...and Paris and Rory are interrupted by Logan. He says that he's been working on the story about textbook prices that Rory assigned him a few weeks ago, and, checking the server, noticed that a piece on the same topic had already been written. Rory nods. She wrote it, herself, she says, because it's an important topic, and she didn't feel like Logan would meet the deadline, based on his past performance. "Past performance," he says, "is no indication of future performance." I want to feel sorry for him, but he's wearing that intentionally-ratty jacket of his, and y'all know I hate that. "Wise men," Rory answers, "call that a sucker's maxim." Good one, Rory, but both of y'all suck so bad. Logan finally has his shit together on this one story, and thus is hurt and embarrassed that she circumvented his success, and she's overly bitchy to him because she's mad about the bridesmaids. Whatever, people. Rory, your hair looks awesome, but that's your only advantage in this fight. If you're mad at him about something you've already said was done with, then it's on you to suck it up and get on with your life, or admit straight out that you're not as okay as you said you were. Logan leaves in a huff.
People, pardon the distraction, but the One Tree Hill commercials reminded me. Have you seen this stuff about the "actor" Chad Michael Murray and his rotating roster of underage castmate wives? What kind of crazy mojo is that kid putting on his penis? Because, have you seen him? And his painful hair that, frankly, makes Logan's look downright Republican? And his ridiculous, twenty-four-year-old, tailored five o'clock shadow? Dude's got a touch of the country face, if you know what I mean. For some reason, I find that story impossibly funny. And, what's worse, you know there is probably a member of the WB staff who is totally assigned to deal with his whole menagerie and has to keep his first wife away from this new one.
Back from commercials, Luke is passing out food orders at a roadside burger joint. He slides into a seat next to April, who is busy gossiping with her friends, and immediately interrupts them, saying that he knows the buzzers at their competition were rigged, and that he's lodging a protest. April has to take him aside for a private chat. She reveals, finally, that she likes Freddy. "Oh, well, I like him, too," Luke says. "He seems less insane than the others." April shakes her head. "I don't mean I like him the way you like him," she says. "I hope." She's totally cute about it, especially when it takes several more seconds for Luke to finally get it. "You sitting next to me all the time," she says, "is kind of getting in the way." She keeps having to remind Luke not to look at Freddy while he struggles to understand how it is that April likes Freddy when she never speaks to him. "That's the way it works!" she insists. "But you're always palling around with Kevin," he says. April sighs at his stupidity. "Kevin," she says, "makes me sick. You're overthinking this." And, yeah, for once, he is, whereas in his own relationship, he underthinks. April finally convinces Luke not to hang around her constantly, and goes back to her friends, leaving him to sigh and think, no doubt, that he has a lot to learn about this parenting thing. Too bad there isn't someone he could ask about what it's like to raise a twelve-year-old.