Back from commercials, Willow and Tara are getting dressed in Joyce's room. Wait. That doesn't sound quite right. What I mean is, it appears that Willow and Tara have moved into the Summers's house and are staying in what used to be Joyce's room. Willow is looking for her clogs; Tara suggests that Dawn has them. As Willow looks for Dawn (hee, Dawn's room is a mess), she and Tara discuss that Willow is nervous about "today" for some unspecified reason. The witchlets share a loving kiss while discussing breakfast. Willow, wearing a T-shirt featuring the number eleven, finds Dawn brushing her teeth in the bathroom, but she's not the culprit who took Willow's clogs. Downstairs, the 'Bot is fiddling with a jar of jelly. Willow enters the kitchen. She wants to review the 'Bot's programming, but Tara opines, "She's either ready to face this thing or she's not." Dawn enters the kitchen and inquires, "What's up with the mega-wiches?" There's some confusion about whether she's talking -wiches or witches, but then we see that the 'Bot has created three huge stacks of PB&J sandwiches. Tara forgot to tell the 'Bot to "un-start" her helping. Xander enters from outside, declaring, "House of chicks, relax. I am a man and I have a tool." The "chicks" all stare. "Tools," corrects Xander, and takes possession of a huge stack of sandwiches. Xander is wearing a shirt with the number thirteen. What's going on here? The phone rings. The 'Bot wants to answer it, but everyone is worried; Dawn hopes it's her dad on the phone. I know everybody has their special Buffy pet peeve; for some, it's that Amy hasn't been de-ratted, and for others it's that they haven't addressed whether Buffy's death called yet another Slayer. For me, it's Mutant Enemy's decision not to bring Hank back for his ex-wife's death which left his two daughters motherless, but instead for a stupid fake-memory flashback of catatonia Buffy. What possible explanation is there for a dad this bad? Hey, I know! Hank's been replaced by a demon! The insidious Hank demon that's compelled to roam the Earth, killing and impersonating only men named Hank. What? It's as plausible as "he's in Spain with his secretary." The caller on the phone turns out to be Anya, who has found a "thing" for tonight. Dawn is interested, but Willow brushes her off, saying it's just for a Scooby meeting that Dawn's obviously not invited to. Instead, Spike will be staying with her. Willow instructs the 'Bot not to answer the phone because if she slips up with Hank, she could give away the fact that Buffy is dead. Dawn explains that that would be bad, because then Hank would take her away. The 'Bot wants Dawn to stay. "You're my sister," she chirps, and wraps Dawn in a big, spazzy hug. Sad music plays, so we know to be sad here, because apparently we're all emotional morons and couldn't figure that out for ourselves. Willow and Xander prepare to fix up the 'Bot, and Willow intones, "Buffybot is about to face her most dangerous challenge ever."
Cut to the front of a school, where a large banner hangs. "Welcome to Parent-Teacher Day." Ooooooh! Big exciting challenge. Not. There's a strange disconnect here. The humor of a robot trying to impersonate someone at Parent-Teacher Day is totally muted by the fact that the robot is impersonating the DEAD heroine of the show. Who's still dead. Not just regrettably detained elsewhere, but deady dead dead. It doesn't put me in a wacky-hijinks mood and leaves me wondering when we're going to get on with the substance of the show. Dawn and the 'Bot wander past some tables, and then the 'Bot stops at one. Dawn explains that the model was done by her class and represents a City of the Future. Dawn made the hover-cars out of orange juice cans. The 'Bot is confused, though, and asks which small breed of humans is going to live in the model city. Dawn fake-laughs and tries to pretend her sister just has a strange sense of humor. Dawn's teacher looks confused. Later, Dawn and the 'Bot sit in a classroom with other parents and children as a teacher gives a little speech about the school. I did a parent-teacher night once when I was doing my student teaching. Imagine my pleasant surprise when one of the students later told me his dad had really liked me. I blushed and thanked him and then the student continued, "Yeah. He said you had a nice rack." Reason number four hundred and thirty-seven I'm not teaching anymore. The attractive teacher (not saying anything about her rack though) stresses the importance of parental involvement, and the 'Bot's hand shoots up. "School is where you learn," parrots the 'Bot. Dawn freezes in horror, but the teacher interprets this kindly, saying that the 'Bot is exactly right; school is for learning, not socializing. The 'Bot then natters on about making Dawn's lunch, and again we're to think she's screwed up, but the other parents think she's complaining about the quality of the food in the cafeteria. They all chime in, and the 'Bot is oh so happy. Cheerful, uncomplicated 'Bot.