And then she heads over to the horvy-dorvy table, where she encounters Olivier. "Avoid the shrimp rolls," he advises. "They seem to be covered with fecal matter." They exchange greetings as if they hadn't seen each other at Nate's wedding. He hands her a drink and gushes, "One of my most brilliant students, and the smartest. Which, of course, you know is not the same thing." Claire, already tired of him, moans, "Shut up." But she's just kidding on the square. Olivier comments on her smile. "Where's your self-righteousness?" Claire says she lost it. Olivier asks about Claire's date. Blinking sarcastically, Claire says, "I'd introduce you to him but I don't want you to fuck him." That earns her a hearty laugh from Olivier, who says he just found her self-righteousness. She asks about Billy's quitting his teaching position. "Well, apparently you crushed him," Olivier says, to a stunning non-reaction from Claire. She asks if Olivier's got anything in the show, and he admits there's nothing: "I still paint, but it's all shit. And the only person who buys my art is my rich patron of a mistress. Do you know the humiliation involved in that?" Claire's thinking, How awful. Where can I get one of those? Olivier pontificates about fallow periods when artists must "let the soil rest to prepare for new growth." Claire hopefully asks if that's true. Olivier fervently hopes it is, or else he'll have to start driving a cab. "You don't drive," Claire reminds him. "Well, then I'm really fucked, aren't I?" he jokes. They laugh. Olivier asks what she's up to, and she says she's working a shitty job and hating her life. "It sucks, doesn't it," he asks sympathetically. Does the program say in it somewhere that everyone has to make nice with Claire?
Just then there's the sound of breaking glass, because Russell has smashed his wine bottle against the mighty shaft of Jimmy's sculpture. He flings himself upon it to tear it down, but discovers it to be completely immovable. His boots squeak impotently on the floor. "[Jimmy]'s indestructible! He's fucking indestructible!" he screams. From nowhere, Jimmy falls upon him and the two artists grapple on the floor. Russell even hisses at him like a cat. "Ah," Olivier says happily to Claire. "Theater." I don't remember Russell being this entertaining before. He should always get hit by a car.
Now that dinner's over and the kids are in bed, Keith and David are boxing up all the knives in the house. "This is gonna be pretty inconvenient when I want to butter my toast in the morning," David remarks. "Use a spoon," Keith growls, and grabs all the chopsticks. When David balks, Keith says, "You can kill a man with a chopstick, David." David's still making excuses for Durrell, saying Keith scared him. Jesus, David, you ever hear of a united front? Durrell's going to exploit your differences and keep playing you two off of each other until you either break up or send the kids back. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Keith says he wants a stronger lock for Durrell's bedroom door. "What if there's a fire?" David asks. Putting the chef's knives, block and all, into the box David's holding, Keith snaps, "Let 'im burn." Harsh.