D.C.
Blame

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Keckler: D | Grade It Now!
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Who wants to play the Blame Game?

Previously on D.C, a little recap of the work force. Sarah tells Pete that she's a junior field producer, but that twinkle in her eye tells us she's set her sights higher. Or maybe it's just a nervous tick. Mason gets a new job with a Congressman from Michigan, who seems to be as much a goody-too-shoes as Mason himself. Finley tells a Vulcanesque Lewis that she has a double degree in physics and art history, and no clue what she wants to do in life but she's not worried, no siree. Finally, just to keep us apprised of the subtle undercurrents of repressed sexual attraction, Finley plays with Pete's Fruit of the Looms and discusses his approach to livestock and women.

It's morning time and Sarah is glued to the television set in the kitchen watching the news report as she slices fruit languidly. Lewis comes in dressed in a black tank top (although since he's a guy, I guess they're called muscle shirts) and takes off Sarah's black kimono to reveal a black camisole underneath. "How can I learn... if... you... keep... inter... interrupting me?" No joke, that's the way it was captioned. Apparently, Sarah is unable to string sentences together when her boyfriend is chewing on her neck, making his way down, down until he disappears from view. Sarah, still standing, manages to say between moans, "Good morning America!" and squeezes the quartered orange in her hand, making it spurt juices. I'll never look at a piece of citrus fruit the same way again. Meanwhile, Pete, wearing a black sleeveless shirt, arrives in the kitchen, unbeknownst to the coupling couple. He clears his throat and Sarah whips around (not to be gross but that abrupt motion could have been really painful for her) and pulls up her top, "Umm, Lewis just dropped something." "Can I watch 'til he finds it?" Pete asks skankily. Lewis pops up from behind the counter and tries to look natural. Mason walks into the kitchen, wearing a black suit: "Morning, folks!" Pete asks if they can check ESPN. Sarah tells him no because the scores will still be the same on the car radio. So just because she works for a news station she gets to control the television set? "Dammit, Lucy!" Mason scolds the house dog (no, not Finley, he said "Lucy") for taking his bagel off his plate. Finley, wearing a long-sleeved black shirt (everyone's in black, where do they think they are -- New York?), giggles and says, "You know she likes carbohydrates." Finley, then turns maternal or housewifey and asks, "Pete, wouldn't you like me to make you an omelet?" looking pointedly at his can of soda and candy bar. "Thanks, babe, but I'm lunching with Phillip Dryden today. I'll go hungry," Pete responds. "The gun lobbyist?" Lewis asks incredulously. Pete explains that Dryden's firm has 138 other clients and points out that Lucy is eating Finley's omelet. Finley shrieks as she sees Lucy lapping at her eggy bowl, "Bad dog! Lucy, come here. Out!" Would somebody please feed that dog? Selfish wankers. Mason asks Pete, "So that's a yes on guns?" "And a yes on the association of college professors, adoptive parents council, fair deal for farmers and so on," Pete tells everyone. "Well, you'll be up for the Nobel Prize in no time," Lewis comments. "Hmm, Nobel made gun powder, St. Louis," Pete wisecracks. Finley feels the need to add her two cents, "Pete, I think it's faboo." Omelets, faboo? Why doesn't she just throw him on the kitchen floor already and be done with it? "It's a damn landmark!" Pete agrees. Suddenly, everyone is attentive to the news because there was a brutal teen murder that took place the previous night on Rock Creek Parkway. Finley makes a face and comments on how horrible it is. "Horrible, yes, but nothing new. Just the atrocity du jour," Sarah says. "Well, if you ask me, it's all about accountability. I mean, where were the parents?" Finley says. Sarah stares at her, "What a great story angle." Finley looks at her in repulsion as does everyone else in the kitchen, especially Mason the Pure. Sarah looks around at them and says defensively, "Well, I'm sorry but that is the news here." I thought everyone was staring at her because it was a stupid idea for a story angle, not because of her abject insensitivity. But the dark, slimy underbelly of the media is exposed, again.

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