Creepy old guy at a phone booth. Is it wrong that every time he comes onscreen, I just want to skip through his scenes? Maybe they should have a rule that no one over forty-five is allowed on the show. (Unless Cigarette Smoking Man from The X-Files comes on the show, as rumors are suggesting.) Old Heavy is at a bar. He asks the bartender about a girl. He shows the school dance picture to the solidly built bartender. Old Heavy threatens the 'tender -- he says the girl is under twenty-one and that's just against the law, for her to be in such an establishment. Thick Bartender takes the pic.
The Talon at night. The marquee reads "Monster Movie Marathon." Inside, Pete, Chloe, and Lana are at a table. So Lana shut down the coffee shop just so she'd have a place to study? Or is it after hours? Who the hell knows. There's a knock at the door. Lana answers it. It's Clark in his Old Navy-looking blue shirt. Lana says they're studying the Red Scare for American History class. Clark asks if they can do it tomorrow. Which part of cramming for a test the next day does he not understand? He says it's nice outside. He asks Lana if they can go for a drive or go dancing. I so want to see Clark boogie. "Are you asking me on a date?" Lana asks, as if it's the most surprising thing on this or any other world. Clark says he's asking her to have some fun with him. Lana moves her mouth in about a hundred directions and says it's a little unexpected. She's got that same little razor-sharp overtooth thing happening as Clark. She says they really have to study. Clark says that when Lana gets all serious, her nose crinkles up. "It's really sexy," he says, smiling. I've studied the tape and I see no crinkle. Lana gulps and tries not to move her nose in any arousing way. Who knew Clark was a nostril fetishist? Long look exchanged. Lana turns and looks this way and that, trying to examine her own nose, but dammit, it's too close. Clark watches her ass as she goes.
Clark joins the study group. Lana sits down, bending forward in her peasant blouse, but if it's a cleavage contest between her and Chloe, she's really got no chance. Clark sits, turning the chair around so that the back of it hits the table, and straddles the thing. Because he's just that cool. Pete nudges Clark in greeting. "You guys want to go to a bar?" Clark asks. Proving that this is a true TV fantasy, all of them say they have to study and refuse to go drinking. This high school feels like it's in Utah, except even Mormons cut loose once in a while. Clark says this is no fun, and says that the beers will be his treat. When I went to Seattle, they had "Olympia" beer, and here in Texas we've got "Lone Star." What kind of regional beer do they have in Kansas? "Twisted Dorothy Beer: It'll Kick Your Ass, In Toto." Pete asks when Clark came into all this money. "Since I decided there's no percentage in playing poverty," Clark says. Wuh? Chloe offers to get herself a refill, and Clark some decaf. Lana gives her an assist. When they leave, Pete shrugs and smiles. Clark stares at Chloe and Lana at the counter. "Did you know that Chloe has a birthmark on her cheek?" he asks Pete. "No, she doesn't," Pete says absently. "Not that cheek," Clark says. Pete looks up. Because we need clarification and closure on that remark, we zoom in on Chloe's ass. She's wearing a floral dress. Pete asks if Clark is doing what he thinks Clark's doing. Clark just smiles. Pete says that's Chloe Clark is scoping. "Not just Chloe," Clark says. Shot of Lana and Chloe standing side by side. Pete waves his hand over Clark's eyes as if that thought had never occurred to him. Clark asks Pete out again. Pete says the test is half their grade. "Right now I need to do this." I liked it better when Pete was full of incorrigible insouciance. Clark tells Pete to call him when he gets through with Boring 101, and walks out. Ha ha. The joke's on you, Clark! He was actually studying "The Producers Threw Me a Bone for One Episode, But Now It's Back to the Shadows with Me 2033." Pete looks after Clark. Chloe and Lana turn to look, too, not knowing the humiliations that have been visited upon their birthmarks.