The Body Shoppe. Rico is embalming Daddy (StC = 1,727) as Dopey sits by and watches silently. The tension is broken when Rico's cell phone rings, and he picks up to find a school nurse on the other end of the line. Apparently no one was answering at the Diaz house, and the school has a "public health emergency," so they decided to try calling Rico at work. "Is Julio sick?" he asks urgently. "Not exactly," replies the nurse. "But someone needs to pick him up right away. He has a raging case of head lice." Ew. Although considering some of the dire predictions we've been making about Julio this year, the lice seem to be letting him off pretty easy. Unless they're killer lice, of course, like the ones Khan had in that Star Trek movie. That would be cool.
Azusa. Claire arrives to pick up the sculpture Olivier wanted, only the woman artist she's supposed to be getting it from has no idea what she's talking about. Said artist is also obviously lonely and desperate for company, because she begs Claire to hang out for a while. "You're a really white person," she wheedles. "The desert is dangerous for you. It's like driving in a microwave." But I thought her flesh was supposed to be burning?
More paintball. David and Sarge hide out behind some sandbags, and get hilariously overdramatic as they contemplate how they're going to take down Keith. "I think I can get him," says Sarge, "but…" "One of us will have to die," finishes David, as he agrees to be the sacrificial lamb. "You really think you can put an end to this?" he asks Sarge. "I know I can," comes the answer. "Even if I'm shot, I guaran-damn-tee you I'll take him with me to hell!" Cue dramatic music, and…scene.
Azusa again. Claire and Art Lady have settled down for a little conversation, the low-light of which comes when Art Lady actually uses the word "art" as a verb. She also admits to having been Olivier's assistant herself back in the day, an experience she describes thusly: "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Wow. It's a close call, but that might actually be an SFU record for most the fucks in a single sentence. It certainly pegged my Fk counter to the red line. Claire quickly clarifies that she's not fucking Olivier, causing Art Lady to cock an eyebrow and inquire, "Oh, is he having a boy year?" Dun dun DUN! Claire starts to look a little nervous as she remembers that Russell is back in L.A., all alone with Olivier. Is he getting some play, or is Russell really not gay? Who can say?
Paintball. With David and Sarge camped out on the outskirts of Baghdad, it looks like the final battle has arrived. They've got Keith caught in a crossfire, but the Big Black Sex Cop remains ever-defiant. "I can take you both!" he brags, and if the editing is to be believed, he actually can. David bolts out from behind a bush, yelling that he doesn't feel like "talking" right now, and then everything goes into slow-motion as Keith shoots his boyfriend in the chest and then pirouettes to take out Sarge just as Sarge fires his own gun. Keith shot first, so his team wins, but everyone ends up dead together in The Matrix: Reservoir (Dogs)-style bullet-time. And then the whistle blows, and the game is over. If you're really quick, you can spot The Ho-Buck braiding a girl's hair in the background as he waits on the sidelines. It's not the Mullet-Head Dyke, though, which would have been even funnier. Oh, well.