7th Heaven
Peer Pressure

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Under Pressure

Inside the CamPound, Eric walks around aimlessly upstairs, hears voices below ("You're wrong." "No, you're wrong!"), and heads downstairs to check things out. Because hearing strange voices in his house isn't cause for alarm; it only means it's time to get your preach on. If you don't know who's arguing in your living room, don't call 911. Call the Naggin' Wagon! Eric isn't just a client. He's also the president. Naggin' Wagon Industries, when you just want to bludgeon people with your turgid platitudes!

Eric tiptoes downstairs, one hand over his heart (hint: he just had bypass surgery, and this gesture is a subtle reminder that he's still on the mend. Plus, anvils are heavy. And, I hate this stupid show). Downstairs, a rabbi and a little Muslim girl walk into a bar...I mean, "are arguing." Have you ever heard this one? A man is walking though a Belfast alleyway, late at night. Someone sneaks up behind him, holds a knife to his throat, and asks, "Are ye Catholic, or are ye Protestant?" The man sweats as he wonders how to answer. Finally he blurts out, "I'm Jewish!" The man holding the knife chuckles and says, "Aye, I've got to be the luckiest Arab in Belfast tonight!" It's good if you do it with an Irish accent. Get it -- because the Arabs hate the Jews, "ha" "ha"! Oh, it's funny because it's true. But if all the conflict of late makes you nervous about such jokes, substitute Turks and Greeks, or Yankees and Southerners. It's all about the accent when you tell the joke, see. But all this conflict doesn't scare Barry Watson. He's all, conflict? HA! Bring it on. He can take the scariest of real-life issues and water them down 'til they're weaker than a kitten. He can pablum it up with infants until they crawl away, bored with the topic. Yes, Barry Watson -- genius of the mundane. Anyway, the rabbi, played by Richard Lewis (I love him on Curb Your Enthusiasm, hate him on this slop) and the little Muslim girl face off and go at it. He says his "team" has "more spirit, yes [they] do." They have more spirit, how about you? The little girl screams, WE'VE GOT SPIRIT, YES WE DO! No, but I'd love it if they went back and forth like this for a while. Then, a round of "tastes great!" "Less filling!" Of course, "tastes great" wins. The Rabbi's team has "more heart" and they "play to win." The Muslim girl says her team "actually wins, a lot. Face it, most of the time, we are the champions." My friend. They'll keep on fighting. To the end. Which may be soon! Just kidding. Not really. Rabbi Lewis is all, "We may have once been the lovable losers, but now we are formidable foes." I know who the suckiest sucks that ever sucked are. They start with a number seven, and the second part rhymes with...well, you know. And he doesn't want to talk history with a little girl, so he offers to skip over "1969 and 1986."

RevCam walks up behind this non-blistering "debate," hand still over his heart in the most unsubtle of gestures, and does not say what everyone is thinking, which is: Who the hell are you people and what are you doing in my house? Do you have business here? No? Then there's the door. Use it. Eric says, dully, as if in pain, "Stop!" The little Muslim girl asks, "Who's the better team? The Yankees or the Mets?" Rabbi Lewis: "Mets!" Little girl: "Yankees!" Me: "Tastes great!" Eric says stupidly, "That's what you were arguing about? Baseball?" No, the Yankees and the Mets are secret code for Jews and Muslims. Fooled you. Eric can't weigh in on such an important topic, says he "has to go now," and wanders away. In his living room, the debate rages on. Rabbi Lewis says that even the Mets' bobble-head dolls beat the Yankees. You know, this debate sucks. I have to say I hate the Mets (I live in Philadelphia; they'll kill me if I say otherwise), and I hate rooting for a winning team like the Yankees; I hate the Lakers for the same reason. I'll have to follow Eric's route and slink out so Sars, baseball freak of all time, doesn't wear out her lungs on me.

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7th Heaven

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