Here's a familiar scene: Jill watches morosely as his key is copied in a hardware store, while Mikey, Arch Enemy of Commitment, recites an epic catalogue of risks he's taking in doing so. Jill protests that a key is just a key, but Mikey insists that "it's a symbol," and that "next thing you know she'll be stealing your favorite sweatshirt and taking the messages off your machine, and BAM! She's got one of your drawers." Um, Mikey, if you'd been paying attention you'd know that Jack got into Jill's drawers back in February, so you're a little behind the curve. But carry on, by all means. "Once you give Jack that key," he drones, in a voice dripping with foreboding, "you're giving her an all-access pass to your entire life! And she willuse that pass, bro!" It's anyone's guess why Simon Rex parts his hair somewhere centimeters above his left ear, in a part zone heretofore utilized only by bald men attempting comb-overs. Perhaps there are some truths about Romeo best left unknown. "I'll have a pass, too," Jill says. Mikey asks what he's going to do with it and Jill gets flustered, whining, "Wait, are we talking symbolically, or for real? I'm confused here." Mikey hands him the finished key, uttering the menacing non sequitur, "You feeling me now?" Jill pouts.
Jack walks down the hall in the denim jacket and pants outfit popularized by TV's Chachi Arcola. She pauses outside her apartment to listen to the barking and braying noises emanating from within. She walks in to find Ferret talking loudly to herself. "I'm acting," Ferret explains, and Jack gives a "whatever" shrug, presumably because at no time in that sentence was her name mentioned. She excuses herself to take a shower. Ferret, woefully bereft of mini-braids, sports a lank, bi-level shag that emphasizes the Cubist deformity of her features. She asks why Jack doesn't shower at the gym, and Jack reasserts her role as the show's lovably Howard Hughesian germ freak, squealing, "Like, a jillion people shower there, I don't need some crazy foot fungus." Takes one to know one, sister. Audrey ponders Jack's banal anality, then remembers that Jill brought by a present and hands it to her. Jack's teeth come to the fore as she opens a jewelry box containing Jill's key. She shows the key to Ferret with a smile intended to be winsome, but weighing in instead at loathsome. "God, you're easy," Ferret says as Jack scurries off with the key.
Mikey wraps up some shaggy-dog story he's telling his latest conquest, opening the door of the Shaker Shack to find copious evidence of Elispa's commitment to Bad Housekeeping. His date wears a bib with no coat, though it's ostensibly New York in early March. "I thought you said you lived with a girl," says Ms. Nobody, a departure from Mikey's usual type with her non-Aryan features and mild-mammaried figure. She is, however, sporting cherry-red disco pants, stiletto mules, and a Julianna Margulies-style poodle perm. Mikey insists that his room is spotless and it's Elispa who's the slob. Hotpants asks if that's his way of trying to get her into his bedroom, and he says, "One of 'em." Wait a second, what's so special about his bedroom? I fail to understand the significance of this banter. Maybe he has board games in there. She excuses herself to primp, and Elispa walks in just as Mikey enters a brief tidying frenzy. She asks blithely if he's happened to go to the market, and when he says, "No, I don't think so," she mutters, "Of course not," and turns to leave. Mikey asks if she's planning to do the dishes and she says she'll get them tomorrow. Does anyone sense a "Roommate Forum" coming? Or perhaps a story line poached from the archives of other knee-slapping roommate comedies like Perfect Strangers? I don't. "It's like living with Johnny Depp," Mikey says. Ha? Ha.