Josh finds his way down to Sparky's homeroom. Sweet fancy Moses, this storyline can't end soon enough. And for some reason, the lighting's has an overwhelming peachy cast. And it's all shadowy and moody. Josh asks Sparky if he's got the answers to the fifth-period math quiz. Sparky says he doesn't. Actually, Sparky's working on a memo for the CO at a radar station at the Arctic Circle. Josh asks whether Sparky's ever been there (Sparky has), and what it's like. Sparky: "Well, small-town feel. Nicest people you'll ever meet. And a terrific symphony if you like classical music with a pops orchestra on Sunday nights." Josh: "Really?" Heh. I'm sure I must have mentioned this before, but Professor Frink would no doubt want me to mention that he spent four months working at a monitoring station in Alert, considerably farther north than the Arctic Circle -- actually, it was less than 500 miles from the North Pole. He spent three of those months in twenty-four-hour darkness, never mind the -50 Celsius weather. I would have fed myself to a polar bear if I had to endure that. Anyway, with a winter population of 130 people, Alert was rather more inhabited than your average radar station. Not enough for a symphony, mind you, but they did have a military radio station, where they made the mistake of letting Frink be a DJ. He got in trouble with the CO up there for using the airwaves to rouse rabbles. Had he been an actual member of the military instead of an unbridled engineering student he would have been in a lot more serious trouble. He brought back some video he shot and there is the cutest footage of these adorable Arctic foxes. He fed them cookies. This was one of the funnest times of his life, to hear him tell it. I wouldn't have lasted three days between the cold and the darkness. (You know, in my defense, I do know that was an especially pointless digression, but I swear, this grade-school drama storyline is alternately boring me silly and irritating me, so I have to amuse myself somehow. Plus, every time I get an email from some whiner telling me to leave my "opinions and other junk out of my reviews" I resolve to put more in, 'cause I'm just perverse like that. Get a clue about this site, already.)
Anyway, Josh figures out that there's no symphony and no people at the Arctic Circle. Sparky: "On the other hand, Sunday night does last six months." Josh awkwardly launches into trying to correct Sparky's impression of Donna, much to Sparky's continued puzzlement. He finally tells Sparky that if he wanted to ask her out, she'd probably say yes. God, this is painful. Sparky: "I'm new here, and I want to do well, and I don't want to get in between anything." Good thinking. Stay the hell away from these two and their grade-school, pigtail-pulling...relationship, for lack of a better word. Josh, clueless as ever: "'In between anything'?" Sparky sighs heavily, and spells it out for him: "I have an aide, who, in my life, I haven't talked about as much as you've talked about Donna in our entire relationship, yours and mine, which is a cumulative total of seven minutes old." Josh is Deputy Denial and assures Sparky that he doesn't like Donna that way: "Tell me your aide's name; I'll ask her out, we'll double." Sparky: "Chief Petty Officer Harold Wendell." Josh: "I got the fuzzy end of that lollipop." Heh. Yeah, you wish. Also: Is that what the kids are calling it these days? Sparky: "I don't know, Wendell's not cute cute, but he's so funny." He makes quotation mark gestures around the first "cute," but not the crooked fingers kind, the two fingers straight-up kind. Not much better. Josh says they're done talking about Donna...except of course, he's not: "Whose full name is Donnatella, by the way...Mom's Italian, Dad's Irish." Boss's a dumb-ass. Josh leaves and Sparky just kind of snorts to himself. If the light were any peachier in here, I'd think Frank Bielec was working for the show now.