Landry's mom guides a loopy Landry out to the car after his wisdom teeth extraction. Loopy Landry is the best. He doesn't know why it's so bright outside, and is so glad that his mom is always saving his life, and that she picked him up in the mini-van, because he loves the mini-van, it's a sign of comfort. His mom, all the while, is just murmuring and humoring him. Cut over to Tyra, in school, answering her phone. It's Loopy Landry. Oh, dear. Landry's in the front seat of the beloved mini-van, his sweatpants-ed legs sort of curled up near his chest, and he's feeling pretty fine. Tyra asks how it went, and Landry tell her it was great, "They were playing Lionel Richie. 'Lady.' I love that song." Good thing it wasn't "All Night Long" by Lionel Richie, one of those songs that can kill a party dead because when it comes on, everyone is all "Yeah! I love this song (ironically)!" but then it goes on for twenty minutes, and by the end no one is jammin' in the streets, but rather examining exactly how they got to this sad place, a little more drunk than they want to be, having declared their love for this song that they now realize is actually an aural scourge, and then there's a mass movement for the door, party over. The party is NOT over for Landry, though, as he continues looping to Tyra that he's thinking "Me, you, Repo Man, a bunch of Cherry Garcia, my house." Tyra laughs and tells him that sounds great, and Landry responds by telling her that she's the best girlfriend anyone's ever had. Tyra emits a sharp, no nonsense "Landry." Landry loopily backpedals saying that he knows that she's not his girlfriend but he loves her anyway, and just then his mom reaches over and grabs the phone from him and says goodbye to Tyra for him. Landry asks why, why would she do that? And she just coolly says, "You will thank me later."
Coach's office. Coach barks some orders about working on a spread offense to get ready for next week's game. One of the assistant coaches presumes too much: "We're building around McCoy, then?" Coach tightly tells him that he didn't say that and Mac polishes some apples by sternly telling the other coach that what they'll do is work on a spread offense, and not ask questions about it. Everyone but Mac then files out of the room; Coach, "you need something?" Mac wants to know if they're going with McCoy. Coach exasperatedly tells him that he does not know, and the hair above his head is totally in sync with his mouth for once, because it clearly does not know, either.