It's Parents' Weekend at UNEC, if the giant banner is to be believed -- and generally, I've found giant banners speak the truth, excepting the one I once saw that said, no joke, "This Is Not Here." Ron and Shaggy are hanging out in their room, the latter tuning his guitar while the former gets ready to tune his crotch tuba with an issue of Maxim. Eliza Dushku is on the cover, doing whatever it is she does that makes guys want to lock themselves in the bathroom with her and a sock. Happily, Ron proclaims the creators of Maxim to be total geniuses. I've met one of the women who worked there, and let me tell you, she wasn't, nor was she especially proud of the job -- in fact, she gave a lengthy discourse about how to choose a pseudonym when you write articles of which you're ashamed. Anyway, Ron believes the good people at Maxim made the magazine specifically with his needs in mind, which is true, given that they target anything with a functional penis. "It's like, 'Hey, Ron, what do you want to read this week? Another article about Alyssa Milano's jugs?'" Ron theorizes. "Perfect." He's also thrilled that he didn't tell his parents about this weekend, because now his attentions can be completely focused on Heath's sister. Shaggy shoots him a skeptical look. Ron babbles about how cool she sounds when they've talked on the phone. "She sounds hot," he adds. "She's probably a female [Heath] -- picture [him] with hair and boobs and no wiener...I could be into that." Shaggy looks nauseous and creeped out. Roll credits before Ron digs himself any deeper into his bog of strange.
Steven is stuck on the phone with Hal, who is complaining that he gets "sloppy Steven seconds" this weekend because his estranged wife snagged the first half of the event. Steven politely points out that he hasn't seen his mother since she left for Europe two months ago, which is why she gets first dibs on seeing him. Apparently, Steven's trying to orchestrate it so that his parents avoid seeing each other. Hal wonders if he should show up and try to talk things out with his ex. "I'm a good listener now, Steve," he explains. "I watch Oprah, I read Oprah Magazine...I've discovered my spirit, Steven." Good for you. Go start a book club. Steven reluctantly offers to organize a "family" dinner at the end of the weekend.
Rachel frantically gathers all the "contraband" she's amassed -- lighters, fake IDs, condoms, caffeine pills, even eyedrops -- and shoves them inside a stuffed frog. Lizzie finds all this slightly pathetic and feels sorry for the frog. "He looks fat," she says, pityingly. It's perfect that her first reaction is to fret about the frog's swelling belly. "You don't know my mom," says an ever-more-frenzied Rachel. "When I was sixteen, she went through my dream box and she found a joint. I was too scared to even try it, and she sent me to rehab for six weeks!" Lizzie sighs that at least Rachel's parents are coming; hers opted to attend a psychiatric conference at EPCOT. Yeah, right. Unless it's "Psychiatry Around the World" or something, they're at Pleasure Island.
Shaggy's parents arrive in the Frosh Pit and shout for their son. He flips out -- they're early. "No Farting," Senior Shag reads from the poster on the door. "Well, that means you, pumpkin," instructs his wife. Ha! She's fabulous. She sounds like she's from Wisconsin. Yeah, I know they're supposed to be from Missouri, but I've never been there so I can only liken her voice to that of the Wisco folk. ["Isn't Sioux City in Iowa?" -- Wing Chun] Inside his room, Shaggy runs around frantically searching for a place to hide his guitar, because he hasn't confessed that he's a Music major, and I guess the mere presence of a guitar will tip his hand. That's so weird. I guess people in Missouri don't have hobbies. Like, I had lipstick in my room, but my mother never flipped her shit and assumed I was a Cosmetology major. Senior Shag wants his son to be a businessman. "He wants me to be practical. He works in an auto plant," Shaggy says breathlessly. Eventually, he shoves the guitar in a closet, while Ron recalls that Shaggy's supposed to be playing in the weekend talent show. Brightly, Shaggy decides that his performance will be the way he communicates his future plans. "They'll just know," he realizes. "Like in Billy Elliot." Ron nods slowly, amused. Shaggy's parents are growing tired of banging on the door, so he lets them in. "Hey, you made it!" Shaggy greets them cheerfully. "[I went] 80 the whole way," giggles Senior Shag. "Not a cop in sight!" Ma Shag grins, "No ticket, either!" She is great. Shaggy's dad is a heavyset man with a blunt-cut buzz, while Ma Shag has a perfect red coif and a constant toothy smile. Love her. Ron, meanwhile, shoves Maxim under his pillow, sensing that Eliza Dushku's varied charms aren't fit for this crowd.
