Out in the living room, Lily takes her place in the center of the mute and illiterate group of students. Creepitri hands her the play and shows her the lines they need her to read. Creepitri and Grace start saying lines, and Lily agitatedly reads over her sticky notes, glances at her watch, and rubs her forehead. Because she's very busy. "Mom," Grace says. Lily snaps to attention and reads off a line. Blah blah blah from Grace, and then it's Lily's turn again. As Lily's reciting her line, Jessie comes through the front door and catches the cuckoo in her nest. She looks hurt that the show went on without her. Lily finishes her line, and Creepitri thanks her, taking back the play. He notices Jessie standing in the foyer and sarcastically thanks her for joining them. Asshole. Lily asks Jessie what happened. "I walked," Jessie answers glumly. "But Grace said she thought that you --" Lily says. The smile slips off Grace's face pretty damn fast, now that she's busted. Jessie quickly says that it's okay. Lily fires off a double-barreled stink-eye at Grace.
Meanwhile, over at the office, Rick and Sam are entertaining Ian the pompous ass. He's basically just Miles II, but without the charm or interest. He's regaling them with some pretentious bullshit about another project he worked on, and trying his damnedest to sound like an ahr-teest. Rick and Sam aren't even listening. The clock on the wall says it's 4:10, which means that Rick is already over an hour late for dinner. Finally, Rick decides he's had enough, and pops out of his chair abruptly. He informs Ian that he's going home. Rick asks Sam whether he's coming. "Ian hasn't finished his story yet," Sam says, brown-nosing with wild abandon. Ian doesn't get that he's being mocked.
Lily finally caves and brings the turkey out to the table, which is surrounded by thespians picking away at her food like vultures. Creepitri herds them out, reminding them that they aren't invited to dinner. He remembers to thank Lily on his way out.
In the kitchen, Tiffany and Raoul are discussing the Beatles, and how a person's favorite Beatle says a lot about their personality. ["I hope someone's favorite Beatle was George. Snif!" -- Sars] Tiffany lights a candle and turns to head for the dining room. She gasps in pain and sets the candle on the stove as she clutches her belly. Raoul rushes over, ever the concerned emergency plumber. Tiffany decides that she's okay. Lily comes into the kitchen with an exuberant, "Okay!" Raoul informs her that he's all done, and buttons the cuff of his non-plumbing shirt. Lily asks what time is his dinner, and when he answers that it's at seven o'clock, she invites him to stay and eat with them, too. Raoul laughs self-consciously and tries to beg off, but Lily and Tiffany won't hear of it. He relents and sets down his invoice, saying he'll go wash up. Speaking of which, I hope he washed up every time he diddled around with dinner, after having his hands in the pipes and shit all day. Lily and Tiffany head to the dining room, leaving Tiffany's candle on the stovetop. The flame licks the edge of a pot holder. Dun dun duuuuun.