Lemon meets the Germans in Jack's office and they all speak in German, as Germans are wont to do, but Lemon's Deutsche is as bad as her co-op banter. She makes no sense and can't understand them either. Tensions haven't been this high since the first Die Hard movie. She says something in German to resolve matters and the head German is suddenly very happy. He and his countrymen wring their fists in approval and do some kind of post-home run celebration thing with their hands. Liz just bought a German television station.

Back in Not Central Park, Jack and C.C. enjoy another quiet stroll in the wilderness of the little hamlet they've posted up in. Neither of them has thought about work the entire weekend. "I know, it's weird," says C.C. "Good weird, or last night weird?" asks Jack. Alec Baldwin just won another Golden Globe.

Tracy is having the cappuccino machine removed from the premises. Kenneth wants it back so desperately, he turns into Pookie from New Jack City. "C'mon! I'll make you feel good." It's to no avail, and Tracy gives Kenneth a wakeup call. Kenneth looks himself in the mirror to see just how far he's fallen. The city has changed him. He's coffee-addicted; he went to a PG-13 movie; he bought sunglasses; he tried a Jewish doughnut. Not unlike the Midnight Cowboy, he's been molested by New York and Tracy is merely his Ratzo. Its time to go home for greener pastures, dear boy Kenneth. Mamma waits.

Lemon is in her apartment pouring herself white wine, and in a series of phone calls to the co-op board members, she gets the following messages across: She's doing great. Where are you, co-op board? (While on the bathroom floor.) She knows who she is. Where are you, though, co-op board? Call me back? (While singing Alanis.) She feels sorry for you, co-op board. She hopes you feel sorry for making her go to the hospital. (While on a treadmill.) She's moved on. The white wine flows in a drunk-dialing spell rivaled only by Paul Giamatti's in Sideways. "What is it with white people and white wine and telephones?" asks my imaginary friend Blackzilla. He asked it rhetorically, so I don't answer.