Shaggy shows them around his tiny space. He has the greatest poster -- the old-timey blue one with a guy holding up a frosty mug of beer, as the slogan reads, "Beer -- Helping Ugly People Have Sex Since 1862!" Somehow, it makes me sad that Shaggy owns that poster, as if he takes that to heart, or something. If I owned that, I'd probably take it down whenever my parents visited. We didn't have a proper annual Parents' Weekend, though -- just a home football Saturday for which parents had a greater chance of getting tickets, because the game was the shittiest one. We did get Junior Parents' Weekend, so the school could organize special events (read: major-specific lectures) designed to make parents feel better about blowing so much damn money on tuition, and during which we compensated for that horror by renting a local bar with a hundred of our closest friends, getting our parents sloshed, and watching them dance to "YMCA" while guzzling well drinks. It was then that I learned my dad is utterly befuddled by the "YMCA" routine. The man is the best of Britain and a geophysics genius, but spelling with his arms while jumping up and down confounds him. He rules.
Ahem. Sorry for the digression. As Shaggy introduces his Beck poster, "Mixed Bizness" plays in the background, which I call "The Heather Song" because it's the only one I know that uses my name -- oh, and look, I gave away my real name. Damn, and the alias was so clever, too. Right. Senior Shag snorts that he wonders if Beck does his own makeup. "He looks like Barbara Mandrell," he laughs. Ron smiles politely. Ma Shag enjoys Beck's "sparkly" look. "Ronnie, can you help me get these old dogs off?" asks Senior Shag, holding up his foot. Weirded out, Ron nevertheless complies, grabbing the shoe and pulling. "Just give it a good, hard yank," S.S. says, which probably distracts Ron and reminds him that Eliza's waiting under his pillow. With one massive tug, Senior Shag's prosthetic leg comes off, and Ron and the limb fly backward and land against the bed. Ron shouts, startled, before he realizes that he's been played. Shaggy and Ma Shag are doubled over with laughter. "Love it!" Shaggy snickers. "I miss that!"
A tall, pointy-but-cute blonde trots into the Frosh Pit with Heath in tow. She teases him about his messy hair and exclaims over the wonder of their suite. "It's bigger than our house!" she gushes. She is Heath's sister Amanda, and she's played by Kimberly Stewart, daughter of rockin' Rod. At first, before I looked up her lineage, I was tempted to make a really snide comment about her crappy fake accent. But maybe it sounds weird because she's lived in the States for a while. I don't know. I will say that it's odd having her play Heath's sister, given that their inflections indicate that they're from completely different parts of England. Ron sidles out of his room timidly, and Amanda brightens when she sees him. "Oh my God, it's you!" she squeals, running over and hugging him. "I just thought you were this little voice on the phone!" Heath is entertained that they've been flirting, and sarcastically asks if Ron mentioned all his sensitive traits, like how much he loves reading. "Shut up, poppet," she says affectionately, and completely awkwardly. Amanda then turns her attention back to Ron, asking about his girlfriend. "We, uh, we, uh, started...decided to see other people," Ron stammers as Heath watches with a knowing smirk. If Ron had ever been with a girl, Heath would've picked up the scent. Amanda is aghast at the tragedy of it all. She then asks him to take her on a tour of campus while Heath is in class. "Good luck, Ron," Heath chuckles.
Rachel's room is the picture of chastity, all stuffed animals and calm reading and angelic faces. Any mother worth her title would immediately identify this as a cover for a den of sin, like those old mafia restaurants where the tables flip from casino games to regular dinner place-settings whenever the police show up. Rachel's mother is played by Mary Kay Place, recently brilliant in Being John Malkovich. Mary asks what they do with their free time. "A lot of studying," Lizzie smiles. Rachel, leaning up against her reading pillow, concurs, throwing out words like "library" and "books" and "reading" as if she's actually intimate with them. "What about boyfriends?" prods Mary. Rachel wishes she had time for one. "You know that teacher you were so fond of? He's getting out of jail just about now!" Mary chirps. Rachel is indignant. "Mom, he was an SAT tutor and he is not in jail!" she protests. "I'm kidding!" Mary says. "Mom's funny!" Lizzie is uncomfortable. Mary shoos them out so she can freshen up before they eat.
