Previously on Ed, Dr. Jerome berated Mike since time began for being a boob, a three-legged otter, and plenty of more disparaging insults. Warren has been following Diane's well thought-out plans for Martel domination. Apparently nothing else has happened in Stuckeyville. That's it. When you hear that Stuckeyville's a boring little burg, BELIEVE IT, people.
We kick off in the bowling alley, where Ed is behind the counter at the snack bar telling Mike that, when he was younger, he would fantasize about someday becoming a bartender. Which is kind of ironic, because when I was younger I wanted to own a bowling alley, and I married a bartender. Paging Alanis Morrissette! Mike points out that when he was younger, he would fantasize about Loni Anderson, which demonstrates the difference between the two friends with bone-chilling clarity. A guy starts walking toward the two dimwits as Mike blurts, "Ten dollars if you can get this guy to say the words 'Tater Tots' in thirty seconds, but you can't say the words yourself." Ed's up for the challenge, and asks the guy what they call those little fried potatoes. The guy says, "French fries?" Ed says no, that he means tiny fried potato nuggets. The guy says he has to use the can, and doesn't have time to help Ed. Ed gets desperate and is practically verbally assaulting the guy. "String beans," the guy says, all confused. "No!" Ed yells. "They're crispy on the outside and tender on the inside!" "Tater tots!" the guy says, entering the bathroom. Ed beams as he slams his hands down on the counter. Mike informs Ed that it took thirty-two seconds. Ed suffers the agony of defeat as Mike chuckles.
Clem Snide welcome us to Stuckeyville with their theme song "I Am You And You Are Me." This week, the song reminds me of the sound an elderly woman would make while having her eyelids shaved off with a straight razor. And by the way, maybe I'm not the hep cat that I once was, but what kind of name is Clem Snide for a band? Am I the only one who pictures a 110-lb. hillbilly in torn overalls, chewing on some straw, plucking on a banjo with three strings when he hears the name Clem Snide?
Commercials. I see Jason Alexander is still hawking KFC. If I were him, I would be furious with Jerry Seinfeld. When Jerry decided to pull the plug on his show, he probably knew in the back of his mind that the only steady gig George Costanza could ever get would be badgering people about their choice of greasy fast foods and shoving fried chicken in their faces. There must have really been a behind-the-scenes war between those two. I'm sure the E! Network will fill us in about it at a later date.