Cut back to Juliette's house where her smug assessment of the video is, "Four million views... not bad." Glenn is on the phone and in a bit of a panic, while Jolene blathers on about the lack of suitable cereal options. Shouldn't she be eating, like, sawdust for breakfast? Glenn tells Juliette that McKenna is on her way to JFK. Juliette is a little taken aback, and notes that McKenna has Kristin Stewart to worry about. They totally dubbed that in! I feel like they could have just safely kept in "Lindsay," for any air date now or in the future. It turns out that McKenna is Juliette's publicist, and the appropriate person to call in the event of a publicity nightmare. As Jolene complains that Juliette has no milk, Juliette complains that Jolene has to stay in her house. Glenn can't believe that Juliette is complaining about anything other than her own shoddy scandal-creating behavior. Juliette tells Glenn to relax because, as McKenna would say, any publicity is good publicity. Glenn seems certain that this is NOT what McKenna would say at this particular moment, and Juliette snits back, "At least I look good." Except she didn't, really.
And then it's time to check in with Scarlett, who's writing magical poems in the little toadstool where she lives. Avery comes home after a long day of... doing whatever it is he does... and Scarlett notes that she's just been sitting around waiting for the phone to ring, apparently with news of whether she and Gunnar got a publishing deal. Avery points out that, after putting exactly no effort into her career, she got to record a demo with Watty White. That's an opportunity that a lot of people would kill for, he says. Does this mean there's a chance that Avery will kill Scarlett? Silver lining! To take her mind off of it all, the two start making out. They are interrupted by Gunnar, who's come with what seems like sad news. But it's not! It's happy news. They got the publishing deal! Scarlett runs into Avery's not exactly waiting arms, giddy with excitement. Avery is neither giddy nor excited, as you might have guessed.













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