Up is a montage of Mary's paranoia, during which she scours every cranny of Rachel's room in search of evidence of debauchery. She taste-tests carrots and baby powder, checks the blinds and the stereo, the computer, the closet, and the fridge, and finally flops on the bed with a relieved and satisfied smile on her face. But then she makes eye contact with the plush frog. It's grinning at her. We cut back and forth between the two parties in this showdown. Mary's all, "Don't look at me like that," and the frog's all, "Don't talk to me that way, I ain't yo' ho!" and Mary's all, "I'm gonna slap that smirk off your face, bitch," and the frog's all, "You just frontin'," and Mary's going, "It's go time, you slutbag Bud reject," and the frog's like, "Reconsider. I have friends -- powerful friends." Eyes narrow. Brows furrow. The battle of wills has begun.
Steven's mother, clad in a fresh-from-the-bookstore UNEC sweatshirt, praises the campus and wonders if she should take some classes there. "I could pass for a senior, right?" she teases. "No, you're way too old," Steven grins. Their laughter dies when they spy Hal in the lounge. "Hey, family!" Hal buffoons. "Nice sweatshirts!" He greets his ex -- Debra, it seems -- with a slavish smile and brandishes three tickets to the omelet station in front of the library. Man, if they'd had that at my school, I'd have been to the library way more often than just the night before my papers were due. Debra and Steven look ill, and slightly sad at the way Hal is making sweet love to Pathetic Bravado.
Lizzie and Rachel reenter their temple of doom. One look inside and Rachel's eyes fly open. She gasps, "Oh my God!" Mary sits on the bed with a knowing glare, having brutalized the frog into submission and dumped out the disgraceful contents of its belly. "Your frog has been very naughty," she intones, shaking her head in disapproval.
I love that, during this episode about Senior Shag's wooden leg, Fox shows the Doritos ad with the one-legged basketball player who rips off his prosthesis and uses it to bat the ball away from the hoop. Nice accidental juxtaposition.
Rachel and Lizzie sit guiltily on one bed, while Mary sits in judgment on the other. She lectures Rachel about violating her trust, saying she wouldn't have to spy if Rachel would stop with the lying. "I don't deserve this," Mary insists. "I had to raise you by myself. Your father -- he doesn't even care!" Rachel is miserable. Lizzie just watches. Mary blathers that she told River Glen that twenty-eight days seemed too short, but she regrets thinking six months sounded too long. Gulping, Lizzie leans forward and takes one for the team. "It's mine," she whispers. "All mine." Rachel's jaw drops and bounces off the cleavage spilling from her shirt. Mary immediately recants her lecture to Rachel (who acts all angelic and wounded), and demands a moment alone with Lizzie. "Yeah," Rachel agrees, nodding with a concerned expression, as though she's relieved someone is willing to stage an intervention for the skank-hellion Lizzie. Looking betrayed, Lizzie smiles nervously at Mary.
Ron and Amanda stroll pleasantly across campus, she energetically explaining to him a dream she just had about a bear in the forest that took her virginity. "A bear?" he asks, confused and slightly aroused by the bestial sensuality of it all. "A bear of a man," she clarifies. "Oh, man-bear, yeah," Ron nods. He's into the hyphenates. First it was man-prostitute, now man-bear. I like it. Amanda dreamily describes the sweet and magical connection they shared, then informs a clueless Ron that she thinks he is the man-bear destined to rid her of the shackles of chastity. Ron manages to remain conscious and standing, but faints dead away inside.
