Old Puck swipes a couple of handy guitars that have been left most fortuitously unattended, and within seconds, The Two Pucks are serenading the various shady denizens of Paramount Studios with their rendition of this Hanukkah classic, and it is absolutely asinine. Fun, sure, but asinine nevertheless. At one point, the two are mobbed by a crowd of studio executives and extras -- the latter dressed, of course, as showgirls, nuns, angels, aliens and mobsters -- who proceed to dance a riotous Hora around the boys in the middle of the lot's noted New York Street, until The Pucks eventually shimmy their collective way back through the gate and into a tattoo parlor, where the boys get celebratory Stars Of David inked onto their shoulders to commemorate their little cross-country adventure. Ooops. Then again: Moo shu pork on Simchat Torah. I'm thinking the ban on tattoos isn't really high on either Puck's list of priorities.

And when it's over, The Pucks retire to Old Puck's palatial mansion to sun themselves by the pool. Of course, Old Puck doesn't actually live there, as New Puck discovers when the home's real owner returns unexpectedly from a trip to Hawaii to kick both of the boys off her property. "Dude," New Puck dudes, deeply disappointed, "why did you lie to me?" "I didn't think you'd be impressed by my apartment in The Valley filled with Ikea furniture I never figured out how to put together," Old Puck replies, and he's probably got a point, there. Old Puck admits he's a "lonely" "mess" out in California, and bemoans the fact that "it's impossible to meet people 'cause you spend the whole day in your car." New Puck takes pity on his loser of an older half-brother, and invites him back to celebrate what's left of the holiday in Ohio. "If I go back, my mom's gonna make me go to BreadstiX for dinner on Christmas Day," Old Puck warns. "Cool!" New Puck unexpectedly replies. "I'll go, too, and I'll invite my mom!" Awkward!