You Never Know

Peter Krause: So, um, I've been reading the papers lately, and I've decided that I deserve a raise.
Alan Ball: Okay. How much were you thinking?
Peter Krause: Oh, I don't know. How about $27 million a season?
Alan Ball: You're joking, right?
Peter Krause: Hey, I shaved my chest for you! The drain was clogged for a month!
Alan Ball: And this great nation of ours is eternally in your debt.
Peter Krause: I know! So pay up, motherfucker!

An opening shot of a nondescript man boiling water in his kitchen signals the triumphant return of the DGDJ. As is par for the course with these openings, we're teased with the possibility of a fatal gas explosion when the pilot light on his stove refuses to activate. Before he can relight it, however, Kitchen Man gets interrupted by a telemarketing call, and everyone's attention stays locked on the match that's slowly burning down in his hand -- at least until the guy on the phone screams, "Oh my God, he's got a gun!" that is. Cut to the call center, where a pasty-faced young man with a very large shotgun stalks through the office in that stutter-step Saving Private Ryan-o-Vision, carefully shooting every male employee he comes across. It's pretty powerful stuff, and it's all very well executed (pun totally not intended), although the stunt guys do get a little carried away with that machine that jerks people backwards when they get shot. Proving once again that the only real qualification necessary for running a call center is a complete and total lack of intelligence, the boss comes storming out of his corner office to ask, "What in the hell is going on out here?" You know, because the screaming and the wailing and the really loud gunshots weren't enough give it away. Or even inspire him to lock the door. Our angry young man (with his working-class Dockers and his radical plan) storms into the boss's office and dispatches him with a single blast from the shotgun. He tries to do the same with a secretary who's cowering in the corner, but fortunately for her, he's run out of ammo. Man, I'm betting this guy must have been a really lousy employee if he couldn't even remember to pack more than five shells into a gun that holds eight for his big final goodbye. At least he did remember to bring a pistol along. He contemplates using it on the secretary, but instead just shrugs and shoves the barrel into his own mouth. We cut back to a shocked and silent Kitchen Man just in time to hear the final gunshot though the phone, and then we slowly fade to white. Farewell Matthew Clark Hazen, Martin Jacobs, Andrew Wayne Milne, and Daniel Grant Showalter. Workplace violence is never funny. Not even when it happens to telemarketers.

Boy, that was just a big barrel of laughs, wasn't it? Yeah. So in the interests of lightening things up a bit before we continue with the recap proper, I'm pleased to announce the first winner (not counting the homepage -- The Boredello was tm phxchic) of our surprisingly popular "Name Nate & Lisa's Apartment" contest. It's Chico, with "Sinkhole de Maya." Which is appropriate, because we fade back up on Maya the Leviathan's giant, orthogonal cranium as she cavorts in a crib beside Nate and Lisa's bed. Which, by the way, seems to have gone from being a Family Bed to being The Bed of Overly Polite And Excessively Quiet Chipmunk Sex. Yep. that's right. Nate and Lisa are doing the nasty, if you can call anything "nasty" that involves use of the phrases "Are you sure you're comfortable?" and "Do you want to get on top?" You know the expression "She drives like old people fuck"? Well, Nate and Lisa fuck like old people fuck. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss Brenda already. Before we can leave this tender moment alone, however, the phone rings. The machine picks it up right away, and we get to hear one of those never-ever-as-cute-as- you-think-they-are messages new parents always have where they make the kid squeal into the phone on the off chance that one of the Powerpuff Girls might be calling to leave her a message. They also refer to themselves as the "Fisher Family," which will be mildly important in a few moments. It's Carol, of course, and she's calling because it's "the one hour a day [she] can eat carbs," and she's got a massive craving for corn mini-muffins. Mmm, corn mini-muffins. Yummy. Nate certainly seems to share my enthusiasm on this subject, because the sound of Carol's voice has inspired him to resume his rodent-like lovemaking with renewed vigor. The scene ends with him substituting a shouted "Don't make her the muffins! Don't make her the MUFFINS!" for "Oh, baby! Yes! Yes! YES!" Ew. Whatever turns you on, I guess.

