Jack pesters Jill about how good their recent bout of sex was, still dressed like an ambulatory feather duster. "You want me to grade it?" Jill scoffs. "Okay, sure: on a scale of one to ten, with ten being the best, what would you say?" she asks. Jill looks befuddled and Jack says, "Okay, fine. Would you say it was -- the best sex you could ever imagine having?" Jill asks what's going on, and she says something to the effect that she wants to up her averages. "Because you want to do this professionally someday?" Jill asks. Jack alludes to great sex Jill might hypothetically have had before her. "Leave Barto out of this!" Jill says. Or maybe he said, "What's that supposed to mean?" -- I was putting the final touches on the noose at the time. "It means who the hell was Becky and what did she do to make you feel so much more friggin' free than you ever were before?" She executes several 360-degree circuits with her eyes during the utterance of the words "friggin' free." One thing leads to another and she admits that she "skimmed" his journal while looking for a pen. "I snooped," Jack simpers, trotting out the ever-popular baby whisper in recognition of the magnitude of her crime. "I didn't mean to," she says, as Jill drags his scrawny torso out of bed and starts preparing to retreat to the Bachelor Barn. "So this is what you do with my key?" he whines. "I tried not to," she says and he says snidely, "At least you tried." "It was only for a second!" she protests. "You went through my stuff, Jack." "I was out of line," she admits, and they trade more scintillating dialogue until he storms out. "Does this mean I don't make you feel free?" Jack screeches as the door closes behind him.

I'm sorry, but "You've got it together with Kotex" just doesn't have the same mesmeric ring to it as "Girl, get some Tampax and get on with your life."

Irrepressible shutterbug that he is, Jill scans a sheet of prints as Barto prepares to leave. "Library?" Jill asks. "Audrey, then library," says Barto, still hearkening to the "everybody in khakis" mandate laid down in winter of '98. Jill smirks and starts fondling his zoom lens. Jack comes in just as Barto's leaving and they share a charged moment. "He knows," she whispers and Barto expresses relief. "I was gonna tell him," he mumbles. "You know -- the code." Jack wears a flower-embroidered cardigan that looks like the top to a pair of Lanz of Salzburg pajamas. She sets down a hatbox in front of Jill and takes its lid off. Jill looks bemused as she says, "There it is, my entire life. All my deepest, most private thoughts -- notes my girlfriends and I passed in class, love letters from first boyfriends, everything that's ever happened to me." Um, including medical charts from that clinic in Stockholm? "I want you to take it and I want you to go through all of it," she says. More blather is exchanged and Jill starts removing tchotchkes from the stupid box.