John From Cincinnati
His Visit: Day Seven

Episode Report Card
Mr. Sobell: C- | Grade It Now!
Shaun Gone? Yawn.

Later that same day, Dickstein has returned to the café to recount the recent turn of events -- particularly the bit involving the corrupt hospital lawyer -- to Daphne the Castrating Fiancée Who Hectors. Dickstein is appalled by the other lawyer's proposed collusion; Daphne is appalled by Dickstein. While that's happening, Kai has stomped into the café, spewing particularly venomous curses in the general direction of the Yosts. "I'm out of here. I don't take this abuse from anybody," she says. Jerri wants to know what the trouble is; the trouble, Kai says, is Cissy and her ball-busting ways. "Thinks I got to eat her shit on the telephone," Kai seethes. What happened, you see, is that Kai cut her foot while surfing this morning and was off seeing the doctor -- the back-alley, probably-had-his-license-revoked-in-'95 doctor she has to see on the QT because the Yost Surf Shop doesn't offer its employees a health plan. So that's why she wasn't in the shop to get the message that Shaun didn't actually leave. "I try to keep tabs on him, and Butchie, too, and she knows that," Kai continues. "So fuck her, fuck them, I'm gone, I'm out of here." And she is, at least for the rest of this scene. Anyhow, back to the Dickstein-Daphne business, although not really since it's hideously dull. To sum up: Dickstein wants no part of this corrupt bargain; Daphne seems to be more disappointed by this ethical stand than you'd want your fiancée to be.

Elsewhere, Cass is dragging John by the hand into her hotel room. Then she slaps him. Bill already beat you to that cheek, dear. "What have you gotten me into the middle of, John?" Cass demands. "Work here, Cass," John says. That is not the response Cass was hoping for. She waves the black curtain at him: "What is it that you have me working on when we do whatever it is we do so that I don't remember afterward?" she asks, before slapping him again. "I helped you make that video, didn't I, John?" she continues. "With my zeros and my fucking ones. And I helped you scare all of those people." "You helped me," John agrees. Cass doesn't find that terribly comforting -- she orders John to beat it. "My Father had more big and huge for me," John seemingly protests. Cass wonders if John's father is some soft of Arab fanatic; that prompts John to repeat that horrible line from a few episodes ago about eradicating all the towelheads. "My God," Cass moans. "My God. What is going on?"'re only asking yourself that question now? Because I might have posed it shortly after that old geezer I bedded started levitating. Cass demands that John tell her "something big and huge." "My Father tells me, Cass," John says, somewhat apologetically. Cass would like a more specific big-and-huge, please. John does that thing where he looks frustrated because he can't say something. "Does your Father mean well?" Cass asks pointedly. John's inability to answer here is only slightly unnerving.

Tina and Butchie are meeting for drinks, downstairs in the bar -- Butchie hasn't even finished walking into the frame before Tina starts protesting her innocence in The Case Of The Boy Who Went To Seaworld And Didn't Leave Word With Anyone Like He Said He Would. Hey, baby mama, be cool -- Butchie's not upset. Yeah, but what about Cissy -- Tina asks how pissed off she was. "Not too bad," Butchie says to a disbelieving Tina. "Cissy wakes up pissed off." Anyhow, Butchie is more disturbed by John's behavior: "He's a good guy, but he acts like a pea brain -- saying shit's going to happen to Shaun." Tina wants to know if John is capable of hurting Shaun; Butchie mutters some combination of "No" and "I don't know" with a "fuck" or two thrown in. It's a less-than-convincing answer. "Hey, Jack and Coke if you're working," he bellows at the bartender; "She thinks I'm working," Tina sighs. Ever the gallant, Butchie offers, "Maybe she's checking out your moves." Anyhow, both Butchie and Tina agree that Shaunie turned out well and that much of the credit, however grudgingly, should go to Cissy. "Sorry," Butchie says to the bartender when she returns with his drink. He points to himself: "Asshole." He still better not walk out of there without tipping at least 25%, or the next Jack-and-Coke might have be accompanied by a loogie chaser. Tina has two pieces of news for Butchie, the first being that Shaun wants her to stay in Imperial Beach and she wants to stay, too. How's Butchie feel about that? "I don't get a vote on that shit," he says, before adding that it'd be all right with him. And that second thing? "I'm fucking Linc," Tina says. Butchie wonders why she chose to share that information. She stammers something about if she's in town and hanging out with Linc, well, better for Butchie to find out this way. Butchie wonders if Tina's return to I.B. means he now has to "write permission slips for who [she bangs]...I wouldn't have time to eat." Tou. Ché. "Not for nothing, Tina," Butchie says, finishing up his drink, "but you don't fuck Linc; Linc fucks you." And with that Yakov Smirnoff-like bon mot, Butchie is out of here.

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John From Cincinnati




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