It's just a dream, so don't get excited. Dream Brenda arrives at her dream home to find dream Nate sitting on the couch with his dream head in his dream hands. She sits down on the table and he cries about how guilty he feels about being alive. Nate admits that he wanted Lisa "out of [his] life," which, if I'm not mistaken, was a shot they included in last week's "next week on," which is totally cheating. Nate adds, "It should have been me." Brenda tells him how many people need him, ending with "I need you. I need you so much." Nate looks up with pinched crying face, but it evaporates in a second when he barks, "That's the problem! You're so full of holes. You're this gaping, bottomless pit of need." With which Joe's voice adds to the mix when Nate screams at the top of his lungs, "You neurotic, tedious, self-absorbed bitch!" Which is so weird that that's what Joe said, except it's not because it's a dream and Brenda's at a light and someone behind her is honking. Google tried to tell us about women drivers. Did we listen? Did YOU?
George sits at a table in the living room reading while Maya is plopped down across the room in front of what looks like a television special about oil. George takes off his glasses and stares at Maya for a second, and then commences in sitting at the table and sobbing. See? You don't feel the slightest bit bad for him and his broken life at all? Maya knocks over her sippy-cup and mutters a meaningful "Uh-oh," which I actually believe was my niece's first word, spoken in a similarly dire circumstance. George walks over, still crying, and mops up the water or the juice or the Sunny D or the purple stuff or whatever, explaining through the tears, "Life is a series of accidents. One after another." Maya just smiles blandly. Isn't silly Grandpa so existential? Isn't he? Isn't he? That's a good girl.
David places the plastic-wrapped Blue Tornado book on poor Lawrence Tuttle's ample frame. He then picks it up to take a closer look, gingerly removing it from its plastic in full recognition of the fact that nothing makes a vintage comic book plummet in value faster than worm bites. He opens it up as tinny superhero music begins to play. David flips through page after colorful page, coming to rest on an ad for amazing 3-D spectacles (a real 3-D buff David is becoming in this episode!) on the inside back cover. The "X-Ray Spectacles" were made by a real live scientician, and the drawing depicts a man in a zoot suit with slicked-back hair wearing enormous glasses (because they have to make them big to stuff in all three dimensions) and speaking the word "Amazing!" while staring at a drawing of a comely brunette with a waist I could make an "okay" sign around and extraordinarily pointy tits hiding under that tight dress. This is not for children! The '40s were perverted! We need to return to a time in this country when values and morals were pure, except we can't because there wasn't one, so everyone calm down about the Super Bowl it was seven months ago for Chrissakes. David zeroes in on the pointy tits, and a sound effect that starts on a high note and then veers an octave above and then back down kicks up. It's the exact same sound effect as the one we hear every time Uma Thurman is about to kill in Kill Bill. David puts the magazine back in its plastic and back in the coffin with a troubled look on his face because he really saw something of Keith in the pencil sketch drawing of that man from The Past. What's he so worried about? Doesn't he know there weren't any black people in this country in the '40s? Hello? David, get your facts straight.