This is it. The last regular-season episode of Undeclared. Get out your hankies. And then berate yourself for owning and using a hankie, because that's rather unhygienic.
Lizzie perches on her desk chair as Rachel stands behind her, looking over her shoulder at the computer screen. Lizzie opens an email invitation to Eric's birthday party, which involves his head bobbing on top of a cartoon body. "Do you want to PARTY?" his voice shouts. "Yes/no, Yes/no, Yes/no..." Lizzie clicks on neither option, but admits to Rachel that she probably should go.
Cut to Lizzie leaving Eric a phone message to the effect that she'd be thrilled to attend his twenty-seventh birthday party. Which would mean he was twenty-three when he started dating Lizzie, who was fifteen. And who, at nineteen, still looks fifteen. Which just proves that age-old adage that you can't spell "creepy" without three of the letters that are in "Eric." Lizzie's message is all saccharine. "Hey, Mr. Eric," she says sweetly. She adds that she misses hearing Eric's voice -- which is odd, considering we've established that he calls her between five and fifty times daily -- and passes on greetings to the Goon Squad before hanging up.
Kopy Town. Eugene (né Kyle, after his portrayer, Kyle Gass of Tenacious D) and Greg (David Krumholtz, of a lot of things) are working with Eric. Greg complains that his girlfriend is probably cheating on him again with some guy named Abujay. "She says he's taking advantage of her, but it's happened, like, four times," he frets. Eugene shouts that chicks aren't worth the trouble, which is why he doesn't date. "Is that why?" snorts Eric. "I don't need to date," Eugene brags. "I got TiVo." No kidding. There's few things TiVo can't do. Eventually it will actually be able to have sex. In the meantime, Eugene boasts he can, with TiVo's help, cook the hot dog all night long with Lucy Liu, the horrific and deeply unnecessary Lisa Ling, and "that chick from Crouching Tiger," who Greg incorrectly identifies as (male) director Ang Lee. "Yeah!" Eugene pants. "She's so hot! TiVo be my pimp, yo!" TiVo: Fulfilling the hot masturbatory fantasies of balding Kopy Town employees everywhere. It's the ultimate slogan. Eric points out that Greg's lucky enough to have a real woman, except that she's cheating on him constantly. "Stand up for yourself, dog!" Eric insists. Greg confesses he's scared to, in case Janice dumps him like Lizzie did Eric. Greg then darts Eric a sidelong glance, as if he knows he's pulled a trigger and, any minute now, a bullet of Eric's psychoses will smack him in the eye. "Lizzie cheated on me once and I dumped her broke ass!" Eric swears indignantly, certain he can prove he has the upper hand by playing Lizzie's totally benign voicemail message. "That's from a group eVite, bitch!" Eric yells triumphantly. "Someone wants a little piece of Eric back." He starts to dance and rap. "Unhhh, 'cause it's hard to stay away," he crows. "Unhhh...So hard to stay away. Say what? Say what?" And it's true, if you're an octogenarian -- Eric is extolling his irresistibility while wearing an olive grandfather cardigan and sporting some nappy stubble. He's a ghetto Mr. Rogers.
Meanwhile, the Fab Frosh have just returned from Bulk Mart and are lugging in canisters of food so big they could double as protective headgear. "Does anyone even have a popcorn popper?" Lizzie moans. Oh, I don't think that will matter. Throw enough booze or pot into the mix, and those raw kernels will be gone in a week. The guys flop down and survey their stash with unbridled ecstasy. Lizzie's irritated when Steven announces that he wants to spend the rest of the day seated right there. "We're going to eat all this cookie dough," Shaggy shouts, reaching into a three-family size jar of it and shoveling a giant glob into his gaping maw. Lizzie calls them pigs. I call them visionaries. Heath chortles at her with his mouth wide open and full of candy.
Ron enters gingerly, cradling his most valued possession -- the newly acquired five-video uncensored gold edition of Girls Gone Wild. He looks like a proud parent who's just birthed the Gift of Ecstasy. "It came!" screams Heath, barely coherent around a mouthful of crap, while Shaggy throws his arms into the air to celebrate. Steven's delighted. "What are you so happy about?" Lizzie accuses. "Um, I'm happy for him," Steven fakes. "He ordered it a long time ago." That line yielded my first big laugh of the episode. Lizzie derides them for being immature, so Ron does something immature -- he taunts her, and pretty annoyingly. "Are we immature, Mommy?" he minces. "I thought breasts made food, Mommy. What's so immature about that, huh, Mommy?" Heath laughs so hard that bits of food fly around inside his mouth like Lotto balls before the skank in the sequined dress pulls the lever, at which time she invariably picks five numbers that are blatantly NOT my numbers, because she's a crazy, lying, cheating cow who's threatened by me, and is trying to thwart me from winning the millions I richly deserve. Sigh. Is this episode still on?
