Kevin jumps out of nowhere to say "Illegally Blonde, two o'clock," by which he means Ali Larter is coming, because she was in Legally Blonde, which is funny -- contingent on whether you remember she was in that movie, of course -- and also confirms this character as actual Larter and not Larter as somebody else. So now I feel like an insider, and I'm all puffed up with pride and other ill humors that will most likely require cupping. But on this side of the fourth wall, Ali Larter is one scary lady, apparently stalking Vince, and putting the smack down on Turtle immediately, and refusing to let go of finding Vince and doing something scary in front of everybody. She tells Eric to go fuck himself after he refuses to give up Vince's location, and disappears. But she'll be back. Turtle's ADD leads him to exposit that the "six-pack" of girls previously alluded to won some kind of K-ROQ contest and are willing to party, on the condition that they meet Vince first. Which, dude. The existence of radio contests to meet celebrities kind of leads the mind inexorably to this kind of thing, even if you pretend it's like an urban legend or something, but I would think that would be like the lowest of the low, to sleep with the winner of a radio contest. Ugh. This is a person who demonstrated their love for you by repeatedly pressing "redial." Like those "Aiken for Clay" people. Well, if he, you know, went through with it. "Could you get laid without Vince?" Turtle answers Eric's quite apposite question with one more rhetorical in nature: "Do I give a fuck?" Heh.
In the limo, a scene we've never seen before: a bunch of average guys just covered in Miutrix bitches and hos, smoking cigars and drinking, and everyone's laughing. Joe Budden's "Fire" is playing, which is a little more contemporary, since that only debuted like eight months ago. Inside the house where nearly the entire entourage lives, there's a great big swimming pool. And from the ceiling above this swimming pool, there is a rope swing. And hanging from that rope swing is a liability suit. Remember when you very very young, and you drew your perfect house, and it had secret passages and a soda machine and a slide down to the ground from the fifth floor and a tiger preserve and a Batcave with a hidden elevator and a giant indoor pool with a rope swing? Now imagine your best friend is a movie star and you've not progressed emotionally since the day you drew that picture. Yeah. Two limos' worth of Miutrix giggle and splash all over the place and someone -- maybe Eric -- is swinging around on the rope. He climbs it just like a monkey. Vince has a little Miutrix on either side and he's sweet-talking them both, but I don't have a problem with that really. Later, Eric and -- one assumes -- the Derek Jeter fan that looks like Kristen are hanging out on an indoor balcony, watching the Miutrix and Entourage splash and shriek and giggle. Eric tells her that while the rest of them live in the house proper, he lives in the guest house. "Well," she points out not very obliquely, "I'm a guest." She kisses him, holding her giant full margarita glass out to the side, with its perfectly salted rim. Eric -- who ought to put a shirt on, I think -- is hesitant, because she kind of reminds him of somebody and it's freaking him out. Does she remind you of every other faceless woman on this show, Eric? Because that's freaking me out, too. Where's Ali Larter?