girl. The hall monitor, a dweebish type, says, "Every day. That's the whole school." Joan: "No, they were different." She takes off as he says, "You seem lost, Joan." Frink: "Everyone hates this God." She comes running back. "I'm not lost, God. It's just that while I'm working on this bogus extra credit thing, my boyfriend is starring in Who Wants A Perky Blonde Assistant?" I'll bet that's a reality show on Fox year. Hall Monitor God asks if Joan's threatened by Stevie. Joan claims she's not. Hall Monitor God: "No? Is that why you made her fall into a plate of chicken wings?" Joan says she told him to stay out of her daydreams: "Is it so wrong to imagine stuff?" Hall Monitor God: "No, it's not wrong…" Joan argues that if Byron hadn't let his mind wander, we wouldn't have his fabulous poetry, "which is actually really boring, except for the one Roger read to me…wow." Hall Monitor God: "Roger looks good in a tux." Except Roger wasn't wearing a tux in the daydream; he was wearing a regular suit. Joan: "Again with the spying." Hall Monitor God: "Dreams influence and accentuate life, but they don't define it." Joan complains that he was the one who told her to study Romantic poetry. Hall Monitor God: "Study it, yes, so you could understand it, differentiate it." Joan asks if she's losing Adam. Hall Monitor God: "People don't really belong to each other, Joan, regardless of what contract they sign. They choose each other every day. But if you're worried, why not just ask him? Run along, you haven't finished the test." Why do I get the feeling he's not talking about the one in English class?
Lily's in the Girardi kitchen, rummaging for food and telling Helen she takes it that Helen's not reconsidering the Church. I'll bet she's wondering if Helen's going to call her on the carpet about her date with Kevin. Helen says she hasn't slammed the door on confirmation, but she misses talking to Lily: "I consider you a friend." She continues, looking out the window over the sink: "I really don't know how to say this…" Lily -- who's wearing a very Joan-esque scarf wound around her neck -- winces and dives in: "Look, he asked me. And nothing happened. In fact, I walked out on him because he's still hung up on his ex." Helen doesn't know what Lily's talking about. Lily asks Helen what she's talking about. They answer the questions at the same time, Helen saying she's concerned about Will and Lucyfer and Lily spilling the beans about her date. Helen: "What?" Lily: "Are you kidding?" Helen: "Wait. You definitely first." Lily reiterates everything, adding that Kevin was rude, and it's a non-issue, concluding with, "Will's having an affair with his boss?" Helen: "Oh, I don't know, I…maybe I'm imagining things…he was rude?" Hee. Lily says Helen's story trumps hers. Helen thinks she's jumping to conclusions, but she's sure something is going on: "I met her, and I just had this feeling that she was --" Lily chortles: "Evil?" Helen's uncomfortable: "I don't really use that word." Lily, ransacking the fridge: "Well, you mi-i-i-ight want to think about starting, 'cause it's out there." Helen: "Well, evil's all ugly and fire-breathing. She isn't that way." Mmm. You don't know her like Will knows her, obviously. Lily: "Are you kidding? Evil is charming and beautiful. It makes you doubt yourself. It asks for one small compromise after another until it whittles you down. And it functions best when no one believes in it." Helen wonders how she's supposed to fight her. Lily: "Talk to Will." Helen says she can't: "He thinks she's great, and that I'm just being paranoid…which is…probably true." Lily: "Really." Helen avoids Lily's skeptical look. Lily: "Yeah, no, I'm sure you are not intuitive. You're just a woman, and an artist." Don't forget "mother."
