Duncan has the disproportionately developed pectoralis majors of a former fat kid. I call this the Jeff Corwin syndrome -- hot, but with history. Kendall disrobes and asks Duncan to scratch her back, offering her very finely manicured nails for a return of the favor. What? When you talk all weird and "I've got an itch" like that, it makes it creepier than if you'd just said, "I'm a little low on cash and I'd like to do it with you in exchange for money. Whaddaya say?" Duncan's...intrigued? Scandalized? Into it?
Gia introduces Veronica to her little brother Rodney Goodman, who's apparently unaware of the softcore going on in the other room: he's totally focused on the thank-you notes for his recent birthday. This is the definition of "mental torment": writing thank-you notes while hot, half-naked teenage girls touch each other a few feet away. Veronica says hello, but Rodney just curls into himself like how people eat in jail. Gia: "He's a little weird, but sweet." That's the pot calling the kettle that, dude. Gia weirds out about whether she should or should not mix the two bowls of chips together, but she's not sure if that's too edgy and out-there, and she wants to belong, and then Rodney accidentally knocks a -- very fucking awesomely designed -- glass bowl of water and envelope-sponge onto the carpet, and then flips out. Gia seems to find it not that big a whoop, and Rodney starts rubbing at the white shag. Gia: "He's a little intense." Veronica snags a thank-you note, apparently as indifferent to the fact that this will likely cause Rodney to commit suicide as she is to Gia's Dick-endangered virtue, and we're at what, three for three, sample-wise.
Back in the den, the girls compare their half-naked bodies and touch each other and are half-naked, giggling and jumping around. Lord. Ratings rock. Veronica, being congenitally sneaky, finds Woody outside the room whispering, "Rodney! Your mother's going to be home soon, and I'm going to have to tell her about this. You know the rules!" Woody Goodman notices Veronica watching this effed-up scenario and jokes that they're not ogling, and then takes Rodney and the thank-you note stuff out of the room. Gia runs up asking if Veronica knows how to do dreadlocks. My heart weeps for you, V.
We rejoin Veronica in hell, girls nattering on and on about subjects like "Pizza Is So Great" and "One Time I Ate A Whole Pizza" and "Pizza Has One Thousand Carbs." Gia yells, "I think I just heard my mother!" and for a sec I think she's scared of her too, but it's, I guess, because of the big-ass bottle of liquor she's hiding in the couch. Gia then makes a funny face. Mrs. Goodman is, in fact, home, wearing another ugly-ass sweater-vest with shiny crap on it, and is putting her shoes in the shoe closet in the shoe place marked "Mother," I assume. Still creepy! Veronica comes out further from the den, and watches Woody notify his wife of the spilled water, in an intense and sketchy fashion. She stands before Rodney for a second, and then he walks out and she follows him into another room. Veronica looks worried and weirded out. Woody, alone, walks in the opposite direction, to another room, and then slams the door. ["Was it another room? I thought he was leaving the house out the front door." -- Wing Chun] Veronica jumps and looks bothered by all this. Me too. To sum up: Woody and his wife apparently sleep in separate rooms, Rodney's got some kind of Mom-induced OCD, she rules the house with an iron fist that brooks no water-spilling, and Gia is oblivious/implicated/exempt. I hate this family and I'm not even sure why.