Over street vendor shawarmas, Christina omits the part where the Dark Sexual Journey debacle is her fault, and tells Betty she has no choice but to tell the truth: "My dumb friend encouraged my futile crush, and then my roommate sidestepped about ten miles of my rudeness to create a perfect situation for us to spend time together, which I then fucked up by dorking out." She's pretty cute about it, though: "You should have seen his little face!" Yeah, I'm feeling that actually. When you're as incredibly sweet as Betty Suarez and myself, I'll be honest, that face of gratitude is like the finest grade of black tar heroin. I robbed my parents once, just so I could sweep in all Ty Pennington-style and refit their home in updated British Colonial, and don't you judge me. I fucking needed a hit.
Amanda appears, again out of nowhere, desperately trying to be a part of Betty's life no matter how classless Betty is determined to be: "Bring it! Who's gonna hate you?" Betty's like, "Fuck off. Why are you ... always around?" Amanda grins. "Betty, we're roomies now! This is what we do! I'm supposed to be all up in your biz. So why the brown face?" Betty looks for a second like she's thinking of making Amanda shawarma, because what? Christina busts out with the entire story, while Betty wigs at her, and Amanda's like, "So it's a musician!" Instead of fessing up, Betty goes, "Are you wearing my blouse?" Amanda tells her not to change the subject and says she should invite him to play at the afterparty. Once again, solving all the problems. Betty's like, "There isn't one?" And Amanda explains she's talking about the one she just invented, on the roof of their apartment building, which will also produce cash for her credit card bills, and then plinks Betty on the nose and disappears again, and Christina and Betty are like, "Actually, that's great. Maybe we should stop being assholes to Amanda and actually let her help."
Claire is totally stressing out because she is having delirium tremens and thus cannot pull it together to drink water out of a glass, so she bitches at Daniel for replacing their Fiji carbon footprint with glasses they have to fill themselves: "Why not put a hamster bottle in the corner and we can take turns sipping on it?" It's her delivery that saves it, because bottled water is just about as trashy at this point in history as prostitution or dealing cocaine, and she should know that, so this is a weird complaint in order to get us to the next plotpoint, which is that Connor is cutting costs. Claire says she recognizes the sorta gay gleam in his eye, and that he's always had a pattern of handing over all personal power to any boy in the room that he admires, just like when Alexis was Alex, and Daniel is like, "No, this is different because our love is real and whenever he looks at me I feel like I can believe in the stars again." She backs off a bit, but points out that her Wilhelmina stalking has provided the info that they're having secret meetings together, and maybe he should politely asks for his nuts back from Connor just long enough to figure out WTF that's about, and he screams "OUR LOVE IS REAL!" and stomps off, but he knows she's right, and mancrushes will always be his downfall.