Finally, we get the famed second episode of Undeclared, the one Fox skipped in order to bring us "Eric Visits" a week sooner. It should have aired after Lizzie and Steven's sex romp in the pilot, in which Lizzie also had a phone fight with her boyfriend Eric, and Steven found out his parents would be divorcing imminently.
As Heath snuggles under his comforter, Steven yips excitedly into the telephone, spreading the word about spreading his seed. This is a boy who dropped his virginity under the bed and isn't terribly concerned about where it's hiding. "Guess what?" Steven asks. "I did it! I did the deed!" Steven makes a face. "Yes, with a girl," he sighs. Which seems funnier now, what with the implied Cher-goat sex in "Hell Week." Steven, the freshly minted stud of his old posse, is clearly fielding all the important questions from his curious pal. "It sure seemed like it took a long time," Steven replies to an unheard query. "Maybe...two and a half minutes, or so? It was wicked." Heath, awake, shakes his head and tries to disappear. Steven winds up for the big finale. "Here it is! I have a girlfriend," he breathes triumphantly. "Lies, lies, lies," groans Heath. Steven quickly ends the call and asks Heath to explain his skepticism. Heath grouchily explains that sex doesn't translate to a relationship, a tenet to which he's likely clung tightly ever since his randy youth, when he discovered how to play doctor with the thermometer in his pants. Steven naïvely contends that this is different -- this is a special bond, the kind only two recent virgins can share. Heath snorts that there's no way Lizzie was a virgin, and that if Steven doesn't take her temperature again very soon, she'll cool off -- and the whole mercurial night will be but a faint memory of Lizzie jabbing herself with a toothpick to test her doneness. Steven's spine curls slightly. His roommate asks if he's at least made a follow-up move. Steven's spine shoots erect with relief and he bubbles that he's completely taken care of it. "Trust me, I made a move in a big way," he grins.
Cut to Lizzie holding up a stuffed bear clutching a big, red, satin heart. "Look, he left this for me," she half-moans, her face a mix of guilt, affection, and embarrassment. And it's pretty unbelievably geeky-sweet, but yet it's also something I could see Eric doing. Except the bear's head would be missing, and in its place would be a laminated color copy of Eric's. And it would be a real heart. Rachel gurgles that Steven is adorable, so she doesn't understand Lizzie's big quandary. "I have a boyfriend!" Lizzie gasps. "Yeah, like a hundred miles away!" scoffs Rachel. She doesn't understand Lizzie's reluctance to cheat, given her and Eric's decision to have an open relationship. Lizzie visibly crumbles. "No, come on, don't become one of those roommates who's always crying over her boyfriend," Rachel warns. "I can't live with that." Easy, brat. This isn't about you. Go take some Gingko. Oh, and by the way, as people have pointed out, the girls do have a suite at this point, so they had one all along. I am either extremely unobservant, or my brain has been addled by all the poisonous rays that are coming out of the television and slowly killing me.
The Steve Zahn-type RA, Lucien, rounds the corner with a pretty blonde girl we know as Amy Poehler (from SNL, most recently). She is not Amy Sedaris, so please don't call her that, as she prefers to use her own name. Lucien is wowed that a simple household item like shampoo bottles can be turned into bongs. "Yeah, you can make a bong out of anything -- a shampoo bottle, an apple..." she tells him. Lucien drools that she's incredibly smart, and invites her into his room to work on his time capsule -- and amazingly, it's not a euphemism. Ron and Heath walk by and greet Lucien, so their RA politely introduces Amy as Hillary, the dorm's head RA. Hillary eats up Heath with her eyes, slinking toward him and cutting off the introduction with a pointed "I've heard a lot about you." Heath beams angelically. "Hi there. I'm Ron," says Ron flatly. Hillary shoots him a taut and unimpressed half-smile before once again locking glances with Heath, or as she likes to call him, "dinner." Hillary heaves that the transatlantic transition must be agony for a wee precious freshman Brit like Heath, and offers to counsel him should he need anything -- like, say, an orgasm to help him navigate through this cruel foreign campus. "I'm in room 1016, top floor," Hillary says sweetly. "Because we like it on top," she adds, her eyes briefly darkening with The Dirty, as if promising to ride Heath so hard he ends up back in England with wicked saddle burns. She cackles as Heath reacts politely. "It's just a motto...that I made up," she fake-downplays. "We're making sweatshirts. It's gonna be really cool when they come back from the printer." I love that. Cutesy apparel such a dorm thing. We had a women's dorm called Knott Hall that the administration decided to turn into a men's dorm, so when the first crop of male residents picked their Interhall Sports name, they wanted to be the Beavers. The Knott Beavers. Get it? Yeah, so did the administration, so it never happened. Instead, they're the Knott Juggernaut -- the Knott Juggs, for short. Cute, eh? Three cheers for repressed and horny Catholic boys!