David and Keith's Doormat-ory. David greets his lover in the kitchen with an enthusiastic morning serenade from Gilbert and Sullivan that features way too many "tra la las" for my tastes. Geez. If you're feeling that frisky, why not just throw him down on the tile floor and scream, "Don't make the bok choi! Don't make the BOK CHOI!"? Keith certainly seems to share my lack of enthusiasm on this subject, because he pleads that it's way too early for that sort of thing, and retires to the kitchen table to sew up a hole in his uniform. David apologizes, adding, "I just want to make sure I get it right. Some of the guys in this chorus are so good. One of them even recorded with Chanticleer." Um, he sang with a giant chicken? Well, that doesn't seem right. Excuse me while I click over to Google for a second. Ah, so that explains it. There's a actual chorus that's just named after the giant chicken. And here I thought I was all cool for remembering my high school Chaucer. Somewhere out there, Mrs. Weddell is laughing at me. Although a brief perusal of Chanticleer's homepage would seem to indicate that they're basically the Riverdancers of orchestral choir music, so I don't really feel bad for never having heard of them. It's still rock and roll for me, you know. Anyway, oversized roosters aside, Keith teases David a bit about singing in his sleep, and then admits that he tore his uniform while getting a Frisbee out of a tree. "That's what security guards do, David," he explains. "We help people." Heh.

Formaldehyde Fortress. Ruth is clipping coupons in the kitchen when Claire comes quietly down the steps. "Do you think you'd like Beef Blast Pizza Rolls?" she inquires of her daughter. Mmm, Beef Blast Pizza Rolls. Yummy. Boy, I've really got to start eating before I sit down to work on these recaps, don't I? Claire couldn't possibly be more repulsed by the idea of "Beef Blast" anything, and is so disgusted that she announces she won't even be coming home that night in protest. "Take a sweater," suggests an unexpectedly accepting Ruth.

Once Claire is out the door, the phone rings and is quickly picked up by the Fortress's answering machine. Ruth's flatly disembodied voice declares that the caller has reached "The Fisher Family," thereby providing a touching competitive counterpoint to Nate and Lisa's earlier answering-machine message claim to that title. It's Ruth's sister Sarah on the phone, and she's calling to check up on Ruth because she hasn't seen her for the longest time. She even invites her up to Topanga Canyon for a lovely afternoon of tribal dancing, body painting, and "Aunt May's German potato salad." "I know you always liked that," Sarah adds, presumably in reference to the potato salad. Ruth lets her hang up without answering, and then snits that Sarah was always the one who liked Aunt May's cooking. Dear Lord! What's wrong with these people? I mean, who doesn't like potato salad? In fact, I'm going to go eat some right now. Mmm, German potato salad.

Das Sargzimmer. Rico is working his first solo intake with the wife of Mr. Milne, who was DGDJ #3 and the unfortunately too-curious-for- his-own-good call-center manager from the opening scene. Oddly enough, she bears at least a passing resemblance to the wife of a former call-center boss of my own. You know, if you care. She cries, and laments the random unfairness of it all, and the most Rico can manage to console her is to pathetically nudge a box of Kleenex across the coffee table. Thanks, dude. Way to show you care! "And then there's telling the children," she sobs. "What should I say to them to make them feel better?" Obviously inexperienced in the ways of dealing with the living, Rico is completely at a loss for words. Before he can suggest his own rendition of "Only the Good Die Young," however, Nate enters and breaks the moment's tension. "Glad you could make it," snits Rico, but Nate kicks it right over into "gift" mode without so much as a single "shut up." Nate comforts the grieving widow with the healing power of his new pageboy hairstyle, and even offers to walk her to her car once everything is taken care of. Thanks, dude. Way to show your hair!

