Michael finishes putting up his Rage display. This can't be good for the other comics in his store, all this Rage-centric stuff. It's also not good for Michael's raging Brian crush. Justin comes into the shop, all haggard. Michael tells him that he looks like shit. He says that they have an interview with Pittsburgh Out in a second, and that Justin could have dressed up a little. Justin points out that he's an artist and is supposed to look like hell. Michael says that this is for Brian. Isn't it, though? Justin pissily makes his coffee and pissily complains that everything's always for Brian. "Brian calls all the shots! Brian controls the show. Including us." Michael practically reads from our forum: "If you ask me, he's been pretty good to you. I mean, he saved your life. Took you in, he's putting you through school. He protects you. He looks after you. You know? Whether you believe it or not, he loves you. More than he's ever loved anyone." Hey, Jealousy! Justin says that Brian doesn't love him: "He fucks me." Michael stands up on his high horse and says, "Well, why don't you find somebody else?" Pause, pause, pause. "Or maybe you already have." I wish I knew who was on the Polaroid so obviously placed over Michael's left shoulder. Justin asks if Brian told Michael. "He never said a word," Michael says, like that shows some kind of dignity in Brian. "I told him," he says heroically. Justin asks how Michael knew. "I saw the two of you kissing on the street!" like Justin was having sex on Liberty Avenue by a stop sign. Justin calls Michael an asshole. "Don't call me an asshole," Michael retorts. He calls Justin an ungrateful little prick. Justin tells Michael to mind his own business. Michael says that Brian is his business, since he's Michael's best friend. Justin: "Fuck you, Michael! Fuck you! Fuck you!" Ah, this show does have a way with words, doesn't it? The reporter guys show up right at this point, of course, and Justin storms out of there, leaving Michael to do the interview alone with his self-righteousness and smug serenity. And look, seriously, when you live in Pittsburgh, it's not "Out." It's "Aht." Get it the fuck right or set the fucking show in Toronto, where it'll be "Oot."