"I think when we go through those periods of not talking," says Allie in a VO, "finally, when we talk, we're like, 'I love you.'" Then Allie and her mother hug in a completely different time period. I know it's a different time period because Allie and her mother are no longer in the Italian restaurant but are in their apartment, and Allie's mother is wearing a baseball cap. My heartfelt thanks to the producers for whipping the Bunim-Murray rulebook out of their closet and bringing us into the world of "there is no time, only Bunim-Murray time."
Pueblo lamely smokes in his car. Yes, he lamely smokes. He puts the cigarette in his mouth, barely sucks, and then blows out a piddly little stream of smoke. He is not a real smoker. I know this because I am now smoking what might be my four-hundredth American Spirit of the night. I suck in, I blow out. The stream of smoke that exudes from my lungs is truly amazing. I do not gingerly hold the cigarette. I do not gingerly put it to my lips. I do not gingerly blow out. There is nothing "gingerly" about my smoking. There is everything "gingerly" about Pueblo's smoking. Smoke, dude. SMOKE. Before I have to come over there and thrust my crusty lungs into your face.
"What I want is to be living on my own," says Loser Smoke Boy. "And I'm gonna do whatever I can. And before, I thought I could do that with the Marines. Now, I'm gonna have to deal with my mom and I was so ready to just move out and move on."
Quick. Grab a pylon. We're gonna beat him with it and then stuff his head into it and then leave him on the highway.
Pueblo enters his living room and says something to his mother about having wanted to borrow money from her, but since she didn't trust him, he's offering up his cell phone as collateral. "If I don't return the thirty dollars to you," he says, firmly entrenching himself within my Den of Iniquity, "pawn it and keep the money." Mama Pueblo is having none of it. "Sit down and hear me first!" she demands.
Pueblo and his mother launch into an argument as Stephanie -- in another room, or maybe the same room, it's not really clear -- tries to amuse herself while her loved ones caw at each other like crows.
"I was just asking to borrow thirty dollars, Mom," says Pueblo, "if you don't want me to, that's fine!" "Pablo," shouts his mother, obviously unaware of his new nickname, "try to be a man!" "I AM a man! I just don't need you to --" retorts Pueblo. And this is where it gets ugly. I mean, so ugly that I can't even write down what they say to each other. Not because I won't, but because I CAN'T. They're both talking so goddamn fast I can't keep up. What is WITH this episode anyway? Huh? It's so goddamn dialogue-heavy that I've got barely enough room to give forth my pithy commentary! Jesus!