The Senator from THE FUTURE says he warned Bobby that the Republicans were going to screw him over in the primaries, but Bobby didn't want to hear it and the Senator felt real bad about that. "Like you would for a brother." Like Bobby presumably feels for the moded, corroded Jack, whose booty, from the look on his face, just exploded in the face of Courtney's denial.
The present-day Bobby goes to the principal's office. He says the principal's name like nine times, and I don't catch it once thanks to his terrible mumbling. Anyway, Bobby needs to talk to the principal. On a personal matter. Maybe about how he needs a haircut? Bobby needs one, I mean. Not the principal.
Cut to Grace lecturing her students about "intellectual capital." Her students seem attentive. Not one kid is doing the crossword. I must say, Grace is a terrible pain in the ass as a person, but she's an engaging enough public speaker. Probably because of herpropensity to yell. Peter Benedict enters the lecture hall at this point, and Grace loses her train of thought. She closes class by giving the students a very vague assignment about "tracing the intellectual thoughts of the last century," and this would have been on their syllabus, I assume, so I don't get why she's yelling this assignment at them like it just occurred to her off the top of her head. Eventually, of course, the kids trickle out and she is face to face with Peter.
Peter and Grace shuffle around for the bit before beginning to bicker about him storming off on "their date," and Peter points out that he didn't want to date her; he just didn't want to hate her. And now he does. Well, he didn't say that exactly, but you can see it in his eyes. He does tell her, however, that he's been reading over the Boring Moonlight Addresses, about which I could not possibly care less. "You were right, they're inspirational," he says. And he wants her to give the address this year. Every year, someone from the faculty can do it. "Someone more inspiring that I am," he sort of smiles. "Casting a pretty wide net. My Aunt Millie is more inspiring than you," Grace brats. Peter is like, you know what? Fuck you. And he starts to go. "Okay. Just out of morbid curiosity, who was your second choice?" Grace asks. Peter sighs that it was her, or nobody. Grace's face melts a wee bit at that. Women love to hear that from cute men. Unless it follows the question, "Who's going to clean out the garage?" Grace tells him she'll do it, as long as he doesn't have to approve her speech beforehand. "I won't abide censorship of any kind!" she yelps. Peter rolls his eyes. "I'm a Republican, not a Communist. Say whatever you like," he says. That line was so awkwardly phrased, and all to get in the fact that Peter Benedict is a Republican. She clutches her pearls over his tragic, tragic Republicanism. Grace, he's a Republican, not a Nazi. Simmer down. But she agrees to give the address. "Good," Peter says. "And if it had been a date, so what? Would that have been so terrible?" Grace says nothing, so he turns and goes.