Why don't these people actually have a conversation about what they're doing on New Year's Eve before New Year's Eve? Who goes out alone on New Year's Eve? What's Enigma, and wasn't this show once about aliens? I am the one with many, many questions. We're on Liz's roof, Liz apologizing to Max and Max sadly responding, "It's all right. I had a feeling he wasn't going to let you get off work." Well then, why not just go ahead and make some other plans, or oh, never mind. She asks what he's going to do instead, and he all haughtily responds, "Go back to Michael's and avoid New Year's Rockin' Eve." Okay, first of all, it's called Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve. Everything possessive. Everything in that title either owns or is owned by something else in that title. Just like the New Year itself. Second of all, that show is an institution, and making fun of it is both anti-American and anti-lunar-calendar. So cram it, Commie. Liz suggests that Max could just go out with Maria and Michael, and Max asks all quizzically, "To Enigma?" Jesus. Does that word have a deal with the network to be product-placed four billion times a scene until it outpaces its closest synonyms of "mystery" and "paradox"? But Max claims that he's not really a party guy. He's more of a "one-on-one" guy. He kisses her smackily, and she goads him into going out, telling him exactly what Jesse told Isabel about him not having a crappy New Year's on her account. Except she uses the word "crummy," so I guess the UPN acquired a Standards & Practices Department at some point in the last twelve minutes. Max says that he'll go, but "with one condition: midnight comes and we're together." But how? HOW? "We'll find a way. Somehow, some way, we'll make it happen." Liz agrees, which is good for more tongue-y tonguing. Max finally takes his leave, leaping off the roof and sadly using the ladder.
Porno's band warms up for another local homespun gig, as a crowd of eminently mockable elderly folks (put 'em in the cloying Christmas episode and they'd all be the saintly aged, though) makes their way through the front door of the Crashdown. Liz stands out front, handing out small cardboard alien heads and announcing quite forlornly, "Make a resolution and stick it on the cactus." Yeeps. "Stick it on the cactus." Sounds just like something Jesse Ramirez might be saying during those long, lonely nights waiting for his "connecting flight." But Liz's self-important dreariness is soon to be interrupted by the approach of a pleasant older woman, who bids Liz hello and reminds her that she is "Jane Covendall," who Liz met at "a couple of months ago, remember, the movie thing?" Eh? Please tell me that this is a plot thread picked up from one of those episodes I didn't recap because we all go a little crazy sometimes, and not just some character invented out of blue hair and dusty old Velamints who just appeared out of nowhere from "that movie thing." I hate this show. She and Liz chat about Porno's band, Mysterious Jane (one might even go so far as to call her an enigma?) showing her piss-and-vinegar side in noting, "I hope those bastards can play!" Ew. Sassy old broads. I do not prefer them. Slackjaw appears then, and Liz plays another card in the get-out-of-Crashdown-free Community Chest, asking, "How about a compromise? I will stay for the party, but then once we do the whole stupid pretend-it's-midnight-at-ten-thirty thing, I'm outta here, okay?" Slackjaw is angry, initially telling Liz he doesn't want to get "stuck doing all the clean-up," then coming clean himself and admitting, "I don't want you and Max catting around the desert all night." He adds that her "plans for the evening are set." Yawn. I liked him better that time the curtains came back up and he had turned into Aimee Mann.