And because she wasn't around for the beautiful nachos he had for breakfast -- or the beautiful episode of Tyra he watched when he woke up, or the beautiful vegetarian samosas some other beautiful girl just like Betty brought him earlier that beautiful evening, or the beautiful Japanese kicks he customized and bought online an hour ago, or the beautiful and courageous mullet of the girl at the copy shop yesterday when he was printing out the beautiful liner notes of his self-produced album -- this causes her to go completely retarded.

Jesse does a fairly decent job of performing Val Emmich's "Get On With It," a fabulous song and the lyrics of which Betty's apparently immune, and Betty's like, "So amazing! Especially now that we are in love!" Justin doesn't even have time to deal with Betty's crap, though, because he just spotted Ivanka Trump putting a burger in her purse, so he needs to notify Gossip Girl stat, and Betty's left with nobody to spooge all over about Jesse, Jesse, Jesse.

Marc's standing around panicked with his phone, and Amanda creeps up to guess that Betty's crush -- still fixating on it, note, because she's digging Betty right now which is all we have -- is the horrible old man in the sombrero. Marc's like, "A) That's her dad, and B) Me talk now." He complains about how Cliff won't call him back because somewhere in that mountain of flesh there's a broken heart that thinks Marc doesn't want to move in, but it's like, things are so good and he's so in love with Cliff right this second. Everybody's lives and hair products are in their rightful places, and everybody looks good, so this is like an attack on things, like a War on Happiness, and Amanda plays devil's advocate for a second before she spots cake and runs away without offering a word of advice. Marc drinks his beer sadly, really kind of broken up about it, and then spots this set dresser who sounds Australian and has intense pectorals that Michael Urie thinks is hot in real life even though he's pretty clonelike, and they start flirting. And as we learned from the Lesser Queer As Folk, whenever two men look into each other's eyes for more than half of one second, sodomy is the automatic result. CLIFF! GET YOUR HOT ASS UP HERE!