Later, Bryan practices with his Could Ya Get Me A Small Tape Recorder; they all practice with the sample music separately. Chris admits that he has no idea what he's doing, but this is a lie. He totally knows what he's doing, both with Bryan and with his Dictaphone and songwriting. Meanwhile, Jeff is pissing and moaning and doing the dishes. This is how he writes songs, he explains: by not doing anything to do with music, then complaining his hot ass off about doing the dishes. He grasshoppers like a motherfucker well into the late autumn and meanwhile, the ants are storing up smooth beats. But if you think there's going to be a hubris payoff? There's not. He's kind of perfect in some ways and this is one of them. I think maybe this is one of those The Thing That Makes You Awesome Is The Thing That Makes You Suck issues, like, he does know what he's doing, but that also provokes him to get paralyzed about proving that he knows what he's doing, because what if he doesn't, and also how dare you ask, and all of this combines and causes him to act like a pair of pantyhose sometimes.
Bryan Michael Cox is totally charming and trying to treat them like human beings. He tells us about how this whole horrible idea is such a long shot that he could well become the Emperor of California if he pulls it off. If he doesn't, he still worked with Mariah. I wish my life were such that I could throw that around the way everybody else does. Like at the Apple store: "Fix my Nano and don't give me lip. I produced a Mariah track." Or at Taco Bell: "Mariah Carey would not allow this!" In the studio, sumptuous Jeff is still better than this entire process, both literally and in his mind, and he stresses everybody out. They are this close to just openly laughing at him. Or possibly beating him up while he sleeps. Just don't touch the face, boys. I mean, menz.
Rich tells us that he's going to suck, then sucks. In front of everybody. His song employs the term "sunshines," which is great, and then freestyles slowly and awkwardly and fake-ghetto-ly it's a list of things he remembers from childhood, because I guess that's all he's got. It's dead boring, so here are some lyrics from his one successful song ever, instead, because they are pure comedy on a level this show will never quite reach: "Hip-hop marmalade spic & span/ Met you one summer and it all began/ You're the best girl that I ever did see/ The great Larry Bird, jersey 33/ When you take a sip you buzz like a hornet/ Billy Shakespeare wrote a whole bunch of sonnets/ Call me Willy Whistle cause I can't speak baby/ Something in your eyes went and drove me crazy/ Now I can't forget you and it makes me mad/ Left one day and never came back/ Stayed all summer then went back home/ Macauley Culkin wasn't Home Alone/ Fell deep in love, but now we ain't speaking/ Michael J. Fox was Alex P. Keaton/ When I met you I said my name was Rich/ You look like a girl from Abercrombie & Fitch." Illiterate aphasic or Gertrude Stein devotee? You decide.