Ahh, yes. And now for the scene I've been dreading all week. Claire and JP are lying in bed at his place, talking the night away and telling stories about their high-school prom experiences. Claire admits that she didn't go to hers (I guess taking George Marykayletourneauitis probably would have been frowned upon), and JP confesses that he took one "Nancy Pollard," who "smelled like fried chicken." Heh. For my prom -- and again I'm not making this up -- I actually took a girl named Bobo. Yeah, that's right. My prom, my Bobo. We get the new season's first mention of DangerSlut when Claire reveals that the two of them spent prom night getting drunk on champagne in the school quad and saying "good-fucking-bye to high school." And then they made musical pants, professed their undying love for one another, and danced under the moonlight until dawn. Or maybe I just dreamed that last part. Claire elaborates some more on the melancholy memory of saying goodbye to the only life she'd ever known, and then sighs and wonders if she could "be any more pathetic." JP leaps to her defense, claiming variously that she's "sensitive," "perfect," and possessed of the "softest skin" he's ever touched. Oy. The guy is smooth, I'll give him that. Of course, that's mostly just because he had to wax his chest to make room for the giant bird tattoo, but still. He asks what time she has to get up, and even though the night is still young, Claire discovers that she has a class in three hours and hasn't even started the assignment. "You keep distracting me," she explains. "My hands are, like, magnetically drawn to your dick." Ew. Sigh. Ew. You know what? I'm just going to pretend that's because he accidentally smeared some of my...er, "Aaron Buchbinder's" ashes on there and she's somehow sensing a mystical connection. That's really, really gross, but it's the only way I can I make it through the scene, okay? "I have to read and critique some theoretical conceptual bullshit," she continues. Yeah. Substitute "watch" for "read," and I know exactly how she feels. "I know exactly how you feel," says JP, before adding that he dropped out of music school for exactly the same reason. Then he tells her she's "amazing," and leans in for another kiss. Hey! I once dropped out of film school! I think she's amazing! So how come Claire's hands aren't magnetically drawn to my dick? Sigh. Again. Fade to white.

Schrödinger's Flat (tm Brandi). Nate comes to the breakfast table to find Lisa already there, cleaning Maya's Dumbo-esque ears with a special baby-sized Q-tip. She helpfully exposits that they'll be having David and Keith over for dinner later that evening, but Nate seems reluctant, mostly because he sees David at work every day and he wasn't really "dying to spend quality time with Keith." Now someone in the forums (as they always, always do) has interpreted that sentiment to be homophobic, but I think it's safe to say that Nate simply just doesn't like Keith, especially after some of the things David has told him. And besides, no one shouted heterophobia when David didn't like Brenda. During their conversation on the subject, Maya reaches out for a lock of Lisa's hair and gives it a pretty hefty tug. Aww. Good girl! Now go do that to Daddy a few hundred times. With their plans for the evening thus settled, Nate mentions that he's noticed Lisa digging around in Maya's auditory canal like a dog who can't remember where she buried a bone. When he wonders aloud if she might not be applying too much pressure, Lisa is offended that anyone could ever possibly question her perfect parenting skills. This, of course, quickly causes things to degenerate into an argument, with Lisa calling Maya "[her] child" and Nate relying on the hoary old "I know I'm just the father here" gambit. Eventually he storms off to work without their resolving anything, and Lisa goes back to digging for buried treasure somewhere in the vicinity of Maya's tympanic membrane.

The Taj Banal (tm norweigangirl). Nate comes home (although we never actually did see him at work, which might be important later) and finds Lisa making polenta in the kitchen. Before they can settle their argument from earlier, however, Carol calls once again for her weekly dose of wacky shtick. This time she's at Mark Harmon and Pam Dawber's house in the mountains, and she needs tips on getting Robin Williams to shut up and stop insisting that he's a lovably cute alien from another planet. Yeah. Good luck with that, Carol. We've all been trying to get Robin Williams to shut up for years, and it hasn't worked any better than our efforts with Rico have. Carol also needs instructions on making Lisa's famous balsamic vinegar salad dressing, and Lisa reluctantly agrees to talk her through it. Nate decides that this would be the be the perfect time to kiss and make up, and while Carol rants and raves on the phone, he apologizes for getting angry that morning. Lisa apologizes as well, and I guess she must have a way about her that makes people not notice how much of a raving lunatic she is, because Nate proclaims that Maya has the best mom in the whole wide world. Yeah. In Crazy World, maybe.

