Elisa tells Jack something in Spanish, and in a very accusatory tone. Back at Lemon's place, she and the doctor share a moment on the couch. He looks ready to kiss her, but Lemon excuses herself to the other room. She turns up the volume of the stereo, and when she's clear of the doctor, hunches over with the cramps. "Cheese stew, what was I thinking?" It's a painfully accurate moment for anyone who has ever tried to score with a virtual stranger at his or her apartment. Any kind of bowel movement during courtship is an unwelcomed, unplanned and unavoidable madcap circumstance, especially as it pertains to cheddar. The smoke alarm in the kitchen goes off, and so Dr. Baird walks over to check on the brownies in the oven. Lemon says it's okay to take them out, "but whatever you do, don't open that kitchen window." Of course, he opens the kitchen window. A draft of wind is ushered in and blows open the bathroom door while she's still planted on the toilet. Dr. Baird sees Lemon in the bathroom and yells "Too soon!" The boob spill was like going from date #1 to date #4, but this has them at date #20. Lemon apologizes, Dr. Baird reminds her that he's a doctor, and then his phone rings. It's a call from his ex-wife Mandy. She's downstairs and is dropping off their daughter Bethany, unannounced. He explains that normally his mother could help watch Bethany, but she's sick in the hospital, and then he proposes something interesting. Between the boob slip, the bathroom blooper, and now this, why don't they continue the date, warts and all. He calls it the express train to a relationship, and asks if Lemon's on board? "I'm on the train," she says.
Elisa tells Jack that they can leave, but only after they both go to confession. Now is as good a time as any for me to mention that I'm a lapsed Catholic. Confession is a wonderful exercise in the life of a teenage boy. It's really the only age when one can open up to a complete stranger -- usually an adult male -- about how many times he has masturbated to nude drawings of She-Hulk:
"I don't quite understand, my son. These nude drawings -- they are in a comic book?"
"Not quite, Father."
"Because it would seem inappropriate for a publishing company to sell such books to young children, negligent at best."
"I drew the naked pictures of She-Hulk in my notebook, Father."
"And then masturbated to them?"
"Drawn or traced?"
"Excuse me Father?"
"I'm asking if you drew them? Anyone can trace, after all. To draw is an actual skill."
"Oh. Well then, I traced them, I suppose."
"Two Hail Mary's for the masturbation. Five Our Father's for the omission that you traced instead of drew. It is creatively dishonest."