It's a dark and stormy night. Isn't it always? Joan's wandering around the bookstore reading more poetry: the last verse of "She Walks in Beauty." "And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, / So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, / The smiles that win, the tints that glow, / But tell of days in goodness spent, / A mind at peace with all below, / A heart whose love is innocent!" She's not reading it like she's on Nyquil this time, but she's not being schmoopy about it either. Roger asks what it means to her. Joan: "It means he loves her because she's not a skank." Roger laughs: "Exactly. His love for her is perfect because he hasn't taken it from the unreal into the real. Which is the only way that love can remain perfect." A major crack of thunder and lightning, and the power goes out. Roger mutters something about it being the ghost of Byron. He asks for a flashlight; she says there are candles in the cabinet. Just what you'd have in a store full of paper: something to help the whole place go down in flames. They rummage for things, giggling nervously as their hands touch in the candle box. I feel ill. They start lighting candles as Roger says, "This is probably why the Romantics were so inspired: no electricity." Yeah, it was definitely that and not the laudanum. Joan says, "So, um…people aren't supposed to act on their love?" Roger looks at her. She stammers, "Getting back to the uh, uh, poem. I mean, we're just supposed to dream about it?" Roger: "Whatever we pull from dreams into reality is tainted by experience." He clears his throat. "Love is no exception. However, that's no reason to avoid it." Joan says she's not avoiding it: "I mean, obviously, I'm not avoiding it. I'm in love. With Adam." Roger: "Right."
They're standing to shelf full of candles now. They share an awkward silence for a moment and then Joan says she thinks she gets it, and can write the paper. She says he's been very helpful. The Skeeve moves in for the kill: "People say men are unfaithful because they don't feel needed. And women are unfaithful because they don't feel loved." Joan's avoiding looking at him. She laughs nervously, saying, "It's raining really hard now." Roger: "Do you feel loved?" If she doesn't, she's an idiot. She looks up at him -- her fingers on her neck -- and says softly, "Yes." He presses: "Do you feel loved enough?" I definitely feel sick. Frink: "How old is she now?" Roger: "Because you deserve it." She doesn't know what to say and is obviously pretty susceptible right now. He leans down -- way down, he's about a foot and some taller than she -- and kisses her. Eccchhh. Joan lets him but then pulls away slightly, and puts her hand over her mouth vertically. It's a great gesture, combining horror with regret and refusal. She finally moves her hand, shaking her head slightly and saying, "You have to leave." He says, almost inaudible: "Joan." She moves away, saying, "This, uh…this didn't happen." She says she's going home. Roger says he's going home: "But…this did happen." He walks out, leaving her there. She lets go of her books as the reality sinks in a little further.
At home, Helen's in the kitchen working on a collage project for class. Kevin comes in, saying he's starving: "Do we have anything fried, or in the burrito family?" Helen's response: "Hey, tell me something: where do you get off being rude to Lily?" Kevin's expression changes and he says, "Not as hungry as I thought." He wheels away as Helen sighs, "She's very vulnerable in the area of dating. You could have scarred her for life." That, I very much doubt. Kevin: "Mom, I don't discuss this stuff with you." Helen says Lily's her friend. Kevin claims Lily's the one who hit on him. Helen: "You could have said no. You should have." Kevin: "See? This is precisely why I don't date nuns." Helen declares that a "very good policy" as Kevin takes off and Joan comes in, soaked to the skin. Guess she doesn't love the bus as much as she told Roger. Helen notes she's home early. Joan tells her about the power failure. Helen says she would have come and picked her up. Helen notices Joan's soaking wet. Joan says she's fine: "Don't fuss." Joan looks at the pictures spread all over the kitchen island and asks, "What's all this?" Helen: "I assigned a collage for the class. It's harder than I remember, trying to keep it edgy and creative and not like the placemats we make our parents in kindergarten." She comes over with a towel for Joan's hair and starts drying it for her as Joan asks, "Where's Dad?" Helen says he's still at work. Joan: "He's been working so much lately. What's he going for, cop of the year?" Helen says nothing. Joan picks up a picture and asks, "Were you married here?" Helen says it's a picture of them on their honeymoon in Niagara Falls. "Unoriginal, but fun." That's where my parents went, too. It's a really weird picture, black and white -- and they totally look Photoshopped together. And like they were then pasted on an old image of Niagara Falls. I don't think I believe that many people were still many taking black and white photos some twenty-two years ago. Especially on their honeymoon -- wouldn't you pop for colour? Anyway. In his big moustache and flannel shirt, Will looks like he got lost on his way to a Village People concert. Helen just has too much hair.
