Cut to two martial-arts videogame guys kicking the crap out of each other. Judy, watching the bloodshed from the couch, clutches her pearls and wheezes that she doesn't know if she likes this game; it's so violent. Jamian snaps with disgust, "It's a fighting game. What do you think it's gonna be?" Judy's mouth hangs open. Sam just goes on playing, staring vacantly at the screen, so Judy tries again, suggesting that they see a movie. Jamian snarks that he's seen everything. Judy lamely suggests that they see the Charlie Chaplin movie playing down the street -- she bets he hasn't seen that. Jamian can't believe what an idiot she is, and informs her that he doesn't like silent movies, since he has an attention span of 2.2 seconds and all. Jamian kicks Sam's ass at the game, and asks if Sam wants to play again. Sam's all over it, but Judy signals over Jamian's head that she'd like to talk to him. They disappear into the bathroom, and Sam thinks it's for a make-out session. Judy quickly puts the kibosh on that, asking whether he thinks it's good for Jamian to be playing so many violent games. As if it's any of her business. Brakes, Judy. You need to put them on. Sam insists, a little shortly, that he knows "when to pry [Jamian] away."

"Listen to her," Soliloquy Sam gripes in disbelief. "She's nagging me!"

"Listen to me! Am I nagging him? I'm nagging him!" Soliloquy Judy frets.

Back in the bathroom, Judy, embarrassed, smiles and kisses Sam. Sam thinks they're going to get it on, but Judy says she should be going. She thinks Sam should get Jamian into bed. Sam pleads with her to stay, saying he'll get Jamian into bed, and then they can be alone. They kiss. Jamian, wise to their game, pounds on the door, announcing that he has to go to the bathroom. Judy plasters on her saintly smile, and it's all I can do to keep my fist from going through my TV screen.