While Hillary mentally tears off Heath's shirt and rubs her chest with it, Lucien retreats into his lair, proving that even the foggiest mind can clearly tell when a handjob is not on the horizon. "My door's always open," Hillary purrs to Heath. She offers Ron a tart, perfunctory "Ron," before bolting down the hall and into the stairwell. Ron is dumbfounded that the head RA wants to shag his roommate, and Heath smarmily revels in his good luck. But Ron begs him not to. "If she turns on you, she can use her powers to destroy us both!" he wails. Heath thinks she's cute, but Ron figures she's just nuts. "Hey, idiot," he says. "Don't dip your pen in the...OW!" Heath smacks him on the arm. By now, they've traveled pretty far from the stairwell, but Hillary still pops out and yells, "Hey tough guys -- no fighting in the halls, or I'll write you guys up!" But she's kidding, and she giggles and snorts her way back down the hall.
Celibacy Row. I would remark that I think it's a different exterior, but my observational track record isn't so good, it seems. Steven compliments Hal on the yellow, sloppy, depressing bog of mid-life inertia that is his father's bachelor pad. "I know, it's great," Hal sniffs. "I'm so glad your Mom is divorcing me." He boasts that he decorated the place in two hours after trips to "that Swedish place" and "Beyond the Bathroom," and grouses that his bitch-ass slowpoke wife took a year to spruce up their house. Steven looks uncomfortable at the constant complaints about his mother, but since we've never actually seen her or known her to call him, or him her, I figure he should just laugh it up. He asks Hal to bring it back around to his crisis. "Just don't do it, Steven, okay?" Hal sighs. Steven explains that Lizzie has resolved to explore, and the United States of Steve is uncharted territory that's ripe to be settled. "Then let her date Magellan! Vasco de Gama!" Hal insists. "Women are crazy. You don't want to enter into a situation that makes them even crazier!" Steven isn't getting the advice he'd wanted. "Pardon me, but look at your mother," Hal continues. "She seemed completely sane at the beginning. Now, this chick you like, she's already starting at halfway nuts!" Steven leaps up and half-heartedly thanks his father for his honesty, bolting the apartment without a farewell. "Okay, ignore the voice of experience!" yells a put-off Hal.
UNEC. Rachel and Shaggy are gabbing with Steven on the quad. "Women are crazy," avers Rachel, claiming that simple fact is the reason she prefers not to keep female friends. There is a preponderance of girls that I don't like, true, but guys have a pretty well-populated asshole contingent too. Shaggy simpers that Rachel shouldn't badmouth girls, because some of them are totally great. He shoots her the most adoring look -- or, to be more accurate, he shoots it at her hair, because she doesn't turn her head. Steven is wearing the most hideous paisley shirt I've ever seen, and that puts it up against some stiff competition. It kind of matches Hal's apartment. And Lizzie's soul. Rachel warns Steven that he's in for some hell if he pursues Lizzie. "Maybe you like hell," offers Shaggy, still ogling Rachel. In the distance, Steven sees Lizzie approaching, and warns them to stop talking. Rachel keeps blathering that she's only lived with Lizzie one day, but she can already tell the poor girl is insane. This fits pretty well with her initial hesitance to bond with Lizzie. I guess they just got used to each other later on and became pals. Who knows. "Have you seen her screensaver? It's a picture of her boyfriend's head!" Rachel sputters. Shaggy leans in and ominously whispers that Steven's head could be up . Rachel argues that if Lizzie can cheat on Eric her first day at college, then she'd probably tear Steven apart with her devil claws. Steven reminds them of Lizzie's proximity.
