Eric starts whining about how Ari might be right and maybe Vince should get a real manager, and he's caved so many times in this one day that I think maybe he's right after all, but Vince tells this story about how in third grade he was trying out for basketball -- ah, third grade intramurals, how I remember you fondly even though no school district has ever had such a program -- and Eric said, "Hey, douchebag, you're too pretty for basketball, you know, go try the school play." Third grade this happened. Maybe in Queens that's different than what I think it is. Have I been wrong all these years thinking Queens is in America? Is it maybe in England? Because they've got a weird grade system over there, I think. In Canada they call subs "supply teachers," and thus ends my knowledge of other countries' educational systems. I think Vince's pot belly is cute. Vince points out (to Eric's mouth, so I guess we're back on that again) that they're totally hanging out at Miss Jessica's Fancy House and they might as well enjoy the trappings of his fame as long as possible, because they can always go "tear it up in Queens" like they always have. Wherever that is, exactly. Kevin walks up to notify the rest of the Funky Bunch that Turtle's "out front christening the Rolls," if you know what I mean. I'm picturing Marvin out there with a can of Armor-All screaming, "You fucking kids, you little bastards, Turtle you're going to come in five seconds anyway, just let me protect the investment!" and Turtle yelling, "Jessica Alba's friends all charge by the hour, retard! Hurry up!"
Then Vince decides that Eric should be in charge of returning the car to the Rolls place and getting out of the lease, negating the only change effected in this entire episode from status quo -- and one, I might add, we spent a great deal of time exploring -- and Kevin points out the view to them, again, and talks about...you know what, it's almost fucking verbatim the speech that Vince gave Eric mere moments ago, about how they're totally hanging out at Miss Jessica's Fancy House and they might as well enjoy the trappings of his fame as long as possible, because they can always go "tear it up in Queens" like they always have. Wherever that is, exactly. Vince decides at this point to find Eric a girl, and Kevin says, "What about me?" and they walk away from the camera and then they all argue about how they're never going back to Queens, "tearing it up" or no.
Next day, they're all hanging in the sun on big hideous wicker Adirondacks, basically fully clothed, except for Kevin Dillon. Okay? I think Turtle's braiding another lanyard. No, it's a joint. Vince's cell phone rings, and now it's an enigma, because you're not sure: Is it Ari? Is it Marvin? Is it possible there are...three people with Vince's number? Fooled ya! It's Ari! Vince hands the phone to Eric, who gets to deliver the good news that the New York Times just called Vince "the next Johnny Depp." Vince is like, "Cool. Let's go look at houses." Everybody starts saying how indoor pools are overrated and they should get a house with an outdoor pool, but nobody says anything about how many bathrooms. You have to plan ahead. Gang Starr's "Work," a beloved song from my childhood, starts playing. Next week there's Debi Mazar (who's in the credits for this week but nowhere to be seen, because not even the credits guy cares about this awful mess), Jimmy Kimmel, and Sarah Silverman. This creepy lady with the devil in her soul is like, "The only thing better than being the new Johnny Depp? Is finishing the new Johnny Depp." See how my joke didn't make any sense, really, just the NYT thread from which to dangle, and the punchline was from five years ago? Isn't that funny? Can I have an HBO show now?