Joan of Arcadia
State Of Grace

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Grace Under Pressure

Joan's in the school library working at a bank of computers. She's griping quietly about the "stupid internet" when the large blonde girl sitting opposite her asks her what the problem is. Joan complains about the results (264,000+ pages) that were returned for a simple search. The girl opposite is eating something -- I think it's a granola bar. Why? Why do fat people always have to be eating? Why couldn't she just be a fat person using the computer? I find it really disappointing that this show -- which is usually above such weak stereotyping -- succumbed to this. The other girl asks her what she's researching. Joan says, "Zero-tolerance policies in schools." The other girl replies, "Interesting topic. Are you pro or con, Joan?" She continues chomping away as Joan gives her the eye. She says, "I'm annoyed, as long as you're asking. Can I have a bite of that? I had to skip lunch for this, remember?" Granola Bar God looks dismayed about having to share her granola bar -- because of course, fat people are not only pigs, they're greedy pigs -- and reluctantly hands it to Joan, who thanks her and then asks, "How do you expect me to be on a debate team with someone who can't even talk? I mean, I feel bad for him and everything, but...debate is really a speaking thing, you know? And there's [sic] time limits. I mean, he would get, like, two words out before the bell went off. It's humiliating." Granola Bar God asks, "Well, how do you think he feels?" The eagle-eyed librarian notices Joan, whose back is to her, putting some food in her mouth, and tells her, "No eating in here, Ms. Girardi." Granola Bar God makes little effort to hide a satisfied smirk. Joan asks, "So this is about Scott?" Granola Bar God: "Everything is connected, Joan. You should have learned that by now." Frink: "No kidding." Joan sighs and rolls her eyes: "This whole 'inscrutable' thing is getting very old, you know." Granola Bar God whispers that she put Joan in debate because "it's an excellent way for people to find their own voice." Joan: "So it is about Scott!" Granola Bar God stands up and advises, "Try adding more search terms. Narrow it down." She wanders off with a Godwave as Joan asks a little too loudly: "Wait, how can I cure someone's stuttering in two days?" The librarian admonishes her.

Grace is hustling through the hall alone. A few feet behind her, Friedman is telling Luke, "You gotta forget about Grace, dude." Luke: "I get these feelings. I know it's a biological reaction, glandular and...." Friedman says it's not biological, it's psychological: "You're always throwing yourself against the one gate that's locked. And why? Because you're afraid of going through the gate and enjoying the pleasures of the garden...." Shut it, Dr. Kinsey. I'll bet you haven't even been kissed. Try to become the master of your own johnson before you horn in on Luke's sex life. Luke insists he's not afraid of "going through the gate." Friedman asks, "Then why are you always walking past the one gate that's wide open? And don't tell me you don't know who I'm talking about!" Luke, somewhat unhappily: "Glynis?" Friedman: "She's wacky for you, dude." Luke pounds his forehead twice with his fist. Friedman says that when he took Glynis to the dance, she only talked about Luke: "Extremely annoying, but, uh...it's 'cause I was wearing cologne and everything." Yeah, whatever, stinky. Luke opens his locker and says he can't simply transfer his feelings from one person to another. Friedman: "Of course you can! It's built into our DNA. Did you see the look Glynis gave you in Chem today? That's a look you usually have to download." Snerk. I'm sure Friedman would know. Actually, that's a pretty good line. It's just annoying that it has to come from him. Luke slams his locker closed and says, "Okay. I appreciate the rather base concern, but I can take care of my own love life." Friedman nods: "Right...in the shower." He wanders off down the hall as Glynis comes toward them. She smiles and waves ambivalently at Luke, who waves politely back.

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Joan of Arcadia

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