Jeers. Jake reports back to the boys, but he doesn't have the heart to tell them the truth. "You were right [Medium Pussy], he hardly ever touches her. In fact, I think he might be impotent." MP delights in hearing this, but Jake just turns to leave.
Mike Binder, on why we should be worried about the future: "I'd like to own HBO. World domination has always been a major goal for me."
At work the next day, the boys are all gathered in some glass-walled room, eating their lunches. The sole purpose of the glass-walled room, by the way, is to create a reasonably cool visual for these shots, so as to better distract us from the utter inanity of the dialogue. After mocking Doug's lunch of home-cooked meatloaf as "gay," Mickey complains further that Donna is still whining about having hobbies. "She gave me this whole speech about all the times she's been in Chicago and she's never been out on the lake," he says. Doug, always a master of the obvious, points out that the lake is still there. Seeing the light bulb appearing over Mickey's head, Jake wonders, "Do you ever get tired of us doing all of your thinking?" Judging from the fact that Mike Binder doesn't really seem to be capable of thinking with anything other than his, uh, [insert euphemism here], I guessing the answer to that is no.
In a tidy episodic resolution that surprises no one, we now get a scene of Mickey and Donna on a sailboat he's rented. Of course, he doesn't know how to sail, so they have to keep it moored to the dock. You'd think he could have gone to the trouble to hire a captain or even some kids from the local yacht club, but I guess not.
Mike Binder, on that last snarky comment: "I thought of using Bob Denver, who played Gilligan, but he's not available."
Anyway, back on the boat, Mickey and Donna have moved into the cabin below. He joins her on the bed, and they discuss potential hobbies they could try. He suggests collecting glass rabbits, but Donna doesn't seem enthused. Her idea? Yodeling. "I want to be one of those couples who yodel together," she says. "I did a piece on them once. They have great, great sex. Yodeling gets you very hard." As an informative public service, I'll report here that the highly unscientific experiment I conducted on just this very subject in my own apartment does not seem to be confirming her hypothesis. In fact, it seems to have gotten more of a rise out of the neighbors than, uh, anything else. Mickey doesn't seem to believe her either, and asks for proof. "I'm not going to yodel to get your dick hard," she replies, "I may do plenty of other things [Ack! Bad Stooges flashback!], but I'm not going to yodel." Mickey, always a master of the obnoxious, climbs under the covers and proceeds to yodel repeatedly into his wife's crotch. And I gotta tell you, if ever there were a perfect metaphor for this show, it's yodeling into someone's crotch. That's almost poetic.