Back to the Hodeses. Isabel declares that she wants to model. Celia tells her to get an eating disorder and they'll talk about it. Isabel demands a ride back to school, and Celia tells her to run there -- then maybe she won't get approached by strangers to model plus-size clothes. Isabel stomps off, and Celia catches up with Nancy and moves on to interrogating her, asking if the call was from a guy. Nancy wearily dodges the question, and Celia clarifies that she hopes it was a dude -- she thinks it's about time Nancy started dating. She starts throwing out options from the neighbourhood, but Nancy rejects them as being too old, gross, or gay. Celia says that the options for women their age are limited, and instead of correcting her, Nancy asks how things are going with Dean. Celia, resigned, says that he's a loser, and built like a Cadbury Creme Egg covered in hair. Worst Easter ever. But, on the plus side, Dean is tidy and has a good job.
As far as Celia knows! In fact, Dean is in the process of wheeling a chair from his office, having been let go. He corrects the security guard who tries to stop him, saying that he bought the chair himself, but fortunately, in order to feel like a big man, the security guard can still demand Dean's parking pass back. As looky-loos watch, Dean calls everyone in the lobby "fucking fucker fucks!" Or something. The security guard tries to shut him up, but Dean will not be silent: "Cheap-ass corporate cocksucking cocks!" Dean bellows that he'll be filing a wrongful-termination suit, unleashing another torrent of profanity for good measure. The security guard gets in Dean's face again, so Dean turns on him, saying he knows how the guy breaks into everyone's office at night and rubs his disgusting-- Well, that's all we hear, because Dean gets tasered in the neck for his troubles. As his former colleagues take cell-phone photos, Dean collapses on the lobby couch. I would totally be taking photos too, and so would you.
At school, Shane tries to go to the bathroom, but some big bruiser keeps him from going to the urinals. As he dances back and forth, a couple of wags by the sinks talk about who's done what (handjobs are no big deal, apparently). Neither of these commentators seem willing to believe that Shane has had any sexual experience, since he can't even find someone to eat lunch with. Shane takes off in distress.
Nancy has been provided some excellent Canadian ID -- a Quebec driver's license and a SIN card (that's the Canadian equivalent of a Social Security card, y'all) in the name of Lacy LaPlante. "Why not just call me 'Mary Jane Dealer'?" complains Nancy. Conrad says that, if anything, they'll think she's a stripper. I mean, honestly. No one Nancy's age was named "Lacy" at birth. Anyway, Conrad tells her it'll be fine.