Lizzie storms across the hall whining that Ron, Shaggy, and Steven are so pathetic for wanting to watch porn and eat junk food. Lizzie? They're guys. Welcome to the Y chromosome. She continues to pout, groaning that she maxxed out her credit card at Bulk Mart on mass quantities of stuff she didn't need. Last time I went, I bought eighteen Cadbury's Cream Eggs, thirty-six rolls of toilet paper, and a bottle of garlic powder as big as my arm. Of those, only the necessary item -- the Cream Eggs box -- is fully depleted. Lizzie has stocked up on "enough tampons to last until menopause" and an enormous amount of boxed hair dye. "I don't even dye my hair!" she gripes. That's why stupid people shouldn't have credit cards. Larice, who's been quietly making toast from a two-foot loaf of bread that's dangling off the counter, muses that she knows highlights because she once worked at her aunt's hair salon, Expressions, and she thinks Lizzie could use a few. Rachel squeals that it's a fabulous idea, and all three girls get the glowy, excited "Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now" look that Starship immortalized in song and which all TV characters wear when they're about to do something phenomenally stupid.
Eric kicks back in a ratty recliner, positioned in a den browner than UPS. He's replaying Lizzie's message ad nauseam while Eugene and Greg listen more politely than they should. "That smells like a booty call," Eugene decides. "It's a Make Love call," Eric agrees. Is that what the homies are calling it these days? Greg still isn't convinced, so Eric argues that Lizzie didn't have to call -- she could've just replied via email, so the added effort proves there's a spot in Lizzie's garage for a refurbished Ericmobile.
Suddenly, Ben Stiller bursts out of the back room, looking like an extra from The Wedding Singer: his hair's in a long, curly brown mullet, and he's wearing what looks like a velour shirt. Ben Stiller looks a lot shorter with a mullet. And he could use some highlights, too. Ben is playing Eric's ex-stepdad. "Dude, you smoking pot in here?" he asks, sniffing the air suspiciously. "I know what it smells like -- Papa's sucked a bit of it down in his time." Eric denies that they're smoking pot, which sparks a warning from Ben to the effect that one whiff of any drug sends him running for his crack pipe. Because he's a suspicious twelve-stepper, and he's always looking for an excuse to tip over the wagon and blame it on a badly built wheel. Ben then tells Eugene to stop scarfing his Steak-Ums, a warning that certainly hasn't been uttered before in any conversation, ever, anywhere. Then Ben closes the door. I have to say, I'm lukewarm on the cameo so far. It wasn't Eric's ex-stepdad, it was Ben Stiller with a fright wig.
Greg turns the conversation away from needless cameos and onto the point: Lizzie probably is just being nice, and doesn't actually want to sail the USS Eric. "It's pity," he suggests. "It's passion!" Eric what-the-fucks. "I could be hitting that in half an hour." They make a bet and shake hands like the street pimps they want to be. Eric jauntily picks up the phone and calls Lizzie.
The dorm phone rings, but Meredith Brooks's "Bitch" is blaring so loudly that the girls don't hear it. They're doing Lizzie's hair and screaming the lyrics. Eric, rattled, hangs up and panics. He dials again and makes Eugene call her cell phone. Eugene sits there blankly and stares at the cell phone like it's an Urdu dictionary. Greg has to help him grasp the basics. Meanwhile, Lizzie still isn't answering either phone because she, Rachel, and Larice are wailing song lyrics and miraculously not getting flogged by their neighbors. "I'm going to message," Eric freaks. "I'm going to message, too," Eugene says. Eric screams for Eugene to hang up the phone, but Eugene runs into the "keyguard" thing and gets completely thrown off. Eric is jumping around and screaming for advice on whether to leave Lizzie a message, and Greg is ignoring him in favor of explaining the "End" key to Eugene, and so Eric explodes in an apoplectic fury and showers the brown living room with red splotchy reminders that Love is Pain. Which is how I always wanted those nauseating "Love Is..." cartoons to end. "Do I leave a message or not?" Eric finally screams. Greg yells at him to hang up the phone, and he does, but you know it went to message already anyway and Lizzie will check it and hear Eric going completely ballistic and he'll be more busted than Aretha Franklin. Gravely, Eric demands their company while he drives to UNEC. They're all, "Aw, man, again?" Eugene is still wearing his Kopy Town apron, which I find oddly endearing. It's like his cape. He's a superhero of the Xerox set, ready to service copiers wherever injustice reigns and low toner cartridge and paper jams threaten our liberties.
