Carol sees Drunk-Ass's date go into the Drunk-Ass Ladies' Room, and decides this would be a fine time to corner the sonofabitch and find out if he's got something against her sex skills. She approaches him and breaks the ice by asking if his assistant mentioned her stopping by to see him the other day. He says she did, but that he was swamped with work. He asks her if something's wrong, and she says she's great. She then sort of snaps and asks Drunk-Ass if she was a "prize" for him...some sort of conquest. If Carol Vessey and her perpetually open legs were any sort of prize, I think they'd be the last one in a White Elephant gift exchange -- the one people are choosing sponge sets over. Carol says she can't believe that they slept together and then Drunk-Ass brought a date to this party; she lets him know that this has upset her. She then figures it out and says, "Wait a second...that's your cousin or your sister, isn't it?" Drunk-Ass smiles and says "No...it's my date." He tells Carol that yes, they had a roll in the hay, and yes, she didn't charge him for it when she technically could have. But she can't expect him to take her to the soda shop now and share a malt and stare dreamingly into each other's eyes as they profess their wide-eyed love for each other, because that ain't happenin'. The Drunk-Ass date emerges from the bathroom; she and Carol exchange icy stares before the happy couple leaves to go mingle with all the other recovering alcoholic bastards and their dates. Molly watches the whole thing from afar and feels bad for her friend, the ex-prom queen, who will be spending Christmas alone while Molly's all wrapped up in some beefy bowling-alley supply salesman arms. Yeah, Carol. Sorry for your recent run of bad luck with men dating back to when you were twelve. But Molls is going to be soiling satin sheets with sex juice on Christmas morning, and doesn't have time to help host your little pity party.