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Queen B.

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Queen B.

Next day, Smug Bitch and Brooke walk into school, Brooke complaining about how lame Sam is. "At least it couldn’t get any worse," she says, apparently forgetting that those words always trigger cosmically bad events. Of course, just to prove that I’m right (thanks, God), something nasty is waiting just around the corner. Bam! The hallway is plastered with giant posters: "Brooke McQueen, The Queen Who Forgot Your Name." The picture is the Brooke-sick picture that fell out of Sam’s notebook just a few TV days ago (surprise! Not). Everyone thinks that Sam did it, because Sam’s an asshole. Even Carmen thinks Sam did it. Now Sam’s in the doghouse with everyone. Again. I wonder if they’ll patch it up by the end of the show? Okay, I don’t wonder that at all. Not really.

In the lunchroom, Smug Bitch and Josh sit around listening to Brooke rag on herself for not knowing people’s names. Smug Bitch: "Um, let’s not use the plural here. You didn’t know Freddie Gong’s name because he’s a loser." Thanks, SB. We can always trust you not to put too fine a point on things. Josh blows a bunch of smoke up Brooke’s ass about how she’s even foxy when she’s sick or something. Brooke, though, can’t just say thanks, but instead has to go on and on about how the poster is right, about how nobody at school has ever seen her be real until this picture was papered all over the walls blah blah blah, Freddie Gong is a real person with real feelings blah blah blah. Like she’s having some sort of "epiphany" or "realization about her character" or something like that. Mmm hmm. Right. Meanwhile, at the Powerful Ladies of Color table, Lady T and Poppy are trying to win Little Big Head over to their side. But the camera shifts to sad Carmen sitting with Sometimes-You-Feel-Like-A-Blue-Streak-Sometimes-You-Don’t (a.k.a. Harrison), and we know that Poppy is going to have a hard time convincing LBH to vote for anyone but a fellow Brown. And isn’t Ferrera a kind of Latin-y name, anyway? Carmen certainly counts as the fat minority. Because she is. Fat, that is. Don’t forget. While LBH is considering defecting, Sam approaches the Brown table, but gets roundly bagged on by Harrison and Carmen for being so lame. Neither one of them believes her, and Carmen fires Sam as her campaign manager. Oooh. Then the Brown team performs a tandem snit worthy of the Olympics, leaving Sam standing all alone in the cafeteria. Aw. Sucks to be you, huh, Sam?

Later that night, in the Palace (I’m going to have to think of a better name for the McQueen house than that. That’s simply not clever enough), Brooke discovers that Jane has moved all the water glasses from one kitchen cabinet to another. Uh-oh. Then Sam comes home. Double uh-oh (that’s "uh-oh uh-oh," for those who need the thrill of reading it firsthand). Brooke, Jane, and Mike turn on Sam like animals, tearing her limb from bloody limb, laughing maniacally, and devouring her internal organs with savage glee. Or at least they all accuse her of making the nasty poster, thus prompting her to move into the Utility Room with her favorite lamp. Whatever. Shut up, Sam.

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