Later, Ron storms into the men's bathroom. Hearing light guitar music, he throws back a shower curtain to reveal Shaggy. "God, you scared me!" Shaggy panics, peeking around nervously to make sure the coast is still clear. "Get in here," he whispers, dragging Ron into the stall and pulling the curtain around his guitar, as if it will swallow his instrument and make it look like two men in one shower are having a completely innocent, music-free conversation. I love that he didn't just draw the curtain again. Ron hurriedly explains that Amanda wants him to sleep with her; Shaggy listens absently, still worried Senior Shag will appear for a whiz break. Ron is terrified of the pressure, certain it will be lousy sex and Amanda will go back to Britain and turn the name "Ron" into a synonym for "crappy lay." Ron imitates, "'Hey, how was your shag?' 'Oh, I got Ronned, he Ronned me, it was terrible!'" Pity Shaggy isn't Marshall's real name -- in that situation, "Shaggy" makes him sound like an expert. Shaggy is trying to understand Ron's anxiety, but can't.
Hal and Debra start arguing in Steven's room while he waits outside with Ma Shag. Debra, rationalizing her decision to leave Hal, points out that she was deliriously happy for two months and then grew miserable again the second she laid eyes on Hal. "I'd be happy too, if I could run around Europe in a pair of pants, shorts, short pants, or whatever the hell those things are," seethes Hal. She's wearing some hideous floral capris -- I'd be miserable in Europe wearing those. Debra thinks he should give her a break. "What's the matter, does that bother you?" he yells. "Are you feeling dead inside or something?" Ooooh! That smell? Is Debra being burned. In the Frosh Pit, Steven hears every word and winces, while Ma Shag's toothy grin remains firmly in place. "I'm really sorry about this," he offers. "Oh, honey, it's okay," she Wisconsins. "You should hear [Senior Shag] and me go on about the silliest things! It's really very normal." She gives the ultimate knowing nod. Steven's grateful.
Debra screams that she hated being ignored. Hal insists he never ignored her and was always completely attracted to her. When she doesn't believe him, Hal seizes the moment and kisses her. She pulls away, startled, then succumbs to the sweet whiff of a sure thing and starts to make out with her husband. The Snood poster watches them have sex. Poor thing. Sucks to have no eyelids.
Lizzie stands over one of the dorm toilets, unable to believe that someone else's mother is forcing her to flush so-called contraband. "I was in a twelve-step program for road rage, and I understand," Mary says importantly. "I don't know what that means," Lizzie blinks, confused. "Flush the junk," orders Mary. Lizzie drops fake IDs, aspirin bottles, booze, condoms, and Visine into the bowl, and flushes. I'll bet Visine loved this product placement. "Visine: The biodegradable bottle that goes down when you flush it!" Lizzie fakes a sigh of relief and says, "They're gone." Mary smiles proudly and takes her hand. "Let's go call your parents," she says cheerfully. Terror washes over Lizzie's face.
Steven brightens, noticing that the screams emanating from his room have completely died down. Then, to his total horror, the yelling is replaced by laughter and moaning. "Did you learn that in Amsterdam?" Hal giggles, according to the closed-captioning. They cackle flirtatiously. Ma Shag's eyebrows twitch once she figures out what's happening. "We're doing it!" Hal or Debra yells, but again, only according to the captioners. We just hear random noises, sounding very much like two people unaccustomed to sex are fumbling around trying to get it right. Ron should be here with a notebook. Steven runs his fingers through his hair, as if contemplating ripping it out, the pain of which would pale in comparison with listening to his parents have sex. Incidentally, Hal and Steven have now had exactly the same number of sexual encounters in that bed. Steven tries to make small talk, during which time we learn Shaggy's family has lived in Sioux City for ten years. "Is that Indian?" he asks. "It's Sioux," Ma Shag answers. Hee. Hal and Debra burst out of the room, Hal missing his sweatshirt and boasting terribly tousled hair. "Hey, well, hey!" he coughs, zipping up his trousers. Ma Shag's eyes bug out in stunned and amused embarrassment. Debra blushes.
You know that Verizon commercial featuring Olympian Jimmy Shea and his Olympian father and grandfather? The one where people sing his name to the tune of "Low Rider," which is Jimmy's cell phone ring? Yeah, that commercial totally invaded my and my roommate's heads (along with the Clay Henry Subway commercial), so much so that Jimmy (and Clay) started to feel like...well, family. And then we found out the oldest Shea Olympian just died, so now we're bummed and feeling vaguely pathetic. Um, and in conclusion, RIP, Old Man Shea. Sigh. I tell the worst stories.
