Anyway, the gym teacher, whose name is Coach Keady, is standing next to Friedman, holding a medicine ball. She says, "Upper body strength: it's the key to fitness, and dating." She pushes the ball at Friedman; it knocks him over. Heh. Cheap, but who doesn't love it? "So toss that ball like your life really depends on it, 'cause it does." She wanders around while students prepare to start tossing the medicine ball. Grace asks Joan quietly, "She's homeless?" Friedman struggles to pick up the medicine ball and fails. He's the original ninety-pound weakling. If only Ramsay would come along and kick some sand in his face. Grace picks it up as Joan says that Casper sleeps in a shelter with really creepy people, and hangs out in the park all day because she has nothing else to do: "I have to do something!" Grace tosses the medicine ball to Glynis -- who manages it slightly better than Friedman did, but not much -- as she warns Friedman, "Look at my butt, Friedman, one more time. I dare you!" Friedman: "You wish, Marge." Glynis flings the ball sideways at Friedman, knocking him down yet again with another "Oof!" Yeah, I could watch that all night. Never gonna get old. Coach Keady, dry as a bone: "No lying down, Mr. Friedman. All right, people, let's break up into pairs." I hope they paid Aaron Himelstein extra to appear with those legs in those gym shorts. Glynis and her medicine ball hustle over to Luke: "School will be like a wasteland with you gone for a whole day." They start to kiss, but Keady's right up in their grills with a clearing of the throat. As they toss the ball back and forth, Grace suggests that Joan steal a utility bill so she can enroll in school: "Then she's off the streets...gets free food...can play with the medicine ball." I would add "doesn't have to listen to God Marley" to that list. Joan seems skeptical: "I thought you weren't interested in anyone but yourself." Grace: "This isn't about her. It's political. We're subverting the system, dude."
It's night, and Joan's downtown in Casper's rough neighbourhood. I'll bet her parents wouldn't be too jazzed to know where she is right now. As they walk past some homeless people warming their hands over a fire in a garbage can, Joan's giving Casper a spiel about her plan: "You'll be off the streets. No cops will hassle you. You'll get breakfast and lunch -- it kind of tastes like rubber, but..." They get breakfast and lunch? Paid for? Huh. Casper says, "School sucks." Joan: "Hey! Normally you'd be preaching to the choir. Look around you. Do you want to be hanging out with these people, or kids your own age, kids like you?" Casper, doubtfully: "There are kids like me that go to your school?" Joan: "Casper, look, I know that it's hard for you to trust that someone like me isn't just doing some lame community service thing here, but you have to know that I'm really here for you. I -- look! I stole this gas bill and everything." Casper's expression is negative. Joan: "I'm looking at hard time for this!" Casper sort of smiles and says, "I can't. I have to be here when my dad comes back." Joan: "Casper...do you really even have a dad?" Casper looks slightly hurt, but also as if she understands why Joan would ask, and pulls out an old picture (too old, maybe -- it's got a narrow white border around it, and I kind of thought those were phased out in the 1970s) and shows it to Joan. It's a picture of a man with a little girl on his lap. Joan: "He looks nice." Casper says, eyes on the picture, "This was our apartment. We had a regular life before he got sick. I had to take care of him. There wasn't anyone else to. But he's gonna take care of us again. It's just hard starting over." Joan: "Wouldn't he want you to be in school?" Casper says nothing; she just looks down. Joan hands Casper a duffle bag, saying she brought her some clothes. Now that's the sort of observation and thought that God has been trying to instill in Joan. Casper's been wearing the same thing every time Joan's seen her. Obviously, she doesn't have much, so it was sensitive of Joan to think of that. Joan insists no one will know that Casper lives in a shelter. Casper looks like she wants to believe Joan, who adds, "You'll be just another normal kid." Casper smiles. Joan: "Well, when I say 'normal,' I mean that you'll...you'll look like me. Not that that's exactly normal, but..." Heh. I wonder if she put any of her Dr. Who scarves in that bag. She continues, "It's the best that I can do." Casper takes the utility bill and looks at it, then says, "Let's go jump." Joan looks happy and excited, and they walk off.