Heather talks about how everyone else in the house was egging Becky on. She says, "Everyone was all, 'Yeah, Madonna, you better watch out!' and I was sayin', 'Look, Madonna ain't even thinkin' about you, you better take those damn things out.'" Okay. I love Heather again.
Montage of Becky at the party, drinkin', laughin' and skankin'. Not any serious skankin' -- she bends over and kisses people a lot. In her one-on-one, she says she hates it when she's at a bar or party looking to meet some guys and someone asks her something dumb like, "Tell us about your music." Yep, I'd hate that question too, especially if an honest reply would consist of, "I'm a no-talent hack with even less voice, by the way, you're getting in the way of my Cat on a Hot Tin Roof imitation." Becky says, "I'm always like, 'Get out of my way, there's a guy over there, and you're blocking my view!'" The camera cuts to a pixelated view of a guy's bare butt.
Heather once again becomes Nancy Reagan as she describes Becky crawling around, under or over tables in her teensy little outfit, and at this point, although I don't know, I would bet Heather is (a) a born-again Christian, (b) a virgin, or (c) has A Serious Boyfriend Whom She Is Planning on Marrying, because her behavior is endemic of all three. So much for all her talk before about "understanding different kinds of lives." Whatever.
Norman and Becky sit on the couch, having a party post-mortem as Andre blows some damn impressive smoke rings. It might be the NyQuil talking, but I think Andre would not be unattractive if he cut his hair, and perhaps gave up music. He's got a nice face. ["Yeah, for a girl." -- Wing Chun] Whoops. Okay, moment over.
Becky says mournfully, "I didn't meet any cute boys." Norman says, "I didn't either." Becky says, "And if I did, they weren't interested in me."
From upstairs we hear a bloodcurdling yell, perhaps as if someone from the cast had gained clairvoyance and seen where they'd all be in ten years. "AHHHHHHHHHH -- Get OUT!"
Becky calls, "Remember to use a condom!"
Cut upstairs. Kevin is hollerin' up a storm as Heather sits on his bed. Becky comes over and jumps on top of Eric.
Eric, in his one-on-one -- during which he wears another of his endless supply of gym-queen tank tops -- talks about lying on his bed peacefully until Becky leapt on him: "I was not rolling around with Becky, Becky was rollin' around with me." Cut to a shot of Becky lying behind Eric reading a book. I find it supremely ironic that Eric wears more clothes to bed -- a short-sleeved Jockey t-shirt and boxer shorts -- than we ever see him in during the day.