Close-up of flowers. Isabel walking with Jesse, hemming and hawing about telling her parents about the engagement. Jesse, managing to ignore all of the clues that Isabel has bludgeoned him with, encourages her to spill the beans, telling her that everything will be fine. Perfect, even. He reminds her that their impending nuptials constitute good news. I think Jesse might be a little retarded. Right, affirms Isabel, good news. Good news. Toothy smile, quick smooch, and off she goes to excite her parents with the revelation that she's engaged to a man they don't even know she's dating. Too bad Liz isn't here to blurt it out for her.

Isabel is suddenly sitting in a restaurant with her parents, a fourth chair at the table to remind us of Max's absence from the family circle. The show makes another cursory nod to Halloween, with kids running around in costumes as Isabel's parents reminisce about Halloweens of yore. Like the one when Isabel dressed up as Madonna (how original!) and Max dressed up as Adam Ant, after dragging his mother all over town looking for the perfect shirt. Fag. Max, Max, Max. ["And excuse me, but isn't Max supposed to be, like, eighteen? Which would make him born in 1983? Which would mean that he dressed up as Adam Ant when he was -- what, a year old? I don't think so." -- Sars] Isabel, starting to feel like Jan Brady, approaches fed up and levels with them. She's got news. "About Max?" asks her father. No, buttwipe, about your daughter. Who's at the table. With you. Not in LA, getting blowjob offers from gum-smacking harlots. Isabel starts in with the "good news" crap again, going on and on, trying to convince herself that the news is good, that it's good news, that there's news that is good, and I discover an intense desire to smash her face into the tantalizingly prickly-looking cactus that's sitting in the center of the table. Her perceptive mother gets to the point that keeps eluding Isabel by suggesting that the news doesn't sound too good, but Isabel disagrees, and finally blurts out, "I'm getting married. To Jesse, from your office." From whose office? ["Her father's office." -- Sars] She's relieved, and her parents look utterly confused. Like me. I think we'd all agree at this point that their daughter is certifiable. Can't make a parent too happy when the daughter goes mental and the son is off gallivanting with sluts in the cesspool that is LA.