Joan arrives at debate class, and Scott tells her that he compiled all the data and wrote an opening affirmation. Joan reads it and says: "This is fearsome, Scott. You did all this in one night?" He says that writing is no problem. Joan flips through the extensive binder he's prepared and says, "Apparently not!" Thinking for a moment, she says, "Writing is kind of like your voice, huh?" Scott guesses so. Joan: "The world can hear you this way. You can let people know what you think this way, right?" He asks what she's saying. She says he should be writing for the paper or something. Scott: "You mean, quit debate?" Joan: "No, no, not quitting -- moving on to what's right for you. Wouldn't you love to see your stuff in the paper?" Scott would. She urges him to do it for himself: "This is about you -- not your dad, not Mr. Enfield -- this is about you, your voice." Scott realizes that she's right, saying, "I'm a writer." Joan nods. Scott says, "I quit." Mr. Enfield overhears and says, "I beg your pardon, Mr. Brooks?" Scott repeats, "Quit. I quit." He grabs his bag and thanks Joan and leaves. Joan smiles to herself. "I totally have this down, God."
Joan and Helen are getting groceries. Joan asks if the art-teacher position has been filled yet. Helen says it hasn't, and that Price claims he's going to fill the position by Friday no matter what. Joan: "Adam told Price he should hire you." She adds a little chortle. Helen seems pleasantly surprised: "Really?" Joan: "Yeah, can you imagine? You grading my friends? Ew and ew." Helen: "I used to teach, you know. And I've been exhibited." Joan: "What are you saying, Mom? You can't teach at my school. It's like incest or something. I'm gonna go get the hamburger meat." Helen looks slightly hurt as Joan takes off.
Joan asks the butcher for two and a half pounds of hamburger meat. As he prepares the meat, he asks, "So...you quit debate, huh?" Joan replies, "Shouldn't you be in the produce section? I always thought God would be a vegetarian." Guess not, but at least you can probably trust this guy not to have his thumb on the scale. Butcher God laughs, saying, "You know, I was surprised. You were only in debate for...." Joan: "Three days. Because I'm good. I am so getting this whole mission thing. I'm getting even better at the riddles. 'Finding his voice.'" She says that was a good one, because at first she thought she was supposed to cure Scott's stuttering. She rambles on, directing God to choose lean beef because her mother's on a health kick. Butcher God tells Joan she's not done: "I wanted you to join the debate team to be in the debate." Joan: "Come on, if I argue in favour of that stupid policy, Grace is totally going to write me off!" Butcher God: "So your position has no validity at all?" Joan: "Yeah. Ha! Grace is all political and knows about this stuff. And I know what a drag it is to get searched." Butcher God is incredulous: "So you think believing something to be true makes it true?" Joan thinks about this for a moment and replies, "Well, if believing in things is wrong, that would put you out of business pret-ty fast, wouldn't it?" He says, "I don't exist because people believe in me! I simply exist, whether they believe in me or not." Joan sighs and plops her hand on the counter in exasperation as he continues, "Holding onto beliefs, that's not truth. Open your mind, Joan! Read what Scott gave you. Be a part of that debate tomorrow." She doesn't say anything, but it's obvious that she'll go along.