"Let's start with you, Mike," says Robeelzebub. He gives him blah blah blah about Mike's father's death and how Mike is obsessed with it and how it's keeping him from writing that second book and, okay, is Robeelzebub Dr. Phil or something? Mike is not impressed. Then he turns to Rudy and spouts off all the Rudy-is-a-big-retard stuff from Mike's book, and it's two strikes for Robeelzebub, but then he turns to Ellie. "Poor Ellie...the misunderstood corpse lady that nobody knows anything about because she's too scared to reveal anything that might be considered intimate or vulnerable," and okay, digression here: why the hell are female characters in shows like always considered to be emotionally stunted, freezer-burned wretches just because they don't share their personal lives within their first five minutes onscreen? It's the television equivalent to walking down the street and passing some random guy who says, "Hey! Smile!" and then, if you don't smile, says, "God, what's your problem?" And of course the problem is that the random guy would never tell another guy to smile; and Ellie wouldn't be considered an arctic head case with intimacy problems if she were a guy. So then anyway, Robeelzebub says to Ellie, "Should I tell them about Teddy?" and she tenses up. And it turns out that Teddy was her high-school sweetheart to whom she lost her virginity at sixteen and who she saw die after a car crash, and big fucking deal, but she sits there all teary-eyed and sniveling like she's confessing to being an ax murderer or something, and then she's all "HOW DID YOU KNOW?!" and she wigs out and runs out of the room, but, hey, that's what she gets for not smiling more.
Mike goes to check on Ellie. She's freaked out and says she's never told anyone about the night her boyfriend died. "You watched him die?" said Mike. "I'm fine," says Ellie, "And this isn't the time to play 'open up Ellie.'" Mike insists that he's not prying, and offers to take her home. She says yes. Mike's thinking, "Cool! I'm scoring with her!"
Diner. Mitzi and Hazel, Round Two. "Okay, I've rehearsed this whole thing, and I've got to say it," says Mitzi. Hazel's like, "Whatever." Mitzi says that she knows Hazel's sorry about the affair and that she herself should be moving on. "But I loved my husband," says Mitzi. "And he loved you, too," says Hazel. "I know that," says Mitzi. "See, what I can't quite wrap my head around is that maybe, quite possibly" -- she starts crying -- "he might have loved you, too...and if I accept your apology, that means I'll have to accept that, and I may never be ready to do that...do you understand? Does that make any sense?" Dude, yeah, except this whole scene kicks way too much ass for this show. Go, Mitzi. Mitzi and Hazel come to some kind of agreement. Sam and Zane are sitting nearby, and they've seen the whole thing, and they're like, "Yay! Our moms aren't spitting at each other anymore!"