So Harry Hamlin, who never even made it as a B-list movie star, will now play one on TV. How meta. Is it just me, or does he look cryogenically preserved?
Jack putters mournfully around Mikey and Elispa's trashed apartment, commiserating with Mikey about how bad it is. They discuss the profile of a "closet slob" -- someone who cleans up just before company comes over, so "no one ever knows the truth about her." Wow, kind of like Romeo! "I guess you don't really know someone until you live with them," Jack concludes, spurring Mikey to ask about Ferret. "Drinks a lot of tea; picks things up with her toes," Jack says. While I ponder that unsavory image, Jack launches into some turbo-anality about making a chore list for division of labor. Lots of references to grout and "dust-busting," all leading up to Jack suddenly blurting, "Can I ask you something about sex?" Which is greeted with an impish Mikey face and the statement, "Are you gonna take notes?" Ha? Nah.
"Well it's like he's a human garbage dithpothal," gripes Elispa. "Ugh -- and the combinations!" "I know, he's got a different take on food," Jill says, fussing with some kind of tripod to reassert his newfound identity as the late-blooming male Annie Leibovitz. "How can anyone enjoy M&M's dipped in hummus?" Elispa babbles. "It's like an insult to the entire Mediterranean culture." Actually, the Mediterranean Board of Public Relations is so pleased with the breakout success of Melina Kanakaredes that they wouldn't care if Mikey ate the shroud of Turin with salsa. But that's neither here nor there. "I'm sure Mikey didn't mean to insult all the Mediterraneans," Jill says, adjusting yet another complicated lighting implement -- because, like all jobless photography dilettantes, he has cash to burn on state-of-the-art equipment. Jill urges her to express her disgruntlement to Mikey, but Elispa insists that crying over spilled food is too petty. "Buy food he won't like," Jill suggests. "Health food stuff, like soy milk, bean curd, wheat grass!" "Then we'll both starve to death," quips Elispa. Jill strikes an "I am a camera" pose and Elispa suddenly appears framed by the lens. "So is Audrey paying you for these headshots?" she asks. Jill admits that they haven't actually talked money yet, and Elispa says, "Isn't it nice that we can be so honest with our friends?" Jill pokes his head up like a Whack-a-Mole and the next thing we see is a series of black and white shots of Elispa mugging heinously.