The camera drifts along the blankets on the Girardis' bed and over to the ones Joan and Adam are making out under. I think this is the first time we've actually seen them horizontal, isn't it? I mean, while they're making out. Anyway, Adam kisses her neck, and his left hand is holding her around her rib cage. Somehow from this, Joan deduces his next move -- I mean, they've been going out for a year, and has he ever even touched her boob? -- and says, "Adam…Adam, no." This is because -- as you well know -- there are only two sexual activities: kissing, and vaginal intercourse. Kissing leads directly to vaginal intercourse…and out-of-wedlock pregnancy, scary disfiguring diseases, and insanity. Anything else you may think you know about sexual activity is just a figment of your sick, depraved imagination, and probably the result of spending too much unsupervised time on the internet. Honestly. Why is TV so Victorian about this stuff? ["Michael Powell." -- Sars] Adam whispers, "It's okay," and kisses her on the mouth. She pulls away and sits up: "I just…I just don't know." He says softly, "Hey, come on." He kisses her neck some more. Joan: "I didn't expect this now." You lied to your parents so you could stay overnight in a camper with your boyfriend of one year -- with whom the subject has come up before, very early on, at your behest -- and you…"didn't expect this now"? Even after everyone around you tried to pound into your head why your parents might be opposed, and even after your parents made the nature of their opposition perfectly clear? It's just never crossed your mind that Adam might be thinking along a different track? Okay. Whatever you say, Gidget. Adam: "Sort of the perfect opportunity, isn't it?" He smiles. Joan: "I don't know. May -- maybe. I mean, you really want to?" That comment may surpass even her laundry episode in dumbosity. Didn't I already live through this on 90210? David: "You don't? I mean, you seemed like you did." Donna says nothing; she just looks like a scared rabbit. David says he brought protection. Donna clears her throat: "Well, we've talked about this, David. I -- we weren't ready." He points out that was, like, a year ago: "I mean, we've been going out for a long time now…it's sort of the next step, don't you think? I mean, I love you, Donna." She says she loves him, too. They kiss, and lie back down.
David slides his hand gracefully down Donna's torso and when he gets close to You Know What, she sits up again: "We're in a truck." She's breathing hard. "I don't want my first time to be in a truck." No, it's gonna have to be a big antique four-poster bed strewn with pink and red rose petals, attended by little white lambies frolicking around the room and cherubs playing Pachelbel's Canon on violins. Better forget about being an artist and become a lawyer or an orthodontist, because among things, the girl's class issues aren't going away. ["And not to be crass, but at her age, it was a two-door Accord or go without. I would have given an eyetooth for a nice roomy camper." -- Sars] David, still lying down, and growing a little impatient, looks around and says, "It's a camper." Donna: "I'm sorry." David: "Fine." He adjusts his head on the pillow a little crossly. Donna chews her thumb and looks at him: "You're mad." Frink: "'No, I'm hap-hap-happy.'" He says if she doesn't want to, they won't. Donna: "It's not that I don't want to. It's that this is a really big deal and I want you to understand that." He says he does: "It's okay. We should probably go to sleep now." She slowly lies down next to him and says she's sorry, and kisses him on the cheek: "I love you." He doesn't say anything; his eyes stay closed. Then he turns over so his back is to her. Donna lies there wondering if he's going to dump her now as the camera fades out through the top of the camper. The music for this scene is a song by David Loring called "Too High." Maybe Joan should buy some of these.