Gilbert and Julie meet with their lawyers. At first they're sitting right next to each other, holding hands. Larry and Jackson argue over the pre-nup, voicing all sorts of suspicions and then physically dragging their respective clients apart. Larry lays out his own pre-nup proposal. Jackson refuses it, telling Gilbert that it's now reasonable to assume that Julie only wants to marry for money. Gilbert's insecurity comes into play as he agrees. He and Jackson leave the room as Julie starts to cry. See, these two need to have one of those special marriages that they started doing in Louisiana or wherever. You know -- the ones where you not only say vows, but you also swear to God that you won't break the vows you just swore to uphold. If they had real family values, that's what they'd do instead of all this harum-scarum Satan-inspired pre-nuptial stuff. Plus, Julie would quit her job and let Gilbert tell her what to do from now on. Obviously, they're not really in love.
Elaine tells her woes to Richard and asks for his advice. Richard tells her to take notes as he offers his reasoned-out excuses. He makes up all this anthropological crap involving jealousy and the semen of other men. It's sort of funny because it's a take on the type of relationship self-help non-fiction that I hate most of all. It's not funny enough for me to transcribe word for word, though. It ends with, "You slept with this other man because you want to have Mark's child." Elaine crosses out all the notes she's taken.
Ling and Nelle spy on Mr. Thompson as he happily whistles so soon after the death of his wife. Ling then walks over to Mr. Thompson so that he can tell her that he's planning to have his blood clot drained. He needs to stop being happy so that he can properly grieve for his wife, he says. Ling puts her hand on his arm. How sentimental.
I see the Old Navy commercial about the $6.50 tanks and the boot-cut Capri pants for the seventh or eighth time. That's it, dammit. One more time and I'm driving to the mall. Oh, wait…no, I'm not, because this commercial gets on my nerves. Also, I can't fit my fat ass into Old Navy clothes, no matter what it says on the tags of my clothes and theirs.
Next thing we know, Ling's sitting next to Henry Thompson's hospital bed, asking him if he's sure he wants his clot drained. He's sure. The doctor comes in to tell us that Mr. Thompson will be up and around that night. I can't believe they hired an extra actor to play a doctor just for this one filler scene.