Sarah sits outside with the shell-shocked kids. "Please don't think we're all like that. I'm not like that." What "we"? Twentysomethings on MTV? White people? What? People is people, people.
Back inside, Cynthia asks from her perch on the couch, "Why does she let you talk to her like that?" Good question, and I like the subtext: Cyn would never let Flora talk to her like that. Flora, on a sick roll, yells, "Because she knows I'm right. I want to punch her." I loathe Flora. Mantra! Cyn says, "You just went totally off on her. You threatened her! I would NEVER..." Flora, somehow fueled by this outspoken rationality, says, "I'm gonna kick her ass! Those kids aren't even her friends! She wants to bring every homeless person she meets here!" Okay, WTF? Flora's mad because Sarah cares about kids and the less fortunate? I guess if she were screwing her boss, or extending herself for non-altruistic reasons, Flora could admire that. Flora? I hate you. Sarah, still sitting outside with the kids and one of the skate-shop guys, says, "I don't respect her because of the way she treats my friends, because of the way she treats guys. I won't stand for that." The little kids look confused. Dude, they're like ten! How could they begin to understand the whoring mess that is Flora? Leave them out of it. Take them to get ice cream or something. A sad flute plays. Oh boy. In a sit-down, Sarah relays, "My feelings are hurt." Well, Sarah, this isn't exactly all about you. The kids? Remember?
Cynthia has a business lunch with Landon. She's nervous. No one in her family has ever owned anything, let alone a business. Landon, co-opting your slang since 1995, asks, "Are they freaking?" Cyn says they are "tripping." Which is what all the cool kids said in 1995, or "back in the day." More blah blah blah I-feel-that-I'll-lose-if-I-don't-try-cakes. No one cares.
Now we're back in the kitchen for a Ramp Fight, which means the bitchier roomies try to gang up on Sarah, and fail. Melissa gets all high and mighty, saying, "Don't tell people where we live, don't bring people you just met over to the house, don't build ramps at twelve in the morning." Nag, nag, nag! God, mom! You never let me do ANYTHING! Sarah tries to argue that they were building the ramp at ten at night, not twelve, but all of those hairs are already split. In a sit-down, Melissa, mom from hell, says, "Sarah thinks the way she lives her life is the best way to live it. She doesn't care if she lives with six other people." Well, GOOD FOR HER! What do you want people to do, tiptoe around and ask your permission every time they want to do something? FUCK THAT! Having consideration for other people is one thing; having to defer to their wishes because they're skeeved out by a certain TYPE of activity or person is quite another. Didn't (Hail!) Cesar bring a bunch of his drunken homies over late at night? Glass house, meet stones. Melissa (god, won't she EVER shut up?) elaborates, "This is Miami, not Osh Kosh Wisconsin." Thank you, amateur cartographer. Sarah, who's keeping her cool better than I am, says, "Look, I'm not going out of my way to piss you guys off, I'm just gonna be me, like I've always been." A chorus of voices meets her, saying, "You can't!" Yes she can! She can and she will! Sarah says, "Oh god," and wipes her eyes tiredly. In a sit-down, she says she feels "sorry for them. They're so narrow-minded." Yeah, and they suck too.