They arrive in the middle of nowhere at some crappy little apartment, where a creepy guy named Doug sits with his daughters and their shitty little Maltese mop dogs. Inside his sad, tacky little apartment, Doug asks what they thought of the Huskies. Doug immediately says, "They're Eskimo dogs. They shed. Malteses don't shed." Dick. What a dick. Jessica has the nerve to agree with him, as they watch this tiny little dog in a leopard print sweater act a fool. Doug says he has a seven-month-old he was going to show, but it didn't get big enough, and some puppies as well. I think breeders are so sleazy. One of Doug's poor daughters brings in the seven-month-old, and Jessica squeals, and Doug says, "It's not a Husky," and they all laugh at that. Jessica says she wants to put bows in her hair, and Doug says, "You can put bows in her hair. We do." I'm sure Doug puts lots of stuff in his dogs' hair. They pan to Nick, rubbing his face. Ha. Jessica says this is the cutest puppy she's ever seen. Nick asks how much they are, and Doug says that the little boy is $2000 and the girl is $2500. Holy shit! That's ridiculous. "You would make me so happy!" says Jessica, holding up the dog. No, Jessica, nothing would make you happy. That's the function of being a spoiled brat. You are only happy momentarily, while all eyes are on you and you're getting your way and getting a reaction out of people. That's all you love -- camaraderie. Also, the Huskies made Nick incredibly happy, and Jessica laughed at him. Jessica says something, and Nick says, "No." Nick asks the names and Doug says, I hope kidding -- and even then it's not a very good joke -- that they're named "Tuition" and "Mortgage." Doug goes on to say they don't shed and get a whole new coat all the time, "like, say, a Husky or a lab." I would punch Doug in the face. Nick grits his teeth. "Are we doing this?" asks Doug, as Nick gets up and starts to leave. Nick says he'll call him in, like, ten minutes.