Luke, still slurping coffee and studying flash cards, passes Adam on the stairs and decides to intervene. Oh, God, this should be weird. He asks, "Do you know who I am?" Adam studies him like it's a trick question and replies with uncertainty, "Luke Girardi?" Luke is aware that Adam knows his name, and asks, "Do you know what we have in common?" Adam: "Um...we're in AP Chem together and...we're both guys." Luke: "Yes, yes! We're both males. We're not females." Adam looks around like he might be on Candid Camera or something. Luke continues, "And as such, we find females difficult." Adam: "O...kay." Luke: "One girl in particular." Adam's not following. Luke says he's Joan's brother. Adam knows. Luke: "I would like to speak to you on her behalf." Adam's listening but not following at all. Luke: "Okay, you're not gonna help me through this at all, are you?" Adam: "Through what?" Luke: "Maybe it's none of my business, but I know what I know, and I can't un-know it, so I'm trying to help." Adam's tired of this and walks away, saying, "She smashed my art, man." Luke follows him, saying she's really sorry about that, but that he has to get past it. Adam would like to know why. Luke: "Because one smashed sculpture looks pretty small given other upcoming issues you guys have to face together." Adam: "What happened, happened, okay? There's no taking it back. She has to deal with the fallout. I'm out of her life, man." He wanders off, leaving Luke looking like he's not especially impressed with his sister's taste in boys. Speaking of which: I know Adam is the more likely suspect for father, but how does he know it's not what's-his-face, KleptoBoy...Clay? It easily could be.
Joan and her mom are at the DMV or MVA or whatever it's called in Maryland, and Helen's quizzing her before her test. Joan's sitting there with that bored, glazed look she does so well. She doesn't answer her mother, and eventually complains that she doesn't even want to get her driver's licence. I don't blame her. I'm almost 39 and I've never gotten mine. Helen wants to know why they're there. Joan: "Exactly." Some guy calls Joan's name. Do you think she'd get God as her driving examiner? That'd be rough. Helen points Joan out (with a "yoo-hoo," which cracks me up), and Joan schleps off to take her test. Helen: "Knock 'em dead, honey." Nice. Joan waves her keys apathetically at her mother.
Cheddarmobile. A phone rings, and Cheddar Bob looks nervous. Will: "Relax. It's called a cell phone. How long were you in for, anyway?" For some reason, Will's cell phone is perched up on the dashboard. Cheddar Bob picks it up and demands, "Who's Helen?" Will tells him. Cheddar Bob: "Well, let's say 'howdy' to Helen, huh?" Will asks why. Cheddar Bob thinks she might know if they're out looking for Will: "What's our phrase of the day?" Will: "Good judgment." Cheddar Bob holds the phone up for Will, who says, "Hi, honey!" as naturally as possible. Helen tells him Joan's taking her driving test, in case he wants to alert the force. He thanks her for the warning. She says, "I need to talk to you about something." He tells her now's not such a great time. She agrees; she wants to see his face, anyway. Will: "I need to see your face, too." Helen: "Was that a little bit romantic?" Will: "Best I can do in my current situation." Cheddar Bob's watching him carefully. Will says, "Listen, I had a little argument with Kevin this morning..." Cheddar Bob loses it and tosses the phone out the window. Frink and I agree that that was pretty stupid, since he might want a phone himself for any number of reasons. He could have just hung up. This fellow certainly exhibits the poor impulse control and lack of foresight typical of the criminal element. Helen: "Will? Will?" Cheddar Bob chortles sharply and asks, "Can you hear me now?" Frink and I laugh, but I wonder how many Verizon commercials this guy could have seen in the joint. Interesting that it was more important to Will to make sure he said something about the argument with Kevin than to tell Helen he loved her. Also, I'm wondering if Frink and I should work out some sort of "something's seriously wrong" or "I've been abducted" code. I don't mention this to Frink, though, because my paranoia doesn't always align with his "be wildly overprepared" ethic, and I think this might be one of those times when it doesn't.