Fred, out of character now, proclaims, "And the story ends!...Or does it?" I'm ready to be sick of Fred Willard, who feels so ubiquitous these days. But dammit, he was perfect -- his imitations intentionally stank just enough, and had an air of desperation about them that had me really feeling sorry for this poor washed-up prof. When the class looks at him like he's lost his mind, and offers only a smattering of weak applause, I want to hug him and bring him home for dinner and feed him and keep him and brush his hair. Shaggy looks embarrassed, but I would so enroll in that class after hearing about the Bay of Wigs. up: a musical, based loosely on Annie Get Your Gun, about Dien Bien Phu.
Heath helps Steven don his very best pimping shirt and explains that all women are fair game until they get married -- and some even remain in play after that. Nice, Heath. I, like many others, am glad they morphed him into something a little more human than a hump machine. Steven trembles. Heath orders him to quell the nervousness, because women don't like scared little boys, and it's undercutting the sheer power of Steven's machismo. "Know why I never get scared?" Heath asks. "Because women don't like it. Now, go make me proud!" Steven promises to do so, but looks more interested in puking, passing out, skipping this painful madness and waking up at age thirty with a potbelly, a trailer and a pregnant wife, and no memory.
The movie is being screened outdoors, with a growing cluster of chairs gathering on the quad. Steven's and Lizzie's lawn chairs, set up practically on top of each other, are quite a suspicious distance from the crowd. Gently, Lizzie asks if they might want to move a bit closer. "Uh, well, personally, I like the back," Steven explains. "It's a bit more private, you know?" Lizzie nods politely and seems to lean slightly away from the spot where their seats join. She small-talks that it's incredible to be seeing American Pie for free. "I know! College is so awesome," Steven gushes. "And the movie's rated R!" He cracks a lame joke about Tara Reid being single, then claims she's not his type -- what, he doesn't flip for women with no waist and a man's pelvic bone? -- and clamps his hand on Lizzie's knee. By now, mildly uncomfortable, Lizzie's having an intimate affair with the opposite armrest.
Hillary appears in the Frosh Pit and appeals to Heath's acting skills: she is preparing for an RA retreat in which they have to act out various scenarios, and Hillary wants a Real Actor to help her prepare. RA retreats generally happen before school starts, but Heath doesn't catch on, mostly because he's horny. Ron explains that Heath can't help, but falters when expected to explain himself. "I would like to help," breathes Heath serenely. "I enjoy helping others." Hillary, who wants him to help her climax, smiles happily. Ron looks concerned. I can't figure out why he would be so worried about Heath getting laid. It's not like any of the other RAs have been strict or scary. Hell, Lucien was all about the floor party and didn't care a whit about underage drinking. Maybe Ron's sister knows Hillary from prison, or something.
Steven tries again to explain to Lizzie exactly how momentous their carnal romp was, but he's interrupted by what might honestly be the world's most annoying cell-phone ring: circus music. ["Hee. That's Niki's boyfriend's cell-phone ring." -- Wing Chun] Lizzie, spotting the caller ID, turns green as she swivels around to shield Steven from the conversation. "Wazzap?" she whispers, trying to muster good cheer. "Wazzzzaaaaaaap," Eric yelps, betraying the age of this episode. "Guess who just bench-pressed 215 pounds?" Lizzie quietly chirps, "Was it you?" while desperately trying to make herself disappear. "You're damn RIGHT it was me!" he crows. "My ex-stepdad taped me, and he had the tripod set up perfect. It was awesome." Steven, seen over Lizzie's shoulder, valiantly tries to pretend everything is fine as Lizzie gently begs Eric to let her call him back later. "But I thought we were going to have a little phone sex," Eric reminds her saucily. He's rankled that it's not a good time for her, and they squabble. "I'm feeling pretty ready," says a defensive Eric. "Yeah, that's a big surprise," Lizzie retorts. "Oh, here we go," Eric grumbles. Steven shuffles in his seat.
Hillary sits down to Heath and calmly explains that, in this little piece from Theater of the Absurd, she'll play the inexperienced RA, and Heath will play Jennie, "a troubled young girl who's been hitting the bong too hard and is about to get kicked out of school." He lightly caresses her hand and suggests that they do something else, and is shocked when Hillary's legs don't wrap themselves around his neck. "You know, Jennie, why don't we solve your problem?" snaps Hillary, swatting snippily at his hand. "Let's get serious. This is your life." She then whispers for Heath to start whenever he's ready. Heath is completely stunned. "Hi, I'm Jennie," he stammers. "I've been hitting the bong too hard and I'm about to get kicked out of school." Hillary sympathizes. "That must be really scary," she says. "It's a little bit scary," Heath says slowly, staring at her as if he can't quite fathom why her bra is not swinging from the doorknob.