Eric's blue hatchback sputters down the street. Greg's convinced that something horrible is about to happen. Through gritted teeth, Eric explains that he's just going over to a friend's house. "You're not a friend," whimpers Greg. "You're some kind of stalker who needs to drive slower!" Eugene points out, "That's not a 'friend' face." Eric insists it is. "You must be her friend if you're okay with her having sex with someone else," Eugene blurts. Eric winces and screeches the car to a halt on the shoulder of the road. He drops his head onto the steering wheel. He can't run from the truth, and the truth is, we're all kind of over this subplot.
Rachel is gazing down at Lizzie with an unreadable expression. Lizzie is perched in the chair positively glowing -- and so is her hair. Glowing orange, that is. She looks like Sideshow Bob. Any second now she's going to run for Mayor of Springfield, or break out into the score of H.M.S. Pinafore and try to drive Bart to suicide with her warbling baritone. Larice is calmly fussing with Lizzie's hair. Rachel lies that it's gorgeous, then casually tries to ask Larice if this is step one in the process. "No, this it [sic]," Larice says. "This how we did it at Expressions." So apparently, Expressions was a clown shop. Rachel looks ill. Lizzie wears an oblivious ear-splitting grin. I know Lizzie's hair is the focus of this scene, but damn, Rachel needs some help, too. Her hair is nasty. It's in poofy layers around her face, and looks dry and soaked in hair spray.
Eric is sitting under a T-Rex statue that's growling down at him. His head's in his hands. He's stressed. He's a sensitive young man with heartstrings like a chicken -- highly pluckable. Eugene apologizes for making him cry. "I was just saying that, what if Steven is there and they're having sex, or whatever," he explains. Eric shouts that such musings aren't helping right now, so Greg intervenes before Eric rips off Eugene's bald head and lobs it clear across town, past the freeway, off the Hollywood sign, through downtown, around the Staples Center, swish, nothin' but net. "Dude, you gotta nail another chick," Greg suggests. He's got some tail primed and ready for Eric. "If you love Lizzie, you'll nail Alice," Greg avers.
Cut to Eric and his goons rocking out in the car. Eric is celebrating the ass he is about to receive. They're singing along to a song whose title I don't know, but which goes, "Ain't nothin' wrong with that/ We're hittin' switches/ Ain't nothin' wrong with that/ We pimpin' bitches/ Ain't nothing wrong with that/ Gettin' yo' cabbage/ Ain't nothin' wrong with that/ We livin' lavish."
A Britney type leans vixen-like against a wall and insists that flashing her tits isn't a classy thing to do. She's one of the girls on Girls Gone Wild, and my instincts tell me she's about to go wild. "It's classy!" shouts Heath. "Believe in yourself!" Shaggy screams. Ron's just getting impatient. He wants nipple. "She's been walking around like that for half an hour!" he moans. "She's got her bead! Why won't she show them?!?" Steven says she looks like Helen Hunt, which, in my opinion, is ample reason to crawl into a hole and never show anyone anything. Rachel scampers in uncomfortably and tries to pry Steven away. In the distance, we hear Lizzie wailing. Steven resists until Lizzie screams, "Oh my GOD!" He asks Shaggy to pause it and trots off to his girlfriend. Shaggy waits about two seconds before pressing play again. "Here it is," Heath says through a mouthful of food. He hasn't said anything without crap in his mouth. I wonder if Charlie Hunnam had speech-crippling oral surgery. On the tape, Britney shoots and scores. The guys roar with delight. "See? She built up suspense," Ron notes. "It was better that she did that."
