As they pack up their stuff, Pete asks Clark for a "sneak preview." Is that some sort of sex thing? Clark shakes his head. Pete nudges Clark some more and says he won't tell Bo Duke. Clark uses his x-ray vision to look inside the grade book. It says that Clark has a C+, Pete a B+, Tool Boy a solid C. Pete asks how he did. Clark says he was smart to stick to the basics. Yep. Good old Basic Pete.
Hallway. Tool Boy rushes between Clark and Pete and runs down the hall. Pete asks what's up. Clark says that Tool Boy's legendary 4.0 average just took a hit. A bong hit? Pete says that Tool Boy is an academic dynamo, but all his extra classes mean something's gotta give.
Back in Shop class, Squat is doing some after-hours metal sanding. He's building a stainless steel résumé for his next death-of-the-week acting gig. Tool Boy suddenly appears. He slurs that he needs an A in this class. It's sad when academic kids go on benders and then go and embarrass themselves like this. Squat says that the grades will be posted on Thursday. Tool Boy grabs him by the arm and says he needs to know now. Squat says it's a C, and that was generous. Tool Boy says he works twice as hard as anyone in the school does, and needs a 4.0 to lock down a Luthor Foundation Scholarship. It's a speech-therapy foundation. Squat throws off Tool Boy's arm; he says the conversation is over and the grade stands. Tool Boy turns off the lights. Locks the doors. Puts on some loud crap music. Raises a lit torch. Tool Boy's attempts to look evil are just sad. He looks like a demented bunny. Squat turns around, and there's Tool Boy again! This time he's holding the shiv. He stabs Squat in the heart with the tool that can't open letters, but that can open heart valves. (See, I told you, pendejo. Cut you, man.) Squat keels over. "I just can't accept a C," Tool Boy says, but I had to read it on closed captioning because you can't hear it over the music.
Opening credits. Friday After Next looks kinda funny, actually.
The Talon. The marquee reads, "Two for one latte specials." That's a lotta latte. Lex exits, carrying a little lidded cup of the hot stuff. He's also wearing sunglasses a lot lately. Doesn't he know we like it when we can see his eyes? Lex is speaking into a cell phone about knowing that he's late to a plant tour for an EPA representative. But he had time for a stop at The Talon? As Lex comes to his convertible, some guy in a plastic yellow jacket is writing out a ticket. Lex says he was only there for five minutes. Yellow Jacket -- who is a meter butler -- says he's already started writing the ticket. Lex says he's in a hurry and has a headache and doesn't have time for this. Has he got time for the pain? The red-headed ticket guy -- who looks like a grown-up Ron Weasley -- says he wouldn't want Lex to miss his tee time. We see that Lex has a set of golf clubs sticking out of the back seat. Lex says the clubs are for a charity auction. Yellow Jacket says that Lex will give away a $4,000 set of golf clubs, but will gripe over a $25 ticket. I don't think it's the fine he's griping about. Lex smiles. He asks, getting in the guy's face, if he's done something to offend Mr. Yellow Jacket. Yellow Jacket says it's always the rich ones who put up a stink. Especially those flatulent rich people. Yellow Jacket says that some people actually work for a living. Like red-headed character actors, for instance. He advises Lex to watch where he parks in the future. He looks down at Lex's license plate, which says "LEX XIV." "Lex," Yellow Jacket finishes, saying it with a contemptuous grin and head shake. That's it. Lex is pissed. He nods his head a little, grabs a golf club, and uses it to go all Jack Nicholson. He whacks the windshield. "Are you crazy?" Yellow Jacket whines. Lex says he employs 2,500 people in town. He takes a whack at the front headlight. Lex says he pays taxes which provide Yellow Jacket's salary. He takes out another headlight. People have gathered and gasp at Lex's every move. I think they're all a little sexually aroused, too. Lex tossed the club at Yellow Jacket, who catches it. "Get a real job," Lex says. Ooh, burn. And a burning from a flaming man is even worse. Yellow Jacket takes a deep breath, thoroughly emasculated. Hey, at least he's still got his jacket.