Meanwhile, David is sitting alone in a restaurant somewhere, showing off his stubble and waiting impatiently for a clearly late Keith to arrive. Judging from his outfit, by the way, it would appear he's chosen not to heed Nate's advice about staying out of Structure. His cell phone rings, and he answers it simply by saying, "Okay, I don't know what kind of power trip you're on, but it seems kind of cruel to be honest." So, of course, Keith has a damn good reason for not being there. Which is why we cut to a hospital, where we learn that Taylor's ever present tummy ache was caused by a nearly ruptured appendix. She's going to be fine, but she's still in surgery, and David desperately desires to comfort his Big Black Soon To Be Back Sex Boyfriend. Keith is furious with himself for not picking up on the symptoms sooner, and David tries to explain that nobody is perfect. "That's what life is all about," says Keith. "Striving for perfection." "God, you are so self-righteous sometimes," replies David, which prompts Angry Keith to call him a "doormat." Well gee, Keith. That doesn't seem like a very good way to woo the boy back, now does it? Before this can degenerate into an actual argument, however, the doctor arrives to let them know that Taylor is out of surgery and doing just fine.
Halfway House for Hirsute Hippies. The freaks are all dancing around a bonfire, especially Not Quite CCH Pounder, who's really got her groove on. An as-yet-unnamed freak (the one who said that her friend remembered Ruth's son), is gallivanting about with a gourd in each hand and an unnecessarily exposed set of gourd-like breasts flopping back and forth between them. Hmm. Ever notice how only ugly people get naked on this show? Seriously. We've had Cockadile Dundee, porn star Cybil Sheppard, a bunch of naked corpses, and now the Gourd Gal. But it's never Keith, or Nate, or even Claire or Brenda, for that matter. Hell, even cute guest stars like DangerSlut and the Hoe Down Ho get to keep their clothes on. If this were Oz, Keith wouldn't even be allowed to own pants, much less wear them. Anyway, Claire and the kid I've preemptively dubbed Loser Boy are sitting off to the side, staring at their elders with bemused disgust. When the Gourd Gal comes over to try and get them to participate, they quickly run off to hide in a nearby tree-house.
Once there, Loser Boy bemoans the fact that his parents are among the freaks dancing around the fire, and that he's their designated driver. Moved by the horror that must be his life, Claire decides to cheer him up by planting a big kiss on him. I knew I hated this guy for a reason. Claire pulls away eventually, saying that they shouldn't be doing this because the thought of "old people having end-of-the-world" sex just outside freaks her out, and also because she didn't bring any condoms. Which implies that she usually does carry condoms. I knew I liked this girl for a reason. Loser Boy, however, feigns surprise. "Oh, like I would even," he says. Shut up, Loser Boy. Also, gag me with a spoon while you're at it. He pontificates further by adding, "You're quite the fox, I'm happy to report, but I would never hook up with somebody I just met. Like ever -- I'm nineteen, okay Claire? I've had the major life experience to know that it just kind of sucks to enter the body of another human being you're not in love with." Yeah. Okay. Let's review here for a moment, shall we? What would YOU do if you were stuck alone in a tree-house with Lauren Ambrose, a bottle of wine, and thirty screaming half-naked hippies outside the window? I mean, I think we all know what I would do (stutter nervously and hope she doesn't call her lawyers), but I also think it's safe to say that any nineteen year-old hornswaggler who passes up an opportunity like this is either gay, terminally stupid, or so incredibly full of himself that he considers sex with the greatest girl on the planet to be beneath him. I'm betting it's that third one, by the way, although I wouldn't be surprised if "terminally stupid" also turned out to be true.
Over at the hospital, Keith and Taylor are talking. She apologizes for getting sick, and he apologizes for not paying more attention to her stomach problems. "We need to have a code word, okay?" he says. "Some secret word you can use to let me known when the pain is real and not just playing." And then from the mouth of babes comes this week's meta-statement: "The pain was always real." Aww. Poor Taylor. Appendicitis and bad dialogue make a really killer combination.