Cut to art school, where Claire is chatting with the guy we were so briefly introduced to last week. She's telling him all about JP, and how he's the only guy she's ever met who actually seems to understand her. "That's cool," says Russell, through his flowing locks of greasy hair. "Not even my imaginary friends understand me." Heh. I totally know how he feels. None of my imaginary friends understand me, either. ["Ain't that the truth!" -- Alan Ball] The conversation continues in a similar vein, with Claire extolling the many virtues of JP ("He's sweet!" "He's hot!" "He's always a man to me!"), and Russell using clever self-deprecating humor to make it oh-so-painfully clear that he has a massive crush on the redheaded object of our mutual affection. Upon hearing that JP even has his own band, Russell feigns surprise and asks, "Oh my God, it's Keanu Reeves, isn't it?" "Actually it's this internet recapper guy," replies Claire. "Maybe you've heard of him?" After taking a moment to be extra sure that they've hammered home the fact that Russell is caring and sensitive while JP is sexy and dangerous, Claire offers to listen to him talk about his own love life for a while. "I'm not dating," he says. "No dating. In fact, I think I'm kind of allergic, actually. I start itching and I swell up and bleed profusely." Heh. He also says that Claire's assertion that Russell's a really great guy will be of little solace when "it's 2 in the morning and [he's] laying in bed and eating [his] fourth bowl of cereal and beating [himself] up over some stupid thing [he] said in the eighth grade." When Claire determines that his cereal of choice is Cap'n Crunch, she laughs and suggests that they might actually be twins. Wow. Substitute Golden Grahams, and we could be triplets. Although that does take me to sort of a scary Brenda & Billy kind of place, doesn't it? Yeah. Never mind.

Body Shoppe, Part Deux. Rico wheels in the Angry Young Man, and then Boss Man Milne sits up in his coffin in a truly creepy over-the-shoulder shot. "You've got to be kidding me," he complains. "What's he doing here?" AYM taunts his deceased boss for making the grievous mistake of actually firing him for cause, and then Rico taunts the Angry Young Man for making a giant hole in the back of his head. "Maybe I was trying to make a statement," responds AYM, not very convincingly. "Besides, it's really not my problem." "Oh yeah, nothing's your problem," snarks Mr. Milne. "You couldn't even show up to work on time." Hmm. Let's see here. Works in a call center? Frequently late with assignments? Blames everyone else for his problems? Oh, yeah. I think we've got another shout-out here. Thanks, Alan. You shouldn't have. "I don't know why I go to extremes," states AYM. "A guy can only take so much before he snaps." This just makes Rico even angrier than he already was. "Hey!" he shouts. "You know, we all have to deal with a lot of shit, all right? But when I snap I throw something, or punch a wall, or say 'fuck' a few hundred times. I don't pick up a shotgun and start killing people." "Yeah?" asks AYM, with an evil knowing smile. "So far."

Freddy Rodriguez: I want a fucking raise, fuckwad.
Alan Ball: Fuck you!
Freddy Rodriguez: No, fuck you!
Alan Ball: Do you want me to send you back to fucking Oh, Grow Up? Because I fucking will. You'll be saying goodbye to fucking Hollywood in ten fucking seconds flat, fuck-boy!

In case you haven't noticed that Rico has been doing pretty much all the work this season, we now we cut back to the barbecue, where David tells the others that "it feels so good to sit here doing absolutely nothing." They make some small talk about Keith's job, but then Lisa stirs things up by asking how the couples counseling is going. Whoops. We get awkward looks from all three guys at the table, and then David tries to cover by saying, "We're not fighting so much. I mean, we never really fought...that much." "Nate and I never fight," claims Lisa, which Keith finds very hard to believe. Nate -- who is acutely aware of his husbandly duties this week -- immediately backs Lisa up on this assertion. He also says that having a baby in the house puts everything in perspective, and helps them keep things calm. Unless there's a Q-tip involved, of course. Then it's like two pit bulls with only one piece of steak. "You'll see when you have kids," Lisa tells them. "If we have kids," replies Keith. Uh oh.

Suddenly, Carol arrives to join them, saying that she came home early because "there's nothing to do" up in the mountains. "At least no one parks in my driveway there," she adds. Hee! Lisa tries to explain that she's in the middle of a dinner party, but Carol insists on having cinnamon toast immediately, because she just had to deal with her "most bitter enemy." Said enemy is then revealed to be Melissa Gilbert, which is pretty funny on its own, but it's even funnier when you realize that the cast of Six Feet Under was up on stage accepting a Screen Actors Guild award at almost the exact moment that line was aired. (Melissa Gilbert, of course, is the current president of SAG. I'm sure there's a really good story behind that, and I really wish someone would tell me what it is.) "You're not listening to me," complains Lisa, as she tries again to explain to Carol that she has company. "Honey, I heard you," Carol answers. "You're having a party. They've had you all day; I need you right now. These are the times to remember, young lady, because they will not last forever. Now, bring my toast up to my bath, and I'll tell you how I made Melissa cry."