Steven walks into the room and right into Lizzie, whose hair is finished and streaked, in odd places, with an orange-brown color. She looks a little like she belongs in Jem and the Holograms. "Cool," lies Steven. "I like the stripes." Lizzie brats that it's horrible, and that Larice ruined her hair, and waaah, that's what you get for thinking "Nice-n-Easy" is a title that represents truth in advertising. Come to think of it, this is all Julia Louis-Dreyfus's fault for making the world believe you can dye your hair on a bus. I never did trust her. Rachel chokes that it might look better once it's dry. "It couldn't be any dryer!" shrieks Lizzie, stomping away. In the other room, the guys start chanting, "Steven! Steven! Steven!" For his part, Steven looks sick that he's missing the antics of naughty college good-girls who get hold of cameras and go horribly awry. He tries to excuse himself, but Rachel insists that he go attend to Lizzie. Steven wants to fall through the floor.
Eric clears his throat and positions himself in his best ladykilling lean, while adjusting his Grandpa sweater and patting the pocket to make sure there's plenty of Werther's Originals in there, because that's where all good memories start. A large blonde in pleather pants sashays inside and licks Greg. Two brunettes follow. "Are you Eric?" one girl asks hungrily. "Only if you're Alice," he grins. She sticks out her tongue and shows off the shiny silver stud implanted there. The third girl sizes up Eugene and flees with a sudden sore throat. "Where's mine going?" Eugene whines.
A woman in lacy underwear prepares to tear them off. The guys cheer, but Ron is mildly disturbed. "She should give us beads," he snipes. Shaggy and Heath celebrate. Cut to Hal holding a bag of Frito-Lay's chips and gawking in delight and disgust. I love that Hal has suddenly appeared. It's oddly perfect.
Lizzie's back in the stylist's chair, this time with Rachel and Larice working on her tresses. I'm not sure at what point she was reluctant to throw on a hat and find a stylist off-campus -- she is apparently both dim and lazy. Steven blathers, "Rach will fix it before you can say 'bad hair day'!" He then tries to sidle back across the hall, but Lizzie wheedles that she desperately needs reassurance. "I'm scared," she whimpers. Steven can't handle all this and plops back down in his chair, dreaming of the debauchery that's so near, but so far. "Steven, I've discovered your new mother!" Hal shouts. "Yeah, and she's young and drunk," Ron adds. Steven pretends not to hear this. Rachel massages Lizzie's scalp and comes up with a handful of bleached-blonde hair. Terrified, she tosses it in the sink, as Larice's and Steven's eyes bug out.
Back in happier days, when Lizzie's hair was one color and affixed semi-permanently to her head, she let Eric use her as a model for Kopy Town. So her old yearbook photo is hanging on the wall at the shop in all kinds of shapes and sizes, and with different effects, which advertise the Kopy Town treatment. She is wearing a really innocent-looking floral dress. "So is that the whore?" Alice asks, nodding at Lizzie. Janice hisses at her, but Eric's okay with that designation. "That's the whore," he says. Alice decides to lick her teeth and play with her tongue stud. Eric notices it and reddens. "You likey?" she asks. "I do, I likey," he blushes. "It does the trick," Alice sasses. Everyone but Eugene cracks up. He stares at everyone, confused, then bursts out with a bleat of laughter to cover his ignorance. He's the very image of befuddlement. Alice makes up a bogus line about wanting to see the paper dungeon so that she can screw Eric in private. She doesn't waste time. She likes to do her whoring quickly and without foreplay.
So, sitting on a bunch of crates of paper, Alice suckles Eric's cheek and tries to mount him while probing him with her studded tongue. He kisses back for a while, and then pulls away, choking, which has to feel really good if you're Alice and you're practically a professional trick-turner. I almost killed a high-school boyfriend once simply by kissing him. I'd been eating potato chips that were cooked in peanut oil, and he came over an hour later and we made out for a while, and when he left, he started feeling woozy and had to go to the hospital. Turns out I'd forgotten he's allergic to nuts, and so kissing me gave him an allergic reaction and he'd left his injection kit at home. Oops. Eric, apparently, has swallowed Alice's tongue stud. "No problem," she says calmly. "Janice's brother swallowed it, too. When it comes out the other end, give it to Janice, and she'll pass it along." Alice moves in for more, but Eric's completely sickened by the fact that she pierced her tongue (and then used it to stroke his) with something that was once excrement. "That was in another guy's ass?" he gapes. "What? I cleaned it," she says defensively. But their moment of passion is no more. Eric's as limp as an episode of That '80s Show. He takes her hand and softly says, "I think you're such a special girl, and I'm sorry if I did anything to hurt you." It's obvious here that the actress, Kim Field, is biting her cheeks to keep from laughing. She struggles to get out her line -- "This is so lame" -- and leaves quickly so that we don't notice she's in stitches.
