Luc stumbles out of the bathroom looking like all smiley and well-rested and glowing. Like he just either wanked or walked off a Calvin Klein billboard. Sarah's progesterone rub kicks in and she starts growling at him to "come here, tiger," but he refuses. You see, that glow there? It's not natural. Not just because onanism is wrong, but because it is actually a spray tan. He was trying not to mention it, because even though he is an underwear model, spray tanning is just not sexy. But he had to tell her because he can't have Sarah getting his junk all streaky and stuff before his big look-see today. Sarah makes a pouty face, as Luc goes to get dressed. Wait, what? If your spray tan is still streakable, how you going to put on a white shirt? Anyway, she pouts some more and asks him if he wants to do some romantic snuggling or something tonight. He shrugs, "sure" because "sure" is the response all women want when they suggest romance. They teach that response in French boyfriend school! He blows her a kiss from a distance and heads off. In a white sweater. No streaks.

Meanwhile, a bobby-pinned Nora is talking into a strainer she has named Francine about self esteem. Um, if someone is close by can they go make sure Nora is taking her meds? She thanks all her listeners (the tea pot, the whisk) and goes to a word from her sponsor (the GE family of products) before Justin walks in and administers a shot of Haldol. Nora is super embarrassed because, you know, medicating your crazy into submission is your responsibility. She pretends she wasn't doing anything at all, she wasn't talking to anyone. She goes to stand in a corner to see if Justin will disappear, but he doesn't, because he is not imaginary, unlike "Francine". Nora finally confesses that she has a try-out for the radio show today. Remember the radio show? The one where the producer was just sitting in a bar and offered her a job even though she didn't have any experience because she yelled with élan? It's like how Rebecca, an ersatz mom-made fruit advertising expert, just sent some pictures she snapped on her cell phone to Tribeca Magazine in New York City and they hired her because she was just a natural. I'm sure those sorts of things happen all the time in L.A. They don't call it la-la-land for nothing.

Justin is just as shocked as we all are that this is actually happening. Nora explains that the show is going to be called "Dear Mom" and she is going to be the mom! She admits she doesn't have a lot of experience in the workplace, but they want a real mom with real mom ideas and she is more than qualified for that role. Justin, who apparently has some preternatural ability to see this as the complete bullshit that it is, asks again why they would want Nora, exactly? She smiles and offers to give him some advice for free (strangely, it's not shut the hell up, which is advice I frequently give) but some heartfelt wisdom on how he can start to sleep again after Rebecca left him for an illustrious career hunting unicorns. She suggests chocolate cake, because chocolate cake is the answer to whatever the problem, yes, even the ones on the SATs. Justin thinks she is going to rock the interview.