Car. Night. Jessica is tired in back. Her phone rings. It's Nick. She's tells him she's not in Boston yet, but somewhere outside of it. "In Lowell, Massa-tushes." She tries again and then tells him that she cannot ever say the name of the state correctly. "Mashatussets." "Mass-a-two-shits." Goddamn, she's dumb. She makes Tori Spelling look like a Gilmore Girl. She gives a tired giggle and throws a look to her mom. "I don't know. Whatever," she says. Yes, the name of one of the original colonies. Whatever. "Two plus two? I don't know. Five. Whatever."
Theme. Wedding. Ass. House. Recording. "This I Swear."
Hollywood montage. Sunset. Her poster outside Tower Records -- the now bankrupt chain. Lillian Street. An ivy-covered building right next to (you can see it in the shot) the theatre at which my comedy group performs. I say that only because I'm pretty sure you can see us getting high on the roof in this establishing shot. Inside, a set. Nick voice-overs that he's waiting for Jessica so they can film a sketch for a VH1 show. Nick sits with some dude, looking over the script. "Look at this. I have two friggin' lines," he bitches. He goes on that Jessica has to speak French in the sketch, so they'll be there all night. Seriously, I know VH1 is too busy making sure Joel Stein only gets blue M&Ms in his dressing room, but doesn't someone there ever watch Newlyweds enough to know that asking Jessica Simpson to speak a foreign language is probably not a good idea? Unless that certain person is angling for overtime, because then that would be a really sly move.
Car. Jessica looks at the script, saying that she's not sure she's ever "sat and listened" to someone speak French. Que? She sweetly takes pains to point out that "Nick only has three lines" while she has forty, a proud gleam of "Who's the boss, bitch" in her eye. Or maybe that's just eye goo. Hard to tell with her.
Nick tries to call Jessica, but she can't find her phone in her purse. What's the deal with that move, there? Girls, why can you never find anything in your purse? I bet I could make so much money making Purse Inserts, that broke up the purse into twenty different sections -- keys, sunglasses, and cell phones being right near the front. It probably wouldn't work, because you know you'd just put the lipstick where the wallet goes, the cell phone in the tampon pouch. It would be a disaster. Jessica finds her phone, having missed the call, and goes on to tell us how Nick has called her six times and she didn't even know it. Wow. She's good with the subtle power play.