Suddenly Joan's face caves in and she starts crying and whimpering. She pulls the towel over her head as Helen asks what's the matter. Frink: "Look, it's a terrycloth burqa." It's almost the right colour, too: the grey-blue towel looks like a faded Afghan burqa. Joan just shakes her head under the towel and says, "Nothing." They sit down as Helen persists, lifting the towel to peek inside. Joan takes the towel off her head and asks when Helen knew she was going to marry her father. Helen: "About a week before the wedding. I kept breaking up with him." Joan: "Why?" Helen says she thought marriage was so predictable: "I thought it would be the end of my life." Joan: "So why did you do it?" Helen: "Because I couldn't not do it. My future was…connected with his. What, I was gonna let somebody else have that smile for the rest of her life?" Joan just looks unhappy. Helen: "This is the kind of thing that usually makes you squirm." Joan: "I'm squirming on the inside." Hee. Helen smiles: "Sweetheart, love is complicated…way more complicated than driving a car, which you're just barely old enough to do." Joan: "I know that I love Adam." Helen says that doesn't mean Joan's going to spend her life with him. She quickly adds, "And it doesn't mean that you aren't. It just means you can't know that now. So just enjoy your time together." Joan gets up to walk out, and then stops, saying, "It must be nice to know you found the guy who's gonna love you forever and that he can't ever leave you for some perky blonde and that you're not gonna kiss some guy by candlelight just because he has blue eyes and quotes poetry." She pauses, looking at her mother with some apprehension after spilling all that, and then says, "Good night." Helen uncharacteristically leaves Joan's confession alone, looking at the pictures of her and Will all over the table.
After the commercials, Helen's fallen asleep over her collage. She wakes up when Will comes in and asks, "How bad is it?" Will says nothing, unsure of what she's talking about. Helen: "My collage." As Will takes a seat, she says, "I know, it's sentimental and obvious and…it's not art." Will picks up a picture as Helen says, "It's a lot to throw away." Will looks at her, concerned: "Helen…" She replies, "Did you think I wouldn't notice the effect she's having on you? Even if you were a good liar -- which you aren't." He insists nothing happened: "Believe me." Helen: "I know what you mean when you say that, but every time you turned to her instead of me, something happened." Will: "I would never have had an affair with her…with anyone. But she did get to me in a way…I…can't understand it; I don't expect you to. She has a way of twisting things -- she uses logic like a weapon." Helen: "Evil." Will: "That's your language, not mine." Man, I've met damn few cops who don't believe in evil. Come on, Will. Helen snaps: "What word would you use?" Will: "I don't know. But I know I can't look at her now -- the things she's done…" He pauses, and then tells Helen: "She had Judith's killer executed because she thought I wanted it. She delivered it to me like a gift, and now she holds me accountable. She's dangerous, Helen." Helen says he has to turn Lucyfer in. Will says he can't prove anything: "I've tried. In her mind we collaborated, I was a partner." Helen's appalled: "How could you let this happen?" Will: "Well, there's something I haven't pondered." Helen's in no mood for sarcasm: "Hey! All I want from you is humility. Anything else -- you are on your own." Will: "You're right. I'm sorry." He kneels on the floor to her chair and leans his forehead against hers. They embrace each other as the camera drifts out of the room.