Janice and Greg are in front of the copy shop eating lunch off each other's teeth. Eugene is placidly cutting paper. Alice storms out. "Let's meet Celeste at Abujay's," she steams. So Greg thinks Janice is sleeping with Abujay, and there's a part that's way too long where they bellow at each other, and no one cares. Kyle just slices away at paper, ignoring all the Mary J. Blige-style hateration and holleration, because he too knows they're tertiary characters and it's time to switch back to more important people. Eric grabs the phone and announces that he's calling Lizzie. "I tried to stop him," lies Eugene, who hasn't moved from his spot. Greg can't believe Eric's still stuck on Lizzie, and calls her a whore, which riles Eric and turns this scene into something slightly more serious than I was expecting. I'm not mature enough for this. Eric and Greg almost come to blows, but Eugene wends his ample way between them and the whole scuffle flies to the corner of the room, where they crash against a copier with a shattering sound.
CopierCam. We see Eric peering down at us, and there's a big crack across us. Eugene and Greg gawk, too. "Oh, God, the Worksetter Pro," moans Eric, burying his face in his hands. This has gone too far. Now it's personal. When you mess with him, that's one thing, but when you mess with one of his little mechanical children, it's Go Time. So that it doesn't get uglier, Eric screams at Eugene and Greg to get the hell away from him. They disappear, then try one more gawk before Eric shoos them completely. Alone, Eric weeps for the broken Worksetter that is his heart.
Lizzie's hair is now totally frizzed out. It's all one color, but that color is best described as "manure." She is certain suicide is her only option. Steven cavalierly suggests that she just dye it back. "It's not that simple, Steven!" she menaces. "If I dye my hair too many times it will all fall out, and if I don't, I'll look like Shrek!" Steven sarcastically apologizes for not understanding the intricacies of beautification. "Stop yelling at me!" Lizzie screams. Everyone sort of jumps backward.
And then, a beacon of hope: Perry. When I find myself in times of trouble, Brother Perry comes to me, speaking words of wisdom: Let it be. Perry peeks into the room, confident that he can cure a bad dye job. "This is neither the time nor the place," Steven says, certain that Perry brings with him a whole bag of tomfoolery, complete with hijinks and a dash of wacky misadventure. But no, Perry's sincere -- he's been coloring his prematurely gray locks since age fifteen. "Really?" gasps Lizzie. "Oh, okay, now I'm the freak? Yeah, stick with that, Garfield," Perry smarms, without stopping for oxygen. Lizzie hesitantly asks if he's positive he can fix her hair. "Have you seen me?" he grins. "I'll get my stuff." Steven admits that Perry's hair would definitely win Best in Show if this was a dog contest, and Perry a terrier. A Perr-ier. Hee.
Eric gazes sadly at a home video of himself and Lizzie in her bedroom. She's lying on her bed studying psychology, "because [Eric is] insane." They tease and flirt on-camera while Eric watches adoringly from his brown chair. Lizzie has grabbed the camera, and there's Eric, wearing a black bra and pair of panties over his eye, growling, "I'm Redbeard the Pirate, and I've come for your booty!" That was a disturbing turn of events. Eric and Lizzie kiss and cuddle, while she promises to love him forever and he pretends to turn off the camera. We see Eric from an ever-closer vantage point that makes me pity him, as his eyes are totally forlorn, but has the unfortunate side effect of making Jason Segel look very old.
Ben Stiller is on his basement weight bench drinking a Red Bull. He's wearing poofy and over-patterned 1980s pants with white hi-tops and a t-shirt-turned-tank-top that reads, "Will Work For Sex." Yeah, and he's gonna have to. "Want to talk about your relationship?" Ben nods sagely. "You know what a relationship is? Real Exciting Love Affair Turns Into Ongoing Nightmare; Sobriety Hangs In Peril." He pauses. "Or something like that. I have it tattooed on my back. Want to read it?" Eric does not. "Want to check the arm?" Ben offers, pointing to a passage etched onto his shoulder. "Maybe it's time to check it." Eric shakes his head again. "Sometimes I check it," Ben admits. "And it's on my arm." Eric stops the nonsense and cops to missing Lizzie deeply. Is that news? Hadn't we established that fifteen minutes ago? Or did it just feel that way? Ben hangs his head and says softly that Lizzie reminds him of a great girl from his past. "Her name is...your mother," Ben nods huskily. I love that line. Ben preaches the virtues of a good woman's love, claiming nothing is better, except Ecstasy. "Want to do some Ecstasy?" he asks, hopefully. Eric's all, "We don't have time. Your cameo is almost over." Ben pretends he didn't either, and was just testing Eric, and probably has no idea that his two little soul patches are lopsided. Ben wants to do more reps, and lies down on the bench.
