...All The News That's Fit To Fuck Me, and this is going to make my head hurt. Phoebe -- dancing very close to that Amazing Dipshit territory I find bizarrely amusing but never quite managing to edge herself over that line -- assaults two of her coworkers with strident and scatter-brained demands for information on both Maya Holmes and earthquakes. In fact, she pretty much assumes Elise's editorial prerogative by ordering one of her colleagues to whip up an entire feature article on earthquake preparedness for that evening's edition, despite both the fact that it's got to be at least two o'clock in the afternoon at this point and the fact that he's got a newborn at home, apparently. Bitch. Hag. Stupid bitch-hag. Whatever. I'll be giving that asinine earthquake subplot exactly the amount of attention it deserves from this point forward -- which is to say, of course, none at all -- and get back to the Caged portion of this evening's festivities. The other guy's come up with some dish on Maya from the paper's archives -- dish, I must note, that Stupid Bitch-Hag Phoebe could have come up with on her own had she ever learned to use the search function on her fucking computer -- and the only additional detail we learn is that Maya's boyfriend was found shot in their shared apartment two weeks after she moved in with him. Before babbling her way back into her office, Phoebe rudely natters out a few more orders that her coworkers greet with a pair of raised eyebrows of the "That mouthy, bubblebrained bizznatch did not just tell me what to do, did she?" variety.