Kevin comes into the coffee shop and wheels over to Lily's table. What, exactly, does Lily do for a living? I mean, she's not a nun anymore, and she seems to have any amount of free time. Is being a catechism teacher a paying job? I sort of got the feeling it was a volunteer thing. I would just like to know how she supports herself. Kevin: "You told my mother?" Lily: "I thought she was onto us. I blurted. I'm a nun. I've got this thing about lying." Kevin reminds her she's not a nun anymore: "And it's not lying to keep your private life private." Lily: "We don't have a private life! We had one date. So just…roll on, bright eyes." Frink bursts out laughing. "I'm working, here." Kevin persists: "Look, I have never met anybody like you, and I don't know how I feel about it." Lily: "About what?" Kevin: "You talking to me like I'm not even…" Lily: "God's gift to the human race?" Ha! Kevin doesn't say anything. Lily: "Look, you're handsome. You're used to that working for you. But it doesn't work on me. Men are fine, but I've lived the cloistered life, and it's not so bad." Kevin: "Is that how you see me? Some vapid, cocky, handsome guy?" Lily: "Yep." Kevin: "Wow. Thanks." She exhales a small laugh. Kevin: "Where does the chair come in?" She thinks for a moment and says, "Every guy is broken in some way or other. At least yours is obvious." He nods. Lily: "Um…I'll, uh, buy you a girly drink…what -- what was it? Was it, like, a pink lemonade soy smoothie with sprinkles?" Kevin gets all manly: "Uh…double espresso." She pretends to stand corrected: "Oh." Kevin: "Make it a triple." Lily: "Knock yourself out, stud."
Lischak's back! Frink: "Woo hoo!" I read that Elaine Hendrix had appendicitis, which is why we haven't seen her for a while. Glad she's better. She's all blonde now, instead of the two-tone hair. She looks less harsh. She smacks her pointer on her desk and starts lecturing the class: "Strong force is stronger than electromagnetic force, which is a thousand times stronger than weak force. Though weak force is only marginally weaker than strong force when you consider it's billions of times stronger than gravitational force, which is the weakest force." Grace, Joan, and Adam seem bored senseless. Lischak asks, "Do I really need to repeat this?" And then, without waiting for an answer, she proceeds to do so. Joan glances at Adam, who's slumped over his desk with his head in his arms, and then drifts into another daydream.
This time, we start at the point where Adam's telling her he's sold twelve paintings already. She says, "That's really great," as the camera pulls out and we see that she's the waiter, instead of Stevie. She holds up a tray of chicken wings, which he declines. As she walks past him, he asks, "Don't I know you?" Attempting to be casual, she says, "Oh, we had a class in high school." Adam: "Janet, right?" She says, "Joan, but you used to call me Jane." He asks, "Why'd I do that?" Hee! I get that question from y'all in email a lot. Joan doesn't have a chance to explain before Stevie prances over in the red sheath Joan was wearing in the daydream, saying, "Sorry, darling, I was off somewhere being shallow." And we can see the huge painting behind her is now of Stevie, of course, not Joan. Adam introduces her: "My wife, Stevie Marx." She corrects him: "Stevie Marx-Rove, you silly!" Adam suddenly says to Joan, "Oh, I remember you! We dated in high school." Joan smiles and nods: "Right." Adam: "Yeah, I was all into you. How'd it go wrong?" Joan tries to maintain a pleasant expression as she says, "I don't know." Adam: "Wait…I remember. You kissed Roger." Stevie: "You kissed Roger? Roger the janitor?" She gestures, and Joan looks behind her at Roger, in a grey jumpsuit, mopping near the door. Geez. Class issues, much, Joan? Joan turns back to Adam and Stevie and says weakly, "He's trying to be a poet." Adam wants to know why she kissed him. Joan says she doesn't know. Adam keeps asking her: "Why would you kiss Roger? Why did you kiss him?" Joan keeps saying she doesn't know, until suddenly the daydream ends and she's shouting in Lischak's class: "I don't know! I don't know!"
