Back in the A.V. room, the geeks are exchanging A.V.-related war stories about having to show -- as Bill so elegantly puts it -- "girls' time of the month" films. A.V. Advisor Guy interrupts to break the news about Mr. Rosso forcing Daniel to join the club. Neal says, "Wait a minute. He's putting him in A.V. as punishment?" I know I shouldn't laugh this hard, but I can't help it. It reminds me of when I edited the clubs section of my high school's yearbook and I had to get someone from each club to hand in a little write-up describing the club's activities. When the A.V. Club still hadn't handed in anything by our deadline, my friend Sue and I wrote one for them, except we had no idea what they did, so the write-up sounded like it was done by a dim-witted third-grader and was full of ultra-lame lines, like, "We help teachers by filming stuff for them." Then, because we were so mature, we made up a name for the author of the write-up, and I'm ashamed to admit, the last name was something like "Giek" -- because, obviously, as yearbook staff we were in no way geeky ourselves. Nope, not at all. Anyway, Daniel walks in, looking about sixty-eight years old. He couldn't be less thrilled to be there, and not even Gordon's offer to teach the finer points of film projector repair can cheer him up.
In the cafeteria, the geeks are expressing their dismay about Daniel's appearance in their A.V. sanctuary. Gordon offers, "I'll bet that Daniel guy is high on drugs, and if we make him mad, he'll freak out and wreck the A.V. room." That's right, because pot smokers are best known for their ultra-violent behaviour, and not for laughing at silly jokes and craving junk food. Sam points out that Daniel is Lindsay's friend and tries to defend him, but the others agree that they should all try to get Daniel out of their club by forcing him to show movies every day. I'm not sure I follow the logic, but okay.
Trace Beaulieu is back as Mr. Lacovara. He congratulates Lindsay on being in the top one per cent of students who get invited to attend an academic summit, adding that he was in the "one per cent club" in 1956. "Look what it did for me," he says. How very reassuring. He turns to leave but knocks down a student's lunch tray instead. While everyone in the cafeteria applauds, Mr. Lacovara says, "That was my fault! That was me. I'm the clumsy clod!" I know the real reason they're all applauding is because Trace Beaulieu's comic timing is so good. I scribble down the phrase "clumsy clod" so I can steal it for my own use.