The Ironic Segue Fairy, however, seems to be stuck in a bit of a rut, as we fade up from a black-and-white title card announcing the death of one Chandler James "Warren Beatty" Swanson to hear Keith nudging David to "wake [his] tired ass up, sleepy-head." There's some kissing, and some groping, and also a complete disregard for the likelihood of morning breath, and then we pan over to see The Late Nate watching intently because he's "kinda curious as to how this works." David freaks, and who can guess what's coming? Yep. Dream sequence. David wakes up again, this time with an excellent rendition of the always-funny drool take. Noticing the time, he bolts from bed and starts getting dressed. Enter Keith (Start-to-Robe = 203), who flirts a bit before thanking David for staying over. After slipping in some exposition about the reading of The Late Nate's will, David tries to weasel out of a meeting of "Gay Police and Firemen" by explaining that it's their busy season down at the funeral home: "A lot of people hang on for one last Christmas, and then...buh-bye." Uh, isn't it almost July?
Cut to Nate Jr., on the receiving end of a Brenda back-rub. "I always thought Shiatsu was more intense than this," he mumbles into the mattress, and she assures him that it will be. There's an interminable amount of psychobabble as Brenda attempts to determine precisely where Nate has been "wounded." He explains that he "once got stabbed in the thigh with a Bic pen," but given that a friend once accidentally put out a lit cigarette on my thigh, I don't really think that suffering a little pen-prick can be considered getting "wounded." For God's sake, people, I haven't worn shorts since. Brenda is, of course, speaking of a more metaphysical sort of wounding, and she locates a knot in his back that she claims represents things that happen "that leave a mark in space. In time. In us." No, it didn't sound any better when she said it out loud. You know, just in case you were wondering. Nate finally gets frustrated with all the philosophy, and flips over to face his friend. "I get enough depth at home," he says, "You're supposed to be my haven from all that." Rachel Griffiths does a passable job of looking sultry, and replies, "I'm not supposed to be anything." Except a literary device, of course, and a poorly conceived one at that.
Which, of course, provides the Ironic Segue Fairy with the perfect opportunity to introduce Potential Gimmick #2. And here he is: "Hey, kids! Kenny the Corpse here. You see, Aaron just recently discovered that the previous tenant in his new apartment left me and a few friends wedged under the floorboards. I caught him watching Six Feet Under (as well as something called Deep Throat, which I'll just assume was a Watergate documentary) and felt kinda sorry for him, so I popped up out of the floor to chat. All I can say is, thank God for portable defibrillators. Anyway, we got to talking about the show, and he thought I might have some insights on this whole pesky death thing that I could share with you. So here I am. Any questions?"