The talent show. It's not very large; there's a cluster of round tables and it looks like attendees got a meal out of it. A good violinist plays on the modest stage; Senior Shag praises her talent. "I bet she could do that professionally," Shaggy says pointedly. "Maybe if she's happy clearing twenty-two thousand a year teaching eight-year-olds," snorts Senior Shag. His son pouts.
Steven clears his throat and breaks the awkward silence at his table by asking Hal and Debra how they enjoyed the afternoon. "Great!" Hal says with his signature too-loud perkiness. "This college is fun!" Debra looks guilty and whispers that she needs to speak with Hal outside -- alone. Hal is still grinning, because Hal is more oblivious to reality and good sense than FOX executives.
Lizzie grabs Rachel and angrily hisses that this little deception can't continue. She's scared that when Mary calls her psychiatrist parents, they'll put her on antidepressants. "I'll lose my highs and my lows and I'll have to live in the middle," she wails. Rachel's spine returns from its weekend bender and resolves, a bit nauseously, to put things right. She turns, gulps, and shouts, "Mother! Lizzie didn't do anything wrong!" Mary turns from the sink, pretty sure that owning condoms, booze, and fake IDs is rather wrong. I wonder why she didn't look at the IDs and notice they resembled Rachel more than Lizzie -- but then again, a white guy I knew at ND used a black female's license as a fake ID and successfully got into the local underage hangout, so forget I said anything.
Mary is astounded that Rachel is standing up to her; Lizzie hugs the doorframe so that Rachel and her freshly sprouted testicles can own the limelight. Rachel argues that college has broadened her perspective in a healthy way, pointing out that many perceived geniuses (John Lennon, Freud) were on drugs (heroin and coke, respectively, according to her). "People take journeys, they make mistakes -- that's how they learn," she argues. Lizzie slowly approaches her, shooting Rachel an absolutely priceless look of utter annoyance tinged with murderous rage. She can't believe Rachel isn't absolving her. Mary sternly asks if Rachel is back on "one of [her] journeys," and the reality of standing up to her mother hits Rachel, so she crumbles again and insists that she isn't -- but we have to embrace the errant lives in this world, rather than pass judgment upon them. Lizzie is steaming, but silent. I can't believe Rachel is such a wuss. She's a rebel without a rebellious streak. "I mean, Mom, not everyone is like you!" Rachel argues, emotionally. Mary's face makes it clear that she agrees, and considers herself a lone warrior in this crusade against teenage debauchery. "You were such a great mother, and [Lizzie's] parents didn't even come to Parents' Weekend," continues Rachel. "So Lizzie turns to drugs and men to fill her empty void." Lizzie gives up and rolls with it. "I do," she says without enthusiasm. That part cracked me up. Lizzie's a damn good sport. Mary, charmed, embraces the two girls and gushes that Lizzie is lucky to have a friend like Rachel. Behind her mother's back, Rachel gestures an apology to Lizzie, who just looks relieved that the madness ended without involving her parents.
A man in orange clicks into a microphone. "That was a water sprinkler," he explains, then proceeds to imitate a sprinkler at Charlton Heston's house -- a gag that involves interspersing regular clicking noises with machine-gun noises. It's so true, too. This man says what we're all thinking. Senior Shag proclaims this comic "the real deal." Under the table, Amanda rubs Ron's leg flirtatiously. He winces and stares at the tablecloth. Shaggy clears his throat and announces that he needs to go backstage and wish luck to his friends, who are about to perform. "Billy Elliot," he whispers to Ron. Amanda attempts more footsie. Ron jumps and starts blathering about how brilliant the sprinkler comic is. Undeterred, Amanda slides down in her seat to have another go at erotic foot flirting, but ends up kicking Senior Shag instead and knocking off his prosthetic leg. I guess that counts as a foot orgasm. She is totally horrified, but Senior Shag takes it all in stride -- heh -- and gets up to reattach his limb with Ma Shag. But they don't show how he got out of the room. I assume he hopped. Amanda, fully recovered, whispers for Ron to meet her outside in three minutes. He hedges. He's still nervous. His right hand has never complained before, but he's still convinced he's a bad lay. After Amanda offers a flimsy excuse about a bathroom break, Ron leans over to Heath and whispers that they need to talk.
