Speak of the movie star. He walks into the kitchen, clearly having begun this conversation in another part of the house, where there are not people, to tell "E" that he's decided they're "going with the Benz." Eric doesn't believe him, because Vince doesn't make decisions, just forces him into impossible situations where he has to make the decision and get burned by it. But no, this time Vince means it, because he had a dream about it. No wonder other people control your life. Because see, number one, you are making a huge purchase based on a dream you had, and number two? You dream about shopping for cars. The same cars you are shopping for in your actual, semi-waking life. You are an idiot and a creep. And to prove that I am right, Kevin Dillon also dreamed about it last night. Great. "We're cruising down Rodeo, suddenly two jerk-offs pull up and say, 'Hey Chase brothers! Fuck your mother!' and then opened fire." So they share a mother? And they have two different fathers. I get that, because in TV World that just means you're poor trash, and we already knew that. So but how was it that they thought they were cousins until high school? I can wank a million different scenarios here, but none of them makes sense unless everybody got remarried immediately, and that still doesn't make sense, because that would mean one of the dads would have to marry the mom's sister in order for the grandparents to work out correctly. Kids don't get that stuff because they don't care, so screw it. Basically, it seems, this Time Out was necessary for me to realize that Kevin Dillon is, in fact, both my mother and my sister. ["Oh my God, he's mine too!" -- Sars] Eric jerks me back to reality by pointing out that this was a fantastical dream of the highest order, since someone actually recognized Kevin Dillon. I would hasten to point out that the next thing these guys did upon recognizing Kevin Dillon, however, was to open fire on him, which serves to make it more realistic.
Kevin starts shoveling something, some kind of food the preparation of which involves running around the kitchen island and doing jumping jacks and building small mountains out of mashed potatoes and making spirit fingers and jazz hands and "pretty feet," onto Vince's plate, and telling him how much he'll like it. Eric makes coffee for the third time in this scene while doing Pilates on the kitchen island. Vince bitches because he senses that Kevin Dillon has prepared the mysterious food with soy milk, to which Kevin Dillon responds in a very funny, no-nonsense fashion, "You're lactose intolerant, Vince. Don't fight it." Maybe it's Kevin Dillon's deadpan presentation, the "pretty feet" of it all, but I laugh, completely ignoring the fact that the elephant doing reverse crunches in the banana hammock is saying, "Lactose intolerance is the dead IBS horse of five years ago! It's not funny anymore! It wasn't really ever that funny!" Turtle oozes into this whirling, gyrating breakfast spectacle with, like, two stone of laundry and dry cleaning -- which I guess the big lion out front must have grabbed for him, since he utterly was not carrying it in that pointless opening scene -- yelling to Vince how "they got the stains out of your X," where "X" is equal to "any random blingish fashion line that proves they have a grip of cash on hand but everyone has heard of," and in this case is equal to "black Dolces." And he brandishes some dry-cleaned shirts, so I guess we're talking about either several stained shirts or a pair of pants I cannot discern because they're moving too fast because we're in the kitchen. "And I only got you nine iPods because they ran out." They ran out? Of iPods? Were you trying to buy them last year? Were you trying to buy them at the dry cleaner's? Eric, eyes on the prize, stops juggling swords and goldfish bowls long enough to ask if Turtle picked up "the trades," which he did, and which, he warns us, are not pretty. He tells everyone straight up that some "fucking prick" called Vince a thespian. I throw up my hands in despair. Then I just throw up.