Ari! Ari jumps out of nowhere and asks how they liked the seats, because as established, Ari gets tickets for you. Although sometimes he puts poisonous ink on them that kills you slowly and mysteriously and nobody can tell how it happened except for Hetty Wainthrop and Dominic Monaghan. "Two very slow white men! I apologize, but goddamn there was some blood!" Oh my God. Ari really is my soulmate. I fucking knew it. "If you see Rob Schneider, tell him you bought those seats." I don't think I get that joke -- something sleazy Ari did to cheat Rob out of the tickets? -- but I do know that mentioning Rob Schneider is just exactly like mentioning David Faustino, only funnier, because WHY ARE YOU FAMOUS? Really long, uncomfortably long overhead shot of a dessert tray. The guy's holding it up toward the sky as he works his way through the crowd, so young Hollywood doesn't accidentally get hit with any stray carbs. The nerd-chic guy from before is explaining something else to somebody else and you can almost hear him. So is he famous or what? He looks kind of like Rhett the metrosexual producer from Joe Schmo, that same kind of thoughtful-yet-businesslike vibe, like that "Tina Brown's America" thing this show has been giving us each week, pretending that at least half of all producers aren't kind of nasty-looking and so they all look like hip, frisky young ad execs. Anyway, he seems cool. And very explainy. Ari orders three tequilas. I settle for the whole bottle because I'm scared of getting blindsided.
They quaff their tequilas, and Jimmy walks into the scene. Jimmy Kimmel, of course. Whom I adore. I like anybody that can put their shit on display without pissing me off -- Kathy Griffin, Jimmy Kimmel, Sarah Silverman, Margaret Cho -- way more than people who are not above using me for their own personal vomitorium -- Janeane Garofalo, Dennis Miller, Brenda Hampton, Francesca Lia Block, Maggie Estep. What a coincidence that almost everyone I could think of in these two categories is or has been a stand-up comedian. Well, Brenda's more of a performance artist in the Annie Sprinkle vein. Jimmy bounces from foot to foot, bouncing bouncing, and invites Vince onto his show, which I guess still exists, or did when this was filmed, and then clarifies that he would like for that to happen tomorrow. He's very low-key, which is nice because I thought it would be like when sports guys go on sketch comedy shows and it makes you a little sick. Unless it's Andy Roddick, because that is A-OK. Ari and Eric agree that, since Head On comes out Friday -- does that mean another round of premieres and reviews? Or did last week happen, like, yesterday? Because Ari said there were two hundred reviews coming in and...I'm not going to let the unending pre-press of this movie kill my buzz, so the Lorelei-is-pretty of it all is that it's nice that Ari and Eric agree, and Vince doesn't freak out or anything, and he submits to their wills. I just wish his publicist were around to be a part of this process, since that's her job. His what, you say? His publicist. The person who rationally would be setting up this appearance. But he doesn't have one of those, you say? Silly reader. Until last week, he didn't have a business manager either. Or a Jessica Alba. And Ari didn't have an assistant, and Drama didn't have a point, and the only famous person any of them knew was Ali Larter, who was deeply and violently troubled. So if they keep adding cast members at this rate, eventually there will be one that is awesome, and it's really in our best interest, as a group, to shut up about them creating characters from whole cloth. Plus, it's only the third episode, and if you're talking in terms of watchability, it's really kind of the first one, almost a second premiere, of sorts. Like that thing where you back to being a virgin through willpower and signing a card. Let's all agree to do that for this episode. Kimmel leaves with a clunky-yet-subtle request that Vince say hello to Drama, and there's a weirdness. I hope you give a damn, because I didn't, and I paid for it.