Lischak whacks the desk with her pointer and asks, "Pre-emptive ignorance, Ms. Girardi? I haven't asked a question." Grace and Adam are both staring at her. Grace is looking more than a little freaked. Joan: "Sorry."
Helen wanders into Will's office, saying she thought he could use a lunch break. He seems pleased and surprised to see her, wondering how she got away. Before she can answer, Lucyfer's there: "Sorry…Helen, how good to see you. How's it going?" Helen: "That depends…on whether or not you're trying to steal my husband." Ha! You should have heard the hooting in our living room when she busted that out. Lucyfer's too dumsquizzled to say anything; that's a pitch she definitely didn't see coming. Helen: "I want to take him to lunch." Lucyfer: "Well, of course. I only need him a second." Helen smiles: "Then I'll wait."
Will follows her into her office, where she introduces him to Paul Brumfield, some guy from the Commissioner's office. This looks like somebody will be running a flower shop sooner than he thinks. She says, "No way this is gonna be easy so I'll just dive right in…look, Will, as much as I have admired you as a detective and as much as I've enjoyed my tenure here, I've…I've received an offer from…uptown that I simply can't refuse." Will: "How far uptown?" Lucyfer: "Washington. Justice Department." Frink: "Huh. Crime does pay." Brumfield says, "The writing was on the wall after the Karpovich case." Will: "Sure. The feds had to be happy with that. Lucy[fer] sacrificed a lot to deliver that narcotics bust." Lucyfer smoothly comments, "Will and I were never quite on the same page about that one." Will: "I like to do things more, you know…legal…and less…what's the word…insidious?" He looks at Lucyfer, who tries to keep smiling. Brumfield: "Am I missing something here?" Just a few screws if you're really hiring her. Lucyfer tries to chuckle as neutrally as possible: "Mm. I'm afraid the detective's not very happy that I'm leaving." She asks Brumfield to give them a moment. He agrees and leaves. Will, man, are you crazy? Let the psycho go.
Once he's gone, Lucyfer asks, "Detective Girardi…what the hell's your problem?" Man, she really is a piece of work. Will: "Where to begin? But let's just narrow it down to you." She asks if it's so hard to give her this victory: "Really, Will. Be a man." He replies, "I am a man, Lieutenant Preston, and one who's capable of exercising considerable restraint. Because usually when I encounter something this evil, I take a swing at it. But in this case I'll just say goodbye, and thank God you're somebody else's problem." Lucyfer just keeps smiling the fakest smile ever as Will walks out saying, "I believe we're done, don't you?"
He walks back to his office looking pretty smug. Helen: "What?" He tells her about Lucyfer's promotion: "She's going to Washington." Helen: "Oh…I think she's gonna like it there." They laugh and walk out with their arms around each other. The camera drifts across Lucyfer's face as she watches them go. So…that's it? And if so…really, was it worth it? Whatever. Don't let your pointy little tail get caught in the door on your way out.
Joan's shelving books in the children's section of the bookstore when she hears Little Girl God's voice reading, "'…lived happily ever after.' There's a surprise." Joan turns around to see Little Girl God in a lavender paper crown, a pink sweater with a big red heart on it, pink gingham skirt, multicoloured pink tights, and pink rubber boots, sitting in a bean bag chair. She adds, "You guys really like that ending." Joan: "Yeah, well, you have a better one?" Little Girl God: "'They all moved toward spiritual growth and enlightenment'?" Joan: "Yeah. That's gonna work with the kids." Little Girl God asks, "Ever notice the guy always has to risk his life and the girl is nearly dead when he finds her? It takes a kiss to wake her up, and they ride off together." She says it's a nice metaphor for death and resurrection. Joan thinks that's a fun party game. Little Girl God elaborates: "It happens all the time. The illusion dies so that something deeper can take its place." Now Joan's interested; she wanders over and sits down in front of her: "Are you saying that…Adam and I are an illusion?" Little Girl God explains, "Romance serves a purpose. It's a meditative state. It puts logic to sleep so that people can come together. Otherwise you guys probably wouldn't risk it." Joan wants to know why God had to make love so complicated: "Couldn't that one thing have been easy?" Little Girl God: "Love is big. It's a bright light in the universe. And a bright light casts a big shadow. So what do you want to do, Joan?" Joan exhales sharply: "How am I supposed to know?" Little Girl God gets up and hands Joan the book she was reading, saying, "By looking at it. Real love is hard work. You have to decide if you want it in your story. Or…if you'd rather just stay in the dream." Little Girl God takes off with a Godwave. Joan opens the book, The World of Ripple Pond, to the last page, where the damsel and knight are on the back of a white horse, kissing. If she starts a daydream where she's wearing a wimple and is on the back of a mighty steed with Adam, I'm outta here.
