Next thing we know, the boys have arrived at the door of "Gerard St. James's" tastefully appointed bungalow somewhere in the greater Los Angeles area, and when the gentleman of the house answers, Sam smirks, "You're still alive!" "And you're not Frank Jaffe," Sam continues as Gerard St. James's initially welcoming expression instantly snaps shut. Dean glides past Sam's accusatory manner to compliment Mr. St. James on the latter's most memorable screen performances, among them roles in Desert Soldier Number Four and Metalstorm: The Destruction Of Jared-Syn, but he really captures Mr. St. James's trust when he completely geeks out over Gerard's "turn as the tractor crash victim in Critters 3," so Mr. St. James invites them in for tea. No, really. Tea. Think about that for a moment, would you? "Why, that dirty old man!" Raoul shrieks. "I think I hate him!" Oh, be quiet, you. If those two suddenly appeared on your doorstep, you'd be offering them a whole hell of a lot more than tea. "Are you calling me a tramp?! You're calling me a tramp!" Hush. The freedom with which you dispense your lizardly affections happens to be one of your most endearing attributes. So I've heard. Everywhere. "Oh, you bitch!" In any event, and long story short, it turns out the producers of Hell Hazers II hired Gerard to fake "Frank Jaffe's" death on the set in order to stir up a little advance Intertubes buzz for the movie, as everything's all about the new media these days, don't you know. They were so successful, in fact, that people are already calling Gerard here "the new LonelyGirl." Dumb Dean of course has no idea who that is, and I should probably call him Smart Dean for being able to avoid that crap. The scene pretty much ends with Gerard inviting them to see him as "Willy in a dinner theater production of Salesman at Costa Mesa all next month." He hands Dean a flyer, noting, "You get a free pepper steak with the coupon!" Hee.
Suddenly, we're back on the set of Hell Hazers II, where the bimbo and one of the fratboys are running through a scene. Unfortunately, the sound guy's picking up a hellish amount of EVP through his headphones -- which he of course misinterprets as mere feedback -- so they're going to have to reshoot the whole thing. Before that happens, though, intrusive Gary Cole has another passive-aggressive script note for The Unctuous McG. "It's a great scene, really -- dynamite! But I still got a few -- not problems. Questions." "Like what?" The Unctuous McG snaps. "Well, for one thing," Gary Cole explains in magnificent Lumberghian tones, "the rules just aren't landing for me. Like, the kids do this 'Latin' chant, and that makes the ghosts show up?" The Unctuous McG is all, "...yeah?" "See, but if the ghosts are in Hell," Gary Cole counters, "how do they hear the chanting?" "I mean, what?" he continues. Smarmily. "Do they have super-hearing?" The Unctuous McG, utterly at a loss as to how to deal with the guy, all but begs "Marty," the writer, for an assist. Marty immediately offers to toss in an explainer. Gary Cole, however, is barely paying attention by this point, for his Bluetooth earphone's started beeping, and he excuses himself to take the call. You know, it's no fun at all to call him a douche when that's exactly what he's supposed to be.