Time for some comic relief, and Friedman...needs to be dope-slapped (tm DrForkius). He sidles up to Joan at her locker. Oh, God. This should be painful. He asks, "You coming to watch the TriMathlon?" She titters weakly and replies, "Yeah, right." He's got one arm straight up the wall of lockers as he "seductively" brags, "I intend to walk away with the gold in trigonometry." No doubt there are girls who might swoon over this, but what on God's green earth makes him think Joan is one of them? Joan: "Good for you." Friedman, undeterred: "Trig is..." He looks around. "Triple-X extreme...math." Frink and I are just cringing and snorting. Joan: "I guess that makes you...Tony Hawk then." He says, "If you give me your digits I'll reduce them to an imaginary number." I really and truly am not making this up. Frink finds it all very comical. Joan: "You're Luke's friend; you know my number." He drops his hand over her locker door and says, "That's not the same as you giving it to me." Luke comes along just in time to see this: "What are you doing? Are you hitting on my sister?" Friedman: "It's just a conversation between a man and a woman." Luke sputters, "More like a woman and a boy with aspirations to manhood! Aspirations which sprung from a very private and extremely sensitive conversation!" He asks Joan, "Is he hitting on you?" Joan doesn't quite know what to say, and Friedman starts backing away, making that phone receiver gesture with his thumb and pinky, and mouthing the words, "Call me." I hate that gesture, and no, I don't have a good logical reason why. I just do. Joan just gives him a dubious look and then asks Luke why he's talking so fast. He trips over his words as he tells her she has to drive him home: "Mom left the keys in the office. Congratulations on getting your license although it really does confirm my skepticism about the testing criteria." He babbles on about trying to hold off peeing for the two hour TriMathlon thing while Joan gently takes away his coffee cup. She tells him: "Luke. Stop. Drinking. Coffee." Luke: "Why? My mind has never been so clear!" He grabs the cup and zooms off.
Will pulls the Cheddarmobile into some kind of industrial area, construction site, what-have-you. Will says, "You're not a killer. If you were, you would have shot me when I pulled you over." Cheddar Bob puts the gun up to Will's head and says, "Ding ding, this is my stop."
Out in the garage, Kevin is sanding the framework of the boat hull. I'm sure there's a technical term for these pieces, but I can't think of it. If it were a house, they'd be joists. Frink: "Wow, Arcadia's got everything, even dinosaur ribs." Maybe they're called ribs, actually. While I'm musing about this, Frink is going on about how the thing looks like the plates of ribs on The Flintstones. Anyway. Bet you didn't think you'd ever see or hear of this boat again, did you? Helen comes out and stands there a bit before saying, "The last time I felt like this was the night of your accident." Kevin: "Yeah, but...you knew I'd be okay...and that I'd live." Helen admits that's true. Kevin says he knew he'd make it, too. Kevin says, "I remember the car flipping, and it was noisy...it was really noisy...and then, I must have been unconscious, because the next thing I remember was quiet...except for the radio, which got stuck on a classical station, which was weird, because it wasn't what we'd been listening to." Good thing it didn't get stuck on Black Sabbath's "Trashed." Kevin: "It was like a -- a dream, this -- this beautiful music in the dark...and I didn't feel any pain." He pauses. "I was glad then, but now I know pain would have been good. And then when I woke up in the hospital, I saw Dad's...face...and I wondered, 'Why does Mom think this man is so good-looking?'" Hee! Jason Ritter is really good at mixing humour and pathos. Helen smiles. Kevin: "Why do I keep making jokes?" Helen says, "You had a fight this morning." Kevin nods. Helen: "Times like this, we all have something that we wish we'd said, or something we wish we hadn't said. The night of your accident, you and your father argued. Do you remember?" He doesn't. I think the moral of the story is: Kevin and Will should not argue. Badness ensues. She says, "At the hospital, your father asked me, 'Kevin knows that I love him, right? That I'll always love him?'" Kevin asks, "Did you tell him 'yes'?" His mother says, "Of course. And that's what I'm telling you. He knows." Kevin nods. His eyes are watery. God, it's really hard not to think about John Ritter and feel sorry for Jason Ritter here.