Joan arrives at Adam's shed. He's happy to see her; he thought she was still working. She replies, "I, uh, closed up…early." She sees Stevie come out from behind Adam's work table. "Hey, Joan…I was just helping Ads with his collage for your mom's class." As she starts to leave, she thanks Adam for their "talk." She leaves. The second she's gone, Joan says, "Your talk?" Adam: "Yeah." Joan: "You're really gonna make me ask?" He says it was in confidence. Joan: "Adam!" Adam caves: "She's in love." Joan just stares. He adds, "With Friedman." Joan: "What?" Adam: "Yeah, I know. And she's totally about him, and she wants me to talk to him. Is that insane? Who would ever think? Friedman." Joan's lost interest in that already, having noticed Adam's collage project. She moves a roll of wire mesh to take a closer look; she seems pretty dumbstruck. It features lots of pictures of her alone and with Adam, surrounding a series of frames layered in a complicated way and wound with tulle or something. I'm not describing this very well, but…cut me some slack. I've been recapping for hours, here.
Adam asks, "Do you like it?" She still doesn't say anything. Do you feel loved enough yet, Joan? He comes over to her and sees that she's got tears in her eyes: "What is it?" She says, "I was jealous. And scared. And confused." Adam: "Hey, I told you…" Joan: "No. So I kissed Roger." Adam doesn't say anything, and for once he looks more surprised than hurt. She continues, "Technically…he kissed me, but I didn't really try to stop him. It just sort of happened. Look, I don't care about him. I love you. I was just all freaked out and there was rain, and poetry…if you wanna break up with me I understand. But please…please don't."
He walks around, not saying anything. So when she doesn't instantly elicit his forgiveness, she attacks: "Adam…how can you blame me for thinking what I thought?" I haven't seen him blame you for much of anything yet. All I've seen is him trying to assimilate what you've just told him. "She's a perky blonde! Who hires a perky blonde as his assistant without even asking his girlfriend, without even discussing it?" ["Who is so needy that she needs to give her boyfriend permission to interact with perky blondes? The way she runs him is reeeeeally starting to grate." -- Sars] Adam still doesn't say anything. She barks, "Hey, look at me and tell me it was totally innocent!" He finally snaps back, "It wasn't, okay?" Now it's Joan's turn to be quiet. Adam: "She just liked me so much, and I didn't mind the idea of you being jealous, and it was like I was testing you, and it was crazy." Joan: "Testing me? Why?" Adam: "I don't know! Love, it…it's like a mental illness or something." Frink: "Amen, brother." Me: "You are so not allowed to watch this show with me anymore." Joan shakes her head as a tear rolls down her face: "'Puts all logic to sleep…otherwise [we] wouldn't risk it.'" She turns away and puts her fist up in front of her mouth. Adam comes around and puts his hands on her face and wipes her tears away as she sniffles. He eventually kisses her and she kisses him back, and it's more of an open-mouthed kiss than they usually go for. The camera's moved around to catch their reflection in the mirror that's in the centre of Adam's collage, so that their image looks like another photograph in the jumble of pictures. It's quite a beautiful shot.