Upstairs, Eric obsessively tries on shirts, looking for the one in the dullest shade of gray. You know, he's finding the shirt that reads best on radio. The shirt with the most vibrational qualities. Or maybe the least. I'm sure he was hired, then got all excited and dashed home to find his lucky shirt, then realized that nothing lucky ever happened to him and just decided to try them all on. Annie comes upstairs, looking stormy. Eric, an idiot, turns to her and asks her what she thinks. She says that's "a loaded question if [she] ever heard one." What a bizarre thing to say; is it such a loaded question because she rarely thinks? Or because she too often shares her thoughts on matters when her input may not be required? Either way, she lets him have it. A month ago, her husband was a minister. Now, he's a DJ. She speaks the line we saw all week on the ads, that she "married a minister, not a DJ!" It's called flexibility, Annie. Learn some. Try by first unclenching your buttocks. Annie pleads, "Give me my husband back!" Eric says he meant what did she think about the shirt. She says the shirt is fine, but she's "not so sure about the man who's wearing it." I'll give you a hint: he's an idiot.
Deep inside the most unfinished of rooms, a uniformed Kevin grills Lucy. Lucy casually applies blush (gilding the ugliest lily still won't help) and says "no," because she "doesn't feel like it." "It" being hanging out in the pool hall with Roxanne and her pals. Jesus, Kevin, get some other friends. Kevin is infuriated that Lucy doesn't want to hang out with Roxanne, and still doesn't know why Lucy doesn't want to spend more time with his hot partner. Lucy says she doesn't want to explain herself for the millionth time, and splits to go to the library. Wow, is Lucy growing a spine? An eeny weenie ittle bittle spiney-winey? Aww, it's so cute!
Lucy stomps downstairs and is intercepted by Annie, who wants a word. Kevin brushes by the two women brusquely. Annie is all, what's the problem? I'd say Kevin is the problem. He's imposing, unreasonable, inflexible, and a jerk. And a bit of a fascist. And run over by the ugly car, which then backed up and ran over him again, rendering him pug-fugly beyond repair. Pull the plug on the T-1000, Lucy. You're ugly as well, but that doesn't mean you can't find love again. Is there a school for the blind nearby? Maybe start hanging out there. Be sure to find the blind man who is also impervious to your personality. Lucy says the problem is and always has been Roxanne. Lucy asks, "outside of Charlie's Angels," has her mom ever seen such a hot lady cop? Why couldn't Kevin be partnered with an overweight lady with bad skin? Because beauty is only skin deep. And the Camdens, while generally svelte, are shallow dish city. Annie says she doesn't know, and did Lucy help her dad get a job at the college radio station? Yes, she did! And it'll all work out to a good end, she swears. Lucy thinks this job will "help him get back in the spirit of things, so to speak." What? The so-called spirit? Anyway, Lucy has to go. But oh, how's Robbie? Down with his mother in Florida, Annie reports. She's "better now that he's with her." What? Robbie's mom? Lucy squinches up her wizened face and asks when he'll be coming back. Sometime after Christmas, says Annie. And his teachers let him take his finals early. What an undignified way to be written off the show. It's not even a C-plot. It's not even filler. It's just so bare and hollow and false. So very SevHev.
Kitchen. Ruthie sprays way too much Pledge on the table and lightly wipes it. Rub, woman. Put your bony back into it. Use some scrawny elbow grease. Annie pops in and asks Ruthie to watch the boys, as she has to run some errands. And ooh, it's her first day off restriction. Any plans? Ruthie says, "Baby-sitting." Annie says, "Jake?" Annie? Quit pimping out your twelve-year-old daughter. Get her a hobby that isn't domestic chores or boy-centric. Jake, apparently, "called every day" while Ruthie was on restriction. Didn't it sink into that little boy-slut's head that Ruthie wasn't allowed to use the phone? What a dumbass. That's not all Jake did, says Ruthie. When he wasn't calling, he was "following [Ruthie] around at school, getting [their] lunches switched so [they] could sit together, carrying [her] backpack. Once he even offered to carry [her] gum. [Her] gum!" I used to work at a rock club here in Philly, and I saw Juliana Hatfield offer her ABC gum to the crowd. Someone took it. That is gross. Ruthie concludes by saying that she never wants to see Jake again. Annie cocks her head and says nothing. Creepy.