Eli arrives at work carrying coffee and scones. He tries the door, only it's a pull-out instead of a pull-in. A blond Babe-in-Waiting opens the door the right way and starts chastising the poor fellow for taking so long with the coffee. She wants to know what the heck took him so long. He explains that there was a line. She doesn't buy it. She's done the coffee run, and it never takes that long. The two walk down the hallway. She tries to grab the coffee, and says, "You know what? I think you're better off not going in there right now, okay?" Eli: "What? Are you kidding me?" They struggle with the coffee. I'm imagining one of them pulling, then releasing, and seeing coffee spill crap all over the pristine white walls of the recording studio. BIW wants Eli to be more "proactive" today. God, I hate that word. I hate the connotation of that word. I hate everything about that word. Eli says, "More pro-what?" The big boss comes over, tells BIW to deal with the coffee, and then pulls Eli aside. It's not looking good for Eli. It's never good when the boss pulls you aside like that. Eli rambles on about traffic, about screwing up something about a tape, and then says he'll try to do better in the next little while. He knows he can do a better job. Without a pause, the Boss says, "You're fired." Just like that. As easily as asking, "How're you?" or "What's going on?" Rightfully, Eli is a little stunned. The Boss continues, "It's just not working out, Eli. I want to respect you enough to be completely honest with you." "Proactive"? "Respect" and "completely honest"? Don't worry Eli; this looks like a pretty sucky place to work anyway. ["Since when do respect or honesty have anything to do with the recording industry?" -- Wing Chun] Should Eli finish out the day? Um, nope, he gets to leave right now. BIW stands behind the glass doors and watches Eli go.
Between then and now, BIW has managed to leave work, drop by Eli's, remove all of her clothes, and have a quick roll in the hay; she is now starting to pull her clothes back on again. She wants Eli to help her with her bra. Ah, she's a woman. She really is, honest -- the lacy black bra tells me so. Eli sits up in bed and says, "What?" Not to the bra-putting-on bit, but to something BIW said before we entered the scene. She says, "Don't worry, I handled it." He leans forward, does up her bra for her, and then whines, "I don't believe this. I can't catch a break." Now, she's moved on to the full-leg sock-type tights. Up goes one. Up goes the other. All the while, she's trying to convince the young stud that she handled the "situation." Eli continues to worry: "No. You don't understand. That's my mother. She's a lawyer. She probably figured out I got fired instantaneously." Hey, Eli, don't worry -- BIW covered for you, and according to her, she's "extremely believable." Yeah, especially when she tells people her hair is "really" that colour and that those breasts are "real." Yawn. BIW can go now. Except that Eli wants the whole story. What exactly did BIW say to Karen? BIW: "That you left work early." Now, there's a good cover story. He moans that her story's not very believable. She shoves him and says, "It was!" Blah, you don't know my mother, blah she had to pick the day I get fired, blah. BIW continues her brilliant exposition on the matter of leaving work early. And come on -- Karen wasn't checking up; she just wanted to take Eli to the play. Which, of course, signals the "oh shoot" portion of the episode in which Eli, master of the messing-up-his-life archetype, moans, "The play." BIW tells him to go; she thinks it'll "cheer him up." Only he was supposed to be there now, and considering he's half-dressed, chances are he's not going to make it on time. Blah, where's my barrette, blah. More dressing. All of her clothes seem to pull on, tie up or button together. Nothing actually has to go over her head. It's kind of strange actually. Eli: "So, what do we do now?" He still wants to see BIW even though they're not working together anymore. Boy, is he having a bad day, because she, too, "respects" him enough to tell him the truth: it's over. Blah, he wants it to be sugarcoated, blah fake kissy-kiss, blah. Goodbye, BIW, don't let the door hit you on the way out.