MegaMark and Warren are at the bowling alley. Warren's bowling while MegaMark has a stack of Scratch 'n' Win cards in front of him, scratching crud off and trying to win a speedboat. This is MegaMark's idea of a physical workout. Warren is lamenting his bad luck with Jessica when an idea that is so spectacular comes to him. "What's the biggest thing in town?" he asks MegaMark. "My ass on a hot day?" MegaMark answers in the quote of the week. Nope. It's the Stuckeyville Pep Rally...or as Warren now refers to it, "Warren Cheswick's Coming-Out Party." He's going to steal the Fozzkat's thunder. He's going to steal the mic and rock the hizzy. He's going to go so over the top that there's a good chance he'll be asked to be the Homecoming King. Or maybe the jocks will hold him down, cover his face with makeup, force him into a dress from Goodwill, and make him the reluctant Homecoming Queen in an event that will scar him for life. Either way, he's going to get noticed, baby!
Jim is walking Molly home when Molly asks Jim why he always looks so happy. Jim says he was born with a happy face and that he's very happy now, meaning that he's entranced by the Hudson Hooters. Molly thanks Jim for not letting her go home early, and he thanks her for wearing a low-cut sweater. They stare at each other outside her house. All of a sudden, rather than kissing her, Jim flips out and says he's gotta go because it's really late. It's uhhhh...bye. I haven't seen a love scene this uncomfortable since that made for television cinematic classic Growing Up Brady when Robert Reed was forced to kiss Florence Henderson in a long and passionate closed-mouth kiss that looked more like Reed was kissing a refrigerator. Maybe Jim's gay. I'll bet you $10 Jim's a Robert Reed. Ten bucks. Any takers?
Ed's bowling in the alley after hours when Molly walks in. Ed asks what she's doing there, and she announces that she came to rob the place. Ed tackles her head-on and pins both her hands behind her back, slipping the cuffs on her. She admits it was a joke. He takes the handcuffs off and apologizes for her bruised kidney. She says her date with Jim went great; she got the goodnight handshake. Ouch. Her lipstick's still intact. Double ouch. Ed says that maybe Jim didn't pick up on her estrogen vibe. She says he knew she was hot and horny for his bones since she was as subtle as Don Knotts. Ed reaches back into his bag of lame excuses why men don't want to kiss Molly Hudson and says that sometimes guys panic. Molly starts to cry. She says she's jumped the gun on this one, too; she's seen this happen way too many times: "I like you...but..." She's had too many handshakes and too many walks home alone. She is resigned to the fact that this is all she gets and deserves. Ed holds her as she sobs. I scratch my inner ear with the tip of my pen and wonder if I've been too hard on Molly lately. Then I quickly remember that Molly is a "television character" and the actress playing Molly was hired for her build because the producers were looking for a woman who was overweight but had a great personality because it's someone on whom they can build a foundation of emotions. And that the actress playing Molly is secretly crying all the way to the bank as she cashes checks for each episode that are at least double what I make a year. And I realize that Molly's not the one that needs to be sobbing here...I'm the one who needs to be soaking Kleenex. Because I get a buttload of hate mail each week telling me to be nicer to a TV character from people who obviously have trouble distinguishing real life from television life. I'm the one who has a backlog of emails from people all across the country who think I'm Satan Smith because I pick on a television character. Where is the justice?