Emmett and Schickle are eating Burger Queen in the back of the limo. Burger Queen, y'all. Emmett says the pickles are his favorite part, of course. Schickle: "I relish the compliment." I can't groan loud enough. Emmett tells a story about Mississippi and fried pickles and how they used to suck pickles on the porch back when he was a boy. Emmett ponders how much those pickles affected his psychosexual development. Schickle damn near pops a vessel laughing at all of the things coming out of Emmett's mouth. Then Emmett goes off on how everyone hated him in Mississippi, but it didn't stop him from being who he wanted to be. "Fuck 'em all, that was my motto," he says. "Still is." Schickle says he lived a lie for a long time to make a family fortune and married a meat-packing heiress to make beautiful sandwiches together. Five years ago she found him giving the gardener a blowjob, and that was the end of it. They hadn't had sex since 1972, but she sued him for everything and now he doesn't see her or the children and is a social pariah. Emmett says that at least he's free to be himself. Schickle says he's friendless and has to find companionship over the internet. Way to bum us out, pickle pops.

The date is doing something to Mikey that makes him sweaty. Mikey mostly appears to be watching what's happening to him with awe more than enjoying what's going on. He tells the date he's perfect. "I know," the date answers. He says he wasn't always perfect. He used to weigh a lot more and have "hideous, coarse body hair." Then he went plastic-surgery-crazy, fixed and implanted everything, and now he's the six-million-dollar man, thanks to his parents' bank account. He's got a trainer, works out five hours a day, and can hardly eat a thing. He says that Mikey could stand some work: lose a few pounds, get a nose job, and get some pec implants. He tells Mikey he might want to consider a penile extension. Mikey's dream date has become a dud yet again. But I thought Mikey liked the egocentric, narcissistic type.