Since they can't go make out with boys, Ruthie suggests they do makeovers, or maybe play with their hair. Can Little Muslim Girl wear makeup, and take off that hijab? Little Muslim Girl gets so freaking righteous on Ruthie that I wonder why she even came over to the CamPound. She says it isn't that she's not allowed to wear make-up (which she isn't), but that she "likes [her] face. Hello? [She's] twelve." And she'll leave the head scarf on, thank you. Her "beauty is [her] privacy," and she wants to save that for her husband. Hey, I don't see any husband. Hell-oooo, you're twelve. As she speaks, she shimmies her shoulders like Charo. Ruthie says she hopes she didn't offend Little Muslim Girl. Of course not. See you in hell! Muslim Girl says they're just getting to know each other. What a joyless, senseless, useless process. What, will she move in after the getting-to-know-you is over? Run, little Muslim Girl. Run as fast as your little legs can take you. Not that I saw your legs under your long skirt! I'm just making an assumption! The phone rings -- it's Jake, Ruthie's b.f. He wants to come over. LMG says she can go home. Ruthie shoots her b.f. down and says they're too "busy" for a visit from a boy. LMG is all, it's okay! I can go! Ruthie says, "Sorry. Busy. Bye." Yasmin the Muslim girl is all, damn. Trapped. Trapped with the idiot Christian robots. Mmm, maybe I can have some white bread while I'm here. White bread with...what's that stuff? Mayonnaise. The twins, pushed by the invisible hand of G-d, wander in and introduce themselves. When they walk in, they have cans of Play-Doh in each hand; then we get a reaction shot of the girls on the bed; then we cut back, and the scary robot boys are -- ugh -- holding hands. The shorter one with the straighter hair is Sam; the bigger, curly-haired one is David. Drink! Ruthie is all, WE KNOW.
Rabbi Lewis and RevEric discuss their spying plan. Rabbi Lewis says it isn't a plan, but rather "a caper, hijinks, an escapade!" You forgot "stupid." Annie walks in, and her Trouble Radar goes off. Instead of turning into a snarling hydra, shredding newspapers and tearing at her bad husband's flesh, she just asks what escapade they're talking about. Rabbi Lewis is all, "Escalade!" Like the Cadillac. Right. Oh, and Rabbi Lewis is taking him out for a drive. They decide that Ruthie, a twelve-year-old, can watch the twins on her own. Oh, the responsibility! Won't she die? Annie is all, "You two aren't up to something, are you?" Of course they are. Hijinks. A caper. She says that Eric is recovering from "heart surgery," really punching the words in case you miss the gravity of the situation. She's out the door to her PTA meeting, leaving Rabbi Lewis to marvel at her "veiled threat" and say that his wife usually tells him what she "won't do to him," if you get his meaning. I won't tell the many jokes in my brain filed under "Jewish women, sex not liking." You may have heard a few. You know -- how can you tell if a Jewish woman is having an orgasm? During intercourse, she drops her nail file. Eric says Annie's revenge is limited since he just had heart surgery, leaving the unspoken "one can't fuck right after a bypass" dangling. Note to self: Never have a bypass. Or a baby. Rabbi Lewis calls himself "silly rabbi" and knocks his forehead in the "I should have had a V-8" gesture.