I'm going to miss the credits for this show. They're so perky.
Steven bops down the quad, but stops dead in his tracks and gapes in horror at the parking lot. There, he sees a dark red Ford Crown Victoria, and he does what any car-loving male would do -- he runs. Far away.
He ends up diving into Lizzie's room and hiding behind the door. "Steven, you have to knock first!" squeals Lizzie, who is doing a blue facial mask and wearing her bra. Honey, if you're sitting around in your bra, yet you're serious about being modest, LOCK THE DOOR. Steven barely glances at her, focusing instead on peering out into the hallway and begging Lizzie to be quiet and not say his name. Sure enough, Hal -- the proud owner of the Crown Vic -- strolls into the dorm and knocks authoritatively on Steven's door. "Steven? It's the police," he booms, which isn't in the closed captioning, so I'm guessing it was a Loudon addition to the script. Emphasis on "loud." Hal waits, and hears nothing. "Just kidding, it's your father," he calls hopefully. "Remember me?" Still nothing. Steven isn't breathing. Hal shrugs good-naturedly and strolls away.
Steven turns to Lizzie and heaves a sigh of relief, dropping into one of their chairs. He complains about Hal's ubiquity and propensity for popping by unannounced. Lizzie pities Hal and figures he's just lonely. "I know," Steven says. "I just wish he would be lonely by himself sometimes." Ouch.
Lucien and crazy Hillary (Amy Poehler, back again) exit his room, with him gazing fondly at her while Hillary looks apt to slice off her nose with tweezers just to up the entertainment value of this moment in her life. "I can help you with the human pretzel icebreaker," Lucien offers awkwardly. "Could be fun." Hillary's face says, "It could be, if I was dead first." She coolly assures him that her residents can handle it. Interestingly, those Hillary-conceived t-shirts came back from the printer -- the front has a crude drawing of a tall building and says, "We like it on top," and in red lettering down one of the sleeves it says, "Tenth Floor." She's wearing it with pride, like an advertisement. "Well, I'm available. You know that, right?" Lucien pants, imbuing his words with as much double entendre as a fatally awkward person can. Hal strolls down the hall and waves. Lucien recognizes him as Steven's dad, and introduces himself. Hillary appraises him. "Hello, parent," she says. "Me R.A. You R.A. Dad." If anyone had said that to my father, he'd have cocked his eyebrow or squinted in non-comprehension, and later asked me who the pillock in the dumb shirt was, and how she ever got into college. But Hillary laughs, and Hal joins her. Hal then explains that it's been several days since he saw Steven, and he's worried that his son got into some trouble. "Um, okay," says Hillary, all business now. "Lucien, can we borrow your room-slash-office for a second?"
Lucien's Room/Office. Hal and Hillary face each other while he unloads the sob story about the divorce and his job waiting tables, and how he should've gone back to college but it's too late to do that now. Hillary chirps that it's never too late. "There are seventy-five-year-old yogis in India who wrestle tigers for a living!" she exclaims. "Your life is just starting." Hal slobbers that she's so great. "I am," she nods knowingly. "And you know what? Newsflash: So are you!" Ha. Hillary calls Hal "relatively" young and good-looking. Hal blushes and calls her amazing, which warms the cockles of Hillary's heart, which in turn warms the heart of Hal's cockles. She takes his hands and asks him to do one thing for her. "Dare you believe in yourself," she intones very seriously. "And remember -- you're never too old for anything." Nudge, nudge. Hillary's making her point pretty clearly. And Hal is also making a point very clearly -- turned-on, he pitches a tent and invites her crotch-camping. The two start kissing.