"Okay, well, sorry about tonight," Jake says, laughing uncomfortably as his date goes to get out of the car. She pulls up the hood on her pink coat and philosophizes, "Hey, when your ex-girlfriend's having your baby, your ex-girlfriend's having your baby." Jake laughs, trying to swallow his bitterness and not fully succeeding. The date ducks her head in to wish Jake and Tammy a merry Christmas before closing the door. Tammy, now in the front seat, says, "So, Tiffany is your ex-girlfriend, she's having your baby, and you're out on a date with that woman, right?" She is so not impressed. Jake hangs his head a little, and Tammy says, "Just trying to get it straight." And let you know what a pig you are, she thinks.
Cut to Tiffany, lying on her back on Lily's bed. The camera pans down, and there's a blanket tented over her knees. Lily's head emerges from beneath it. Needless to say, she looks a little green around the gills, but she's a good sport about it, exhaling hard and saying a bright "Okey dokey!" She clicks off her flashlight, and Tiffany says, "So, it looks like I'm really having this baby, huh?" "Yep," Lily chokes, and then holds up her finger before excusing herself and running out of the room. You can hear her feet on the stairs, and it would be so great if it were followed by a Simpsons getaway (read: car door slamming, tires squealing). Tiffany breathes hard, stares at the ceiling, and looks like she's trying not to cry.
Lily races halfway down the stairs and calls, "Rick! Call Jake and have him bring the midwife to our house. We're having a home birth." Whether we like it or not, her tone implies. Her expression flashes from exhilaration to sheer terror in the span of about two seconds, and she's off up the stairs again. The gang in the living room absorbs the news for a second, stunned. Rick eyeballs the Curmudgeon's vodka rocks and salivates hard. Zoe bursts into the frame, exclaiming, "Cool!" and pogo-ing up and down like a kangaroo on meth.
We're greeted by intense groaning when we return from commercials. The camera pans across the bedroom to Zoe and Tiffany, standing in the doorway. Tiffany is squeezing Zoe's hand. "All right, well, that was two and a half minutes," Lily says, clicking the stopwatch. She leads Tiffany to the bed. Tiffany notices Zoe rubbing her hand and apologizes for mashing it. Zoe says it's okay, and then asks, "What does it feel like?" Tiffany breathes hard and answers, "Kinds of like an Indian burn inside you." Zoe looks sorry that she asked. Tiffany notices Lily clearing off the bed for her and protests that the sheets are too nice. Lily insists that it's okay. "Isn't there going to be, like, epic grossness?" Tiffany asks. Lily again promises that it's okay, and says she'll be right back. She closes the bedroom door with a look of horror.