Cohen Kitchen: Sixth Time's Twice The Charm. Kirsten Cohen's soul is as empty as the glass of tomato juice in front of her, and so she fills the void with vodka. Seriously -- in the glass is seriously a splash or three of the red stuff at most, and then a hearty helping of spite Stoli. From the hall, Sandy yells a question about the paper, which sends his wife scurrying back to the fridge to hide the secret ingredient of her homemade V8. Sandy enters, asking whether he looks anything like Tony Blair. The answer is no. Tony Blair only dreams of having eyebrows that command that much respect. One wiggle, and he'd own France. "You have nicer hair," Kirsten answers correctly. "What are you drinking?" he asks. Kirsten mutters something about tomato juice and antioxidants. I'm curious as to why she couldn't just improvise with orange juice, rather than buying a suspicious new beverage that would raise flags as red as the fruit that spawned it. As Kirsten leans wearily against the counter, Sandy cheerfully suggests a weekend in Palm Springs. She stares to hedge, but is saved by the hellions: "You asked my opinion," Ryan defends himself, entering the kitchen. "I just really wanted you to agree with me, man," Seth sighs. He explains to the 'rents that he's debating whether to confess to Summer about his spring break scandal in Miami. Kirsten wonders why, exactly, Seth would want to share this with Summer. Kirsten and Sandy are so chill. My parents would be like, "NEVER SPEAK AGAIN OF THE LICKING." Seth pretends that his conscience is gnawing at him; Ryan adds that the nationally televised aspect of Seth's indiscretion makes it more urgent to tell the truth. "Believe me, when you start hiding things, that's when the trouble starts," Sandy says wisely, not realizing that his verbal arrows are piercing the spot where Kirsten's soul would be, were it not crawling down a bottle of Smirnoff right about now. Although maybe guilt penetrates booze fogs, because she does look like she's about to puke into her tomato-tini.
Ryan and Seth buzz off to school, and then something incongruous happens: Sandy says, "Well, there goes the weekend." Unless he thinks Seth's telling Summer is going to keep them chained to the house while monitoring the aftermath of the explosion, then I think the editors must have had to chop part of the scene for time, but couldn't do it in a way that the dialogue flowed. I'm thinking maybe the missing part is Seth talking about his comic launch on Saturday, which would bone their Palm Springs plan -- and sensibly prompt both Sandy's sentence and Kirsten's reply: she grudgingly offers to take Monday off so that they can drive to the resort on Sunday. "You're right. We need this," she says heavily, crossing to put her glass in the sink without rinsing it out. She's an amateur boozehound. After she leaves, Sandy stares thoughtfully at the glass, then picks it up and sniffs it. From the expression on his face, he whiffs her secret, and I don't mean the kind that's pH balanced for a woman. I was always told vodka doesn't have a smell, and I just believed it without actually paying attention to whether that's true. ["Me too -- I thought that was the whole reason alcoholics favour it." -- Wing Chun] So when I saw this scene I went and stuck my nose in the bottle of Skyy that's in my freezer. Couldn't smell a thing. Either Sandy has an overdeveloped nose, I have an underdeveloped one -- or Kirsten is drinking some seriously skanky well vodka that belongs only in a plastic bottle.