OK, yet another bizarre sexless coupling. Brooke and Jamie, that college guy she met at the party, wake up together in his dorm room. It's not what you think. They fell asleep on his couch watching Conan O'Brien. With their clothes on. No wait, it is what you think. What is up with everyone on this show forgetting to have sex? I'm not trying to imply anything here, but it's really creepy how the heterosexuals on this show go out and stuff but no one seems to ever really want to have sex -- or even fool around in a big way. Brooke's bed head is really becoming though.
Brooke is all, "My Dad is going to freak!" Jamie tells her to just call her dad and tell him the truth -- one of those really good sensible ideas that rarely occur to the regular characters on this show. Brooke phones home. Sam answers. Her hair is nice -- bouncy and unfussy -- and she's wearing a white baseball jersey with kelley green sleeves, which is fine. But there's this thick coating of lilac iridescent eye shadow that totally ruins everything. She looks like she should be in one of those barely legal photo spreads where they dress some girl in her twenties up in something a normal teen girl should wear -- unicorn sweatshirt, pig tails, overalls -- but then they do her makeup like she's the mother of the bride in a Mafia wedding. What is up with that? Are they piling on the greasepaint in order to hide the fact that the girls are indeed legal and have been for many years or is the makeup intended to make the girl look older so these men who enjoy this sort of thing don't feel like total perverts? Sam wants to know why Brooke is calling her from inside the house. Since this indicates to Brooke that no one's noticed she stayed out overnight, she asks Sam to cover for her and make it look like she left for school early. "Just think of something," she says. Sam starts to tease Brooke about how in love with Jamie she is. She hangs up on her when Va-Jane-Ah enters, asking Sam where Brooke is this morning. Sam, off the top of her head, invents a special cheerleading practice for Brooke. "I didn't know that the Glamazons practiced in the morning," says Va-Jane-Ah. "Because they don't," says a disembodied male voice. It's Mike. He enters holding up Brooke's Glamazon uniform. I'm trying really hard not to think about what Mike is doing rummaging through Brooke's empty bedroom at eight in the morning while he thinks she's at school. "Start talking, Sam," says Mike. Okay, from the promos you'd think that this is the main plot and that Mary Cherry and/or Nicole were going to round out the episode with a frivolous but sort of half-assed subplot as they've been doing all season. Actually, this Brooke and Jamie thing is the subplot this week. And Nicole is the main plot. And she rocks.
Credits.
Coup
Principal Calvin Krupps' office. April Tuna, class president, Gus Latrine, her vice president, and that wheelchair-bound Alfalfa-esque guy that was shown briefly in "Style and Substance Abuse" LINKIT during the debate (I didn't mention him in the recap), are meeting with Krupps. An extracurricular activity needs to be cut and April is the one who has to "pull the trigger." April has this lesbian soccer mom look going on. That's the only way I can describe it. She's wearing one of those ski parkas that's cut in a sporty yet matronly way -- the kind of thing you see a Boulder, Colorado housewife like Patsy Ramsey wearing to the supermarket. An American-flag-themed scarf adorns her neck. She also has her hair pulled back in a Hillary Clinton-esque headband, but then it poufs out the back in this really strange helmet type way. I am in love with her all over again. Anyway, she's being one of those stereotypical women in charge who can't make decisions because doesn't want to let anyone down. You know how there's that Carol Gilligan theory that women make better businesspeople because they have the gift of empathy? Hi, anyone who has had a job in the United States can tell you that, in fact, women are good businesspeople because they can be just as power-hungry and aggressive as their male co-workers. People in charge who can't make decisions can be as empathetic as they want, but it's not going to make them better businesspeople -- unless they want to be teachers or social workers. "I can't pull the trigger of this Russian Roulette power play," she moans. "What she's trying to say," says Gus Latrine, "is that she doesn't have the cojones to cut one club." Principal Hall points out to April that being class president "isn't all book fairs and bake sales." Nicole bursts in, refers to April as "Hair pie" and demands to be made a Glamazon again. Principal Krupps turns her down. "I smell a slut in the room," says Gus Latrine. "Shut up, My Left Foot," says Nicole. Hee! Krupps calls her a "teen mantis" for the second time that day and tells her to get out of the room while they're talking about important school business. "Yeah," says Gus Latrine. "Wait outside 'til the mens are done." April looks down at the ground at the mention of "the mens." Nicole exits but she eavesdrops from the waiting room. Krupps mentions that the decision to cut a club must be made by the student council. April Tuna whines that "killing extracurriculars is not in my feminine nature. I'm a gatherer and a nest builder." Hee! Krupps wants her decision by Friday. "Don't worry," says Gus Latrine. "I'll make up her mind for her." Nicole smirks outside because has a plan.
