Nate and Lisa, meanwhile, are raiding the hors d'oeuvres table. Lisa thinks the dip tastes like vomit, so Nate offers her some cheese instead. Is that a subtle hint that he'd like to try polygamy as a solution to their marital woes? Because it doesn't really seem to be working all that well for David and Keith. Lisa refuses to accept the cheese, and what I can only assume was about to be a massive dairy-related catfight is prevented when Nate spots Brenda sidling up to the buffet line. "You don't want that," he tells her as she reaches for the dip. "I'm told it tastes like vomit." Brenda seems rather sanguine about running into her ex like this, but she does perk up a bit when she recognizes Lisa from last week's abdominal massage. Lisa, however, does a horrible job of trying to pretend they've never met, and even Nate picks up on the weird vibe as he "introduces" his wife. You'd think Lisa would be rather gratified that he didn't introduce the cheese first, but she still seems really tense about being busted by Brenda. "So what can I eat here?" wonders Nate's long-lost love. And with that, he silently holds out the handful of cheese his wife rejected just moments before. You can almost hear the "Fuck you, Lisa" that's clearly written in his devilish smile (Fk = 3).
Cut to a peppy little montage wherein every single piece of artwork in the room gets sold. Well, every piece but Claire's, that is. Hell, even the photo of the guy with stick figures carved into his back got purchased. Claire watches all this in dismay, and things only get worse when a pair of pretentious Asian art aficionados sneer that "anyone can take a camera to a cemetery." Ouch. "Disturbing work always takes longer to sell," says Russell, in a vain attempt to cheer her up. "That's easy for you to say," she responds. "Yeah, but that was just a fluke. My mother probably called from Florida to put a hold on it." Aww. My mom just called from Florida to put a hold on this recap. That's why it was late.
The Lyceum. Rico has prepared a romantic candle-lit evening for his wife, and he's exulting over the fact that he's found a babysitter to take the kids to "Goofy Golf" for the night. He offers her a glass of wine, but Vanessa points out that she can't drink while she's on medication. Then he stands there kissing her for the next ten minutes, with the wine glass held awkwardly just beneath her nose. Was that bad blocking, or was he testing her to see if she'd cave and take a drink? You be the judge. Finally they make their way over to the sofa, and Rico fulfills our weekly massage requirement by rubbing his wife's shoulders while he whispers sweet nothings about Zoloft in her ear. In lieu of an StC value this week, I've decided to institute Start-to-Massage (StM, not to be confused with StTM) as a reliable indicator of third-season quality. This week's value? 1,625. Not bad, but it's still not good enough to get Rico laid. They end up just sitting there on the sofa, silently contemplating the troubles that have befallen them.