Grosse Pointe
Opposite Of Sex

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Erin: A+ | Grade It Now!
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Jason who?

Meanwhile, in Sob Central, a.k.a. Schmarce's trailer, Dave's trying to comfort the now-dead actress. Dave assures her that she'll be okay and that she's more popular than she's ever been. "It's not that," weeps Schmarce. "This place has been my home for the last three years. You guys have been my family." "We're not goin' anywhere," says Dave. "I know," says Schmarce. "But I am." And then she dissolves into a waterfall of tears as Dave hugs her. Hunter enters at that moment and surveys the scene. "Any port in a storm, huh, Dave? S'alright. I'll take it from here, thanks," she says, picking Dave up from the sofa and shoving him aside. Hunter sits next to Schmarce and says, "Ohhh, sweetie, I'm so sorry. Show business sucks." No, Hunter. You suck more than show business does. In more ways than one. As Schmarce wonders what she's going to do, Hunter flicks open the blinds and notices that you can see the Hollywood sign from Schmarce's window. "All I can see from my trailer is the parking lot," observes Hunter. As Schmarce proclaims that she loves the Hollywood sign, Hunter checks out the water pressure. As Schmarce states that she should be lucky to have gotten this opportunity, Hunter measures the distance from the kitchen to the door.

Dave sees this and says, "Johnny's already got dibs on the trailer, Hunter." "Huh. What're you implying?" says Hunter, mentally picturing her trashy lingerie in Schmarce's closet. "I am here to lend support to a friend in a time of need. Call me later, Marce." Hunter exits as Schmarce explodes in sobs.

Out on the lot, Hunter spots Johnny exiting his trailer. "Johnny!" she shouts. "I want. That. Trailer." "Too bad," says Clueless, not so clueless anymore. "I got it first." Hunter swallows her venom and says, "I'll sign off on your dumb pinball game." Non-Clueless doesn't miss a beat: "And I want my Hummer back." "Only if your brother makes the ball come out of Courtney's ass," she counters. "Done," says Johnny, shaking to seal the deal.

Joan the Scary Network Executive bursts into Rob's office. "Did you see the numbers from last night? The 'Kim Dying' episode was the highest rated show ever. And I mean, EVER," she crows. "Hot dog!" says Rob, prompting me to wonder if he reads Archie comics in his spare time. "Did we beat Sabrina? "No," says Joan, putting a crimp in Rob's nuclear-war-shelter ideology. "But listen. Marcy's TVQ is up and over the moon right now, so we're thinking...maybe you should write her back in the show." Rob looks at Joan as if she's got horns and a tail and a pitchfork. "She's dead, Joan," Rob says, stating the bleeding obvious. "Don't you remember the flat-line at the hospital? The funeral? The pallbearers throwing shovels full of dirt on her grave?" "Oh, well, you'll figure something out," says Joan, in search of the nearest ass to grind into the ground. "That's why you get top dollar!" She exits, leaving Rob to ponder that whole suicide-scenario again. Luckily for Rob, he's working for the WB, where long-lost twins are a staple.

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Grosse Pointe

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