Back at the cabin, Bruce is in heaven: it's a Janet-free zone and his mancrush Tom is currently topless and flexing the ol' pecs as he chops wood. I don't blame Bruce; it is a little hard to believe Grant Show is closer to 50 than 40. We find out that Tom was a former scout, but beyond wood-chopping, not much stuck: "I can still light a fire, rig a sail, and whittle a tiny totem pole." Bruce: "You whittle?" Tom: "Oh, yeah. Big whittler." Never has a discussion about whittling sounded so porny. Bruce then apologizes about the Thompsons showing up, and Tom demonstrates a sort of big-heartedness with, "Don't worry about it. Wherever the party is, that's the party I'm at." And then -- oh, god, still more talk about the marriage and the swinging and the sex because these people spend more time yammering about it than doing it. Janet comes up right then with a Tupperware pitcher of fresh lemonade, and Tom's all, "Hey! What's cooking, good-looking?" Unaccustomed to such positive male attention, Janet replies, "What's cooking are ... my brownies. World-famous recipe." Tom continues his seduction of every biped in a ten-mile radius by cooing, "If they're anything like your lemonade, we're in for a treat." Then he asks, "You ever see a man split a log, Jan?" So thrown by the charm offensive is she that Janet doesn't even correct Tom before conceding she has not. Bruce invites her to enjoy the show, as he's off to tend to things in the house. And Janet does enjoy it.

Bruce goes inside and discovers that Trina's spiking the world-famous brownies with several kind buds. And far be it for me to correct such a knowledgeable hedonist as she, but I think she might have wanted to go for the extra oomph that comes from extracting the THC into butter, then using that for the cooking. An old roommate, who was like the Alton Brown of stoners, swore by the method. Bruce and Trina's amiable exchange comes to an end when a visibly tense Roger and Susan come back in. As Trina puts the brownies in the oven, you can practically see the thought bubble reading, "Oh, thank God for marijuana."

And after a particularly tense and silent dinner, everyone must be dying for dessert. Trina tries to liven up the conversation with, "Susan, those cabin journals are fascinating. There's one entry from 1948. All it says is, 'I'm as lonesome as Topaz.'" Susan explains, "That would be great-aunt Sally." Then she goes to get the brownies and the table erupts as everyone offers to go instead. Trina asks Bruce if he ever knew Aunt Sally. This is when it hits me that for these guys, 1948 is not a distant bygone era but part of their grade-school years, and we are, in fact, further removed from 1976 than they were from 1948. Excuse me, my mind is blown -- and I haven't even had any brownies. Anyway, Bruce briefly exposits on defiantly-single Aunt Sally, and Janet decides that now is a fine time to pick a fight with Trina. It turns out that Janet thinks Trina's the one who drew the unflattering graffiti. We cut to Bruce's eyes popping wide open, which I am going to take as flimsy proof that he's the one who did that, and Tom leans over to say, "You might want to help Susan with those brownies." Bruce leaves a cartoon puff of smoke in his speedy wake.