Eric tries to tempt Lizzie with a little visual imagery. He's wearing his sexy underwear and holding the picture of her "wearing that hat." Again, she pleads with him to let her go peacefully, but once he's whipped out the hat photo, it's the point of no return. "What is a good time? When you graduate college, is that a good time? How about I wait until you graduate college so I'm blue all over my body?" he spits. "Will that make you happy? Want to have a blue boyfriend?" Eric? Are you familiar with the internet? There might be a page or two of helpful porn, guaranteed to pink up even the bluest of balls. Steve crosses his arms and prays for Eric's swift dismemberment. Steven then leans over and points out a fellow undergrad who brought a pie with a hole in it to the movie; clearly, he's desperate to get her attention, willing to do anything short of ripping off his clothes and screaming, "ME!" As it is, Lizzie doesn't react. Twisting as far away from Steven as she can, Lizzie looks ill as Eric rants that if he went to a cool college, he wouldn't call him, either. "It's not that," she insists. "It's that it's not a good time." Eric decides it's not a good time for him, either. "Sabrina The Teenage Witch is on, and I guess she'll have to do!" he screams, hanging up the phone. Lizzie guiltily returns her attention to Steven and apologizes for the whole incident. Chin in hand, he props himself up on the middle armrest and leers, "Did you know one of the guys in this movie was in Election?" Yeah, that blew my mind, too. Chris Klein is way too useless to have made a good movie. Lizzie uncomfortably excuses herself and flees to the bathroom.
Suddenly, the Jingle of Eric Has An Erection diverts Steven's attention to the cell phone. Lizzie left it on the seat, and it's ringing relentlessly. Steven picks up on a whim. "I'm sorry, L-Bug," Eric whimpers. "I just miss you so much." Steven thinks for a second. "'Allo?" he minces, feigning French confusion.
Ron grabs Lucien in the hallway and lies that he needs help, because his roommate's been asleep for two whole days. Lucien looks completely horrified. "What? Why? Where is he, where IS he?" he sputters, panicked. "Two days in a ROW?" Ron leads him away.
Eric angrily tells Steven that he's Lizzie's boyfriend. "Dees iz also her boyfriend," Steven Frenches. "Dees iz predeecament of zorts, yes?" He claims Lizzie can't come to the phone because "she's getting ready to marry me on my beeg boat." Eric starts screaming that he's not in the mood for jokes, not when his balls ache and all he wants is some aural sex. "'Allo, dees is Lizzie speaking, I just got married and I'm much happier -- who iz dees?" Steven asks, really warming up to the bit. "Shut up man, you are not Lizzie," Eric insists, one of my favorite lines of the entire show. Steven rambles on about closure, starting to sound more like he's from India than from France, but Lizzie slowly draws nearer to him and his face freezes guiltily. Eric yells, "You'd better shut up, man, or I'm gonna Van Damme your head off!" The closed-captioning claims Eric threatened to "ship [Steven] back where [he] came from," but obviously that line got replaced and I'm glad. Gingerly, Steven unhands the phone, and Lizzie growls to Eric that the mystery voice was "just some IDIOT on my floor." She scampers away. "Can we have phone sex now?" Eric asks, cheerful once more. The movie starts, and Steven settles in to watch it alone.
Hillary grabs Heath's shoulders and begs "Jennie" to look deep in her eyes, so "Jennie" can see a reflection of her own beautiful self. Hillary urges "Jennie" to admit she's beautiful, and Heath uncomfortably does so. "Yeah," Hillary murmurs, huskily, before grabbing "Jennie" and kissing her frantically. No, no, no, Hillary! He's a thespian, not a lesbian. Heath pulls away and scolds her, saying they probably shouldn't have sex because he has herpes. "So what? I do too. Everybody does," she duhs desperately. Amy Poehler is so great in this part. Heath tries another tactic, claiming it's inappropriate for the head RA to give him head. He fakes concern about getting caught. "I'll go fast like a man," Hillary vows, frenzied. "Just give it!" She grabs him, and they wrestle.