Debra apologizes to Hal for their sexcapade (which she calls surprising and fun), but she is clearly not ready to end her foray into swinging singlehood. Hal's wide smile falters slightly, then morphs into a sadly resigned one. "My life's different now," she apologizes. Hal nods that his is, too, and that he would never ask her to abandon what she's discovered in the world. "I just thought we could have a new life together," he mourns gently. Debra suggests that they cling to the happy years and healthy child they've shared, and be satisfied with that -- for now. Steven slouches over to check on them, and both parents swap rueful looks.
Pleasant applause greets Shaggy's appearance on stage. Go Billy! He dons his guitar, switches on a synthesizer, and starts rocking out to the thin beat. His background music screams his name, and we hear train whistles, a modem-connection noise, and the command, "Get in line!" Shaggy strums his guitar and sings in a monotone, "Factory. Patriarchy. Economy. Autonomy. That's ME!" He's a techno-political nightmare. Actually, this song might've worked in Billy Elliot.
Heath cracks up at Shaggy's...er, "music." Ron frantically whispers that Amanda asked him to "take her, uh, her...virginity." His delivery is painfully perfect. He actually uses hand gestures on the word "take," as though the process involves physically removing a cherry from one of her body cavities. Heath frowns. "I don't know, man, I guess it's okay," he says after a pause. Ron is stunned. "She's old enough to make her own decisions," figures Heath. "If I was [sic] to step in now, she'd only go and do it with some guy I don't like nearly as much as you." He ruffles Ron's hair. Man, even if it is a "European thing," as Heath suggests, I don't know many eighteen- or nineteen-year-old guys who'd be so comfortable letting their friends nail their sisters. Most guys don't seem to want to know any details at all about their sisters having sex. Kinda creepy, there, Heath.
On stage, Shaggy lip-synchs to a computerized voice that says, "I am the music man, funk is my energy, music is the product of my factory." He does the robot and raises his guitar in triumph. The modem screech plays again, and he slowly turns down the volume on it, shouting to cover the silence. Then he's done. There is a smattering of very, very light applause, barely courteous.
Hal and Debra explain to a confused Steven that they're staying separated for the time being. "At least we're together [now], right?" Steven says with a touch of disappointment. Hal also looks sad, but the trio hugs anyway. Then Ron sprints past. "If you see Amanda, tell her I fell. Hard. Off something high," he screams. "And I'm hurt, very hurt." Ron, it's okay. Once Amanda started wearing her hair down, I got scared of her, too.
Senior and Ma Shag apparently hopped all the way back to the dorm to reattach his leg. Except Ma now has other ideas. "Maybe we should leave it off," she says seductively. Senior Shag's face lights up, and he lovingly tickles his wife. They giggle. And that is the hottest action Shaggy's bed has ever seen.
Shaggy returns to his table, seeing only Heath there. "My parents left already?" he wonders, perplexed. "They left before you played," Heath says gently. Shaggy is silent. But just when I worried that this would suddenly be about a boy and his crushed spirit, Shaggy heaves an enormous sigh of relief and hugs Heath. "Oh, man, that's awesome!" he breathes, collapsing in a chair. "I'll tell them at Easter. Easter's better." Heath snickers. Mmm, Snickers.
The morning, Amanda is walking out the door with Heath when Ron gingerly appears in the Frosh Pit. With one glance, Amanda dismisses Heath, who carries her luggage down the hall. "Ron, if you didn't want to go through with it, you should have said something," she sighs, a bit wounded. Ron stammers that he so badly wanted to do it, but chickened out because he, too, is a virgin, and was scared of messing up the sex. "No matter what, it'd be the best we'd ever had!" she argues, half-laughing. Ron freezes. He is not happy with himself. "I didn't look at that side," he admits, mentally kicking his own ass. "Wow." He asks her to catch a red-eye, suddenly figuring he'd be pretty decent at sex, but her flight is non-refundable, and Amanda leaves UNEC completely chaste.
So Ron bolts to find Steven, who is giggling with Rachel and Lizzie. They invite Ron out to celebrate the end of Parents' Weekend, but he hurriedly insists he just needs Maxim immediately. Steven directs him to it, and the gang giggles at Ron's sexual desperation.