Josh and Harrison are having lunch. Josh shows his sample college application form to Harrison, who remarks that Josh has no extracurriculars. Um, hello? Josh is on every sports team. He was the lead in South Pacific last year. He was just in Chem's VD play and Equus and is the vice president of "Kennedy Students Support GAYS AND LESBIANS Club. Does anyone in that writing pool have any concept of continuity? Harrison mentions that he too has no extracurriculars -- even though he's secretary of the Kennedy Students Support GAYS AND LESBIANS Club. They decide to join Emory Dick's John Travolta club because it requires no work and it won't be slashed by April Tuna week because Emory is April's boyfriend. Also, the club is called "Staying Alive," and Harrison points out that colleges will think it's some sort of Euthanasia club. Josh thinks Harrison is talking about Youth in Asia and thinks that would look "global" to college people. Shame on you, Popular writers, robbing jokes from the late Gilda Radner's character, Emily Litella.
The morning, Jane has apparently tapped into a mother lode of mother goddess-energy because she's still cleaning the kitchen. Sam enters and starts hounding her mother over her punishment, claiming it's unfair that Mike is giving her the same punishment as Brooke when Mike's not even her own father. "I thought you were the one in charge of disciplining me!" Jane points out that although her punishment was harsh, she still lied and deserved to be punished. "Mike might not be your father, but he's your parent," says Jane. "I thought both of you wore the pants in this house," says Sam. "I guess I was wrong." Mike enters. Sam snubs him and leaves for school. Jane rips into him, sorta, for punishing Sam without consulting her about it. She also says she feels that Brooke is mature and can probably handle herself with a college boy. "Would you be so hard on her if Brooke were a seventeen year-old boy?" And then, just to show Mike how powerful and determined women like her and Brooke can be, she starts beating up some eggs for breakfast.
April Tuna escorts Nicole into her office, which is located in the refrigerated room they use to cure meat for the cafeteria. "Yeah," says April, "ya get used to the frigid temp but the jerky smell never goes away." Hee! Nicole says that she thought the president's office was to the principal's office. April tells her that Krupps had her move downstairs because he needed to convert it into a large tanning booth. "Did you complain?" asks Nicole. "I didn't want to make waves," says April. Nicole is wearing this really awful outfit, actually. Tom_Ford_Sucks from the forums thinks (and he's probably right) that it's a shout-out to Charlotte Rampling's leather-studded fascist outfit in Night Porter, but I think it looks like she's trying to emulate Al Pacino in Cruising. Only, instead of leather and studs, it's velvet and rhinestones. And it just doesn't look good on Nicole. I guess this is supposed to be a statement about power or some such thing. Nicole replies that she knows just how April feels, since she never had the nerve to stand up to the other Glamazons back when she wanted to bring April in as choreographer. And while it's clever of Nicole to make it look like she was always looking out for April, it's totally inconsistent because they made April choreographer at the end of the "News Of My Death Has Been Greatly Exaggerated" episode. Nevertheless, April is feeling vengeful about not being Glamazon choreographer and jokes about "pulling the plug on those 'rexic prima donnas." Nicole, once she ascertains that there's a grain of truth in April's joke, warns her not to attack too soon or the enemy will come back stronger. April is impressed with this Machiavellian advice and asks her to be her "Dick Cheney." Nicole observes that "even Dick Cheney got something for his troubles." April summons Gus Latrine and fires him on the spot. Then she and Nicole send his wheelchair flying down the hall while singing, "Sisters are doing it for themselves." When the wheelchair crashes and Gus's body flies through the air, April asks Nicole to be her new vice president. Nicole accepts and they toast the auspicious event with their Fruitopias.