Claire "I Had To Crash That Pussy Wagon" Fisher sits at a table somewhere, staring at a photograph of Edie and smiling a loving smile like she was just asked to partake in the couples' skate at the United Skates of Lesbonia. David "Manic Panic" is soon to enter the kitchen of his house bedecked in a bathrobe and accessorizing with the weight of the world on his shoulders. As he wishes a good morning to Claire, she slides the photo underneath a nearby magazine, though it's only a matter of time before David uses the photo of Edie to conceal a mislaid copy of Rough Trade that should never have been in the kitchen to begin with. David makes for his state-of-the-art coffee/cappuccino/espresso/hot chocolate/houses-for-orphans maker, as Claire quickly leaps up to apologize, "It's not very good. I think Mom's machine is a little more low-tech." David pours and replies, "Sometimes I miss the days when coffee was just coffee." You mean, before you were attacked and everything changed?
Claire makes her way back to the table and tells David she might be too much of a lesbian to make it back for dinner (I'm paraphrasing), and he takes this as his entry point to throw her out of the main chamber of yet another Fisher home: "Y'know what? I don't want you to stay here anymore. It's too much." Claire responds, "No, it isn't," but David lists his anti-symptoms as such: "I was bad before but now I'm starting to sleep a little. I haven't had a panic attack in two days. I've even cut down on all the Ativan. So you are officially evicted as of today." She sheepishly asks if he's sure, as David takes a sip of Claire's Death Brew and proclaims it "gross." A shaking hand places it in the sink without losing a drop because it's apparently so odious that it's like oil used for deep-frying that can't be poured down the sink because it clogs the pipes and corrodes the metal and summons the devil. Claire takes one more stab with a quiet "I don't know. Maybe I should stay." But David -- remember David? He's damaged -- turns quickly around and snipes, "I don't need my baby sister babysitting me anymore, okay?" Yeesh. If you're yelling about the coffee, you're drinking too much coffee.
Contrite because this is the first time a college student on television has ever asked, "No, really, how was your day?" and meant it, David comes over to the table, sits across from Claire, and changes the topic wholesale: "Hey, did you hear those two cats having sex in the alley last night?" Claire skips back to the sixteen happy seconds of Ruth's marriage, telling David, "They were worse than Mom and George." Ha ha, you guys. They probably were Nate and Brenda. Because we're meant to search for meaning in the metaphor of sex being pain somehow, David muses, "I don't know why they do it. It sounds so painful." Well, animal life in the alley is actually conducive to romance, especially when the girl cat feels obligated after the boy cat bought them that plate of spaghetti and they met in the middle of the final strand and fell very much in love.