Perry, acting all Dances With Follicles and shit, firmly directs the restoration of Lizzie's hair as if he's Jon Favreau or something. Steven aims for subtletly, wondering how long this will take, but he misses badly and wins Lizzie's wrath. "Would you stop snapping at me?" Steven bristles. "I'm not the one who messed up your hair. I'm supporting you." Lizzie sneers, "Oh, by trying to get out of here to watch a bunch of drunk hos show their boobs for no reason?" Steven is aghast. "There's a reason -- they do it for beads!" he yells. Another great line. Lizzie glares at Steven and calls him a jerk, snottily swearing that Eric wouldn't treat her so disrespectfully. Steven suggests that she go call Eric and get her yell on, leaving him alone. He storms out.
Ben opens the door to the Goon Squad. There's some unfunny stuff making Ben look like a twelve-stepper desperate for a partner in backtracking, and unable to find one. He directs Greg and Eugene to Eric, who's sitting in his car stewing. The boys tell Eric to step on it -- they're going to UNEC. A slow, determined smile breaks across Eric's face. "Let's beat traffic," he snarls. Greg brightens. "Shotgun!" he calls. Eugene wails in protest.
The freshmen and Hal are glued to the television, and they're watching WWF wrestling. One of the Dudley Boyz is savaging Lita. Steven wants to know what he's missed -- and apparently, he's missed it all. They're done. "No boobs, no P.B.," announces P.B., who leaves. Hal staggers slowly to his feet. "I feel dirty," he moans. "I don't like myself right now." Heath still tosses him the Spring Break cassette, and Hal is grateful. He promises to return it "once I'm done with it." Steven doesn't look nearly as skeeved by this as he should. He plops dejectedly into a chair. There's no cookie dough left for him, and Shaggy pretty much passed out in his seat, his arm still clutching a giant bin that's been emptied. He pouts. And Bubba Ray Dudley does something fiendish and sadistic to his opponent, as usual.
Lizzie looks pensive.
Eric's car screeches down the road, speeding.
Steven glumly stares at a photograph.
Eric's tires squeal again as he parks illegally in front of the dorm.
The photo Steven's holding is of him and Lizzie hugging in front of a tree, and Steven's priceless expression is one of someone who hates being in photos and doesn't know how to seem natural in one. I should know. I am that person. I have actually hidden behind other people in group shots. Steven chucks the photo onto his bed and strides purposefully around the dorm in search of his girlfriend.
As Steven heads down the hall, Lizzie rounds a corner, her dark hair sleek and glossy and straight. Ordinarily, I'd rant here about the unfairness of girls morphing into perfect models simply by straightening their hair -- as if curls are a hallmark of ugly ducklings -- but I think I'm getting too militant about that, what with the way I yelled at Keri Russell when a Felicity promo came on last night. Plus, I straighten my hair all the time for special occasions. So in a sense, I'm a giant hypocrite. Hooray! "I am so sorry," Steven blurts. "Your hair looks beautiful." Lizzie scowls adorably. "Better than Girls Gone Wild?" she pouts. Steven swears it's a thousand times better, and they bolt for each other. "That's all I wanted!" she coos. They kiss. "God, their hair sucks," Steven says when he breaks for air. Hee. The elevator door opens right when Steven's tongue goes in for the kill, and Eric's smiling, happy face falls into a shocked and crushed expression. Greg and Eugene gape. "Close the door," Eugene mutters. Greg hits the button, and as the doors close, Eric makes a charge at the happy couple. His friends hold him back. That was sad! I actually felt sorry for Eric, even though Steven is my main hero.
Outside, Eric leaves Lizzie a telephone message that's very calm, thanking her for RSVPing to the party. His friends nod that he sounded like he doesn't need her in the slightest. "Good, that's right where I want her," Eric grins dopeishly. Cut to the car, where Eric hands Eugene the tongue stud and asks him to return it to Alice, suggesting that perhaps they can get it on. Eugene, thrilled, puts it in his mouth and imitates Alice. They crack up. "Where'd you get it?" Eugene asks, delighted. And, we're out.