Marcy catches up with Courtney in mid-sulk and asks her if she's okay. "Jonah Mumford just reamed me again in front of the entire crew," weeps Courtney. "He basically said I sucked. And maybe he's right." Yes, he's right, Courtney. You suck. You're going to take criticism from a man who hasn't shaved in three years and wears a fucking pinkie ring? Come on! Buck up, little soldier! Marcy says basically the same thing. "You need to march up to Jonah," she says, "and you need to tell him that you will not tolerate being treated that way. And that...that he just needs to back off!" You go, girl! Way to stand on your own two feet! Oh, wait. As Courtney walks away, Marcy falls off steady ground, directly into self-image quicksand. "Oh, but, don't tell him it came from me," she whines. Pussy.
As the girls walk off, Dave comes running up to Kevin as Kev is throwing stuff into the dumpster. "Kev," says Dave, out of breath, "how much did you get when you sold Quentin's old t-shirts to that celebrity resale store?" Who is this "Quentin" of whom you speak, Dave? Kevin tells him that he got fifty-five bucks. Dave's firmly entrenched in awe. "How much do you think I could get for Hunter's old lingerie?" Dave asks. "Washed or unwashed?" says the entrepreneurial Kevin. "Washed 'em myself," says Dave. "Oh, that's too bad," says Kevin. "They pay double if it's straight from the star." No, that's eBay, actually. Trust me. One late night at work, DJ Sumo Todd, my boss, Machew, and I were distracting ourselves from the task at hand by surfing eBay for useless shit. Machew jokingly typed "used panties" into search and, I swear to Christ, there were thousands of items for sale. And these weren't even CELEBRITY panties, for God's sake. To make matters worse (as if they could be), an advertising banner FOR OUR SITE (the one I work for, not MBTV, thank you) was placed directly above the listing of used panties up for auction. Actually, that doesn't make matters worse, it makes them BETTER. Oh-ho-ho! Our site being advertised along with used panties! BWA HA HA! BWAAAAA HA HAAAAA. Ow. My stomach. No, really, MY STOMACH. GET THE BUCKET.