Back at the hotel, Jessica milks this for all the attention she can get. She crouches while waiting for the elevator, curls up on the lift floor, and caps it by crawling to her hotel room door. Ma Simpson helpfully points out that Nick is going to have to carry her. Nick ignores both of them, because he's busy on the phone asking his lawyer to tape the show for use in his forthcoming temporary insanity defense. "You're not pregnant, are you?" Ma Simpson chirps. We smash to the commercials suddenly wondering if poor Nick's going to get any sex at all in the wake of this, so that Jessica can say, "See? It's impossible!"

NYC skyline. Jessica, the poor little wolf in lamb's clothing, announces that she's had a rough time in New York. She apparently went to a doctor and got hooked up to an IV for two hours, and found out she had a twenty-four-hour flu. My ass. Those cupcakes were skanky. They're back at the studio to finish up the shoot, this time with close-up shots of her applying lip gloss -- which basically means she's posed like she's going to fellate the application wand. Nick checks up on her. "As long as there's no vomiting, that's a step in the right direction," he nods. And in a flash of a montage, the shoot's complete. Tom Thumb really had her under his.

Jessica, Nick, and pals sit at a restaurant at night, clearly drunk off their asses. She's talking about how the crescent moon makes her think of a baby. Her drunk friends, who I think are Leah and Drew, are not sober enough to laugh politely and instead are all, "What the fuck?" She giggles and slurs that it reminds her of moon-and-star decorations you see in nurseries. She then drools over the pretty cloud passing over it, and someone has to correct her that it is in fact smoke being burped from a stack. Then…you know, I should stop trying to find linear progression in these conversations. It just makes my brain hurt. Somehow, Jessica decides that all this is like "the seagull flying with the baby attached to its…gulls." Duct tape. That's what we need here. Duct tape can fix anything. No one can believe the inanity of what they've just heard, so Jessica just giggles and tries to look cute so that Nick won't file for a divorce until the cameras have switched off. "My mom had me in an hour," Jessica announces. Couldn't wait to get rid of you, huh? "Impatient from day one," Nick says, barely able to muster a pleasant expression even when making a joke at Jessica's expense, which I think isn't fun for him anymore because he has to act like it's a loving and affectionate jab, when really, he'd prefer that to be stabbing at her with his dickknife. Or a cleaver.