Meanwhile, Schmarce is in her trailer, getting ready for her date. She's evidently decided to color some tinfoil with a pink Magic Marker and try to pass it off as a dress. It's shiny. It's pink. It crinkles. What the hell would YOU call it?
Johnny enters, and Schmarce offers him a drink. Johnny declines and instead lounges around on Schmarce's bed. She's far too busy trying to keep her dress from ripping and releasing the precious flavorful steam inside to pay attention to the fact that her preferred love monster is lying prone on her bed. Schmarce asks Johnny's opinion on her dress and, instead of just grunting like he normally does, Johnny does his duty. "Marcy, listen, about that Brady guy...he's bad news. He's actually got, like, a panty collection from all the chicks he's banged and, anyway, he said that you were just another panty in the pile. So stay away from him. Okay. I'm done. You know what? Maybe I will have something to drink. What've you got?" Schmarce stares at him with the same flabbergasted expression she's been wearing since about the middle of his speech. I don't blame her, really. I mean, come on -- he starts off strong, trips in the middle, and returns to his same lame-brained surfer routine by the end. I'd stare at him with my mouth agape too.
"God!" gasps Schmarce. "You're a real jerk sometimes!" Johnny, interrupted in his search for Jolt!, turns to her. "Me?" he shouts. "What'd I do? He's the one who wants to use you like a Kleenex or whatever." Way to steal Dave's material incorrectly, dude. Marcy tells him that she wants to be used. Or, wait, no, she doesn't want to be used. Maybe she's just using HIM. Yeah, that's it. Dickless tells her that using people just isn't Schmarce's bag because she's too nice. This about sends our sweet little Schmarce right over the edge: "Yeah," she says. "That's my problem. I'm just too damn nice all the time. Well, you know what? Not anymore! I'm going to wear dresses made out of reflective material you can bake potatoes in, I'm going to do the nasty without taking off my Manolo Blahniks, I'm going to go two days without shaving my legs and I'm going to...I'm going to...I'm going to MIX MY PROTEIN SERVINGS WITH MY CARBOHYDRATE SERVINGS! And I don't need advice from a bad tan-having, stupid brain-holding, hackey sack-playing, small dick-sporting DIPSHIT! Now go away so I can get ready!"
Okay. Some of that was mine.
Johnny beats hell outta there and meets up with Dave outside the trailer. "Well?" asks Dave. "What can I do?" says Dickless. "She's a self-destructive girl." Dave once again stands alone. Like the cheese. Swiss cheese. Because his mouth is in a big ol' "O" shape and he has a kind of sharp smell.