Apparently around dawn, Shane shoves Andy awake and tells him that everyone in his grade has gotten a handjob. Andy groggily congratulates him, asking how it was, but Shane clarifies that he means everyone except himself. Andy tells him not to worry about it, saying that when Shane wins the Pulitzer Prize, he'll be combing girls out of his moustache. Shane says he can't wait that long, and Andy gets a devilish look and tells Shane not to say Andy isn't a good uncle. Well, SHANE isn't going to say that.
Morning Chez Hodes. Celia is enjoying a mimosa when Dean comes in from the patio, with his briefcase, acting like he's going to work, babbling about the deposition he's going to take even as Celia turns on the answering machine to play a couple of messages from Dean's office, making it clear that he's been let go. Finally, Dean gives up, and says that he was the one to recommend that they downsize: "I gave my life to that firm!" Celia: "How could you do this to me?" Maybe she'd take it better if she knew he'd gone out in a blaze of bridge-burning glory, as Celia would under the same circumstances. You know, if she worked.
Heylia's. The lady of the house is cutting up limes (I think), complaining that Joseph hasn't called. Nancy asks whether he said he was going to, and Heylia says she told him to, and he said he didn't have the number, and Heylia said she was listed. She hasn't left the house for two days, and curses herself for being so pathetic. Nancy giggles that it's cute, and that if Joseph wasn't working for the destruction of the white race, she'd really be rooting for him and Heylia. Hee. Heylia distractedly says that he doesn't mean that stuff, and when Nancy's like, "...Okay," Heylia sighs that she just likes him. Nancy agrees that sometimes you just fall for the wrong person, touched by little things like his smell or the way he carries little packets of tissue in his pocket. Heylia surmises that Nancy is seeing someone, and Nancy makes like she's dating the sexagenarian neighbour Celia had recommended. Heylia says that at least Nancy will be getting some; even if Heylia does get further with Joseph, she won't get a leg over in "Allah knows how long." She adds, "Still, gives you a reason to get dressed in the morning."
And then, to a location with more disrobing than robing: an Asian massage parlour. Which Andy has taken Shane to. Of course. As they sit in the waiting room (with a straitlaced businessdude in a suit reading the Financial Times, hee), Shane asks what happens if the girl doesn't like him. Andy says that he gave her a nice big tip, so she will. Shane asks if he's "getting one" too, and Andy says that he has a date later: "Of course I'm getting one." He explains that it's impossible to stay cool when you're "backed up," and off the businessdude's dirty look, he cracks, "Nice wedding ring, by the way." A lovely, buxom Asian lady appears and asks who's next. Andy indicates Shane and says that it's his birthday. The comfort lady refuses to work on a little boy. Andy tries pleading that he's been saving his allowance, but when the practitioner sticks to her guns, Andy calls for Rhea, the madam. A little old lady in a velour tracksuit comes out, giving Andy a big hug. Andy tells Rhea that "Miss Saigon" is turning down work. Miss Saigon says that Shane's a little boy. Rhea prompts Andy to say that Shane's eighteen years old, and has a glandular problem, but Miss Saigon doesn't buy it. Rhea says that if her associate won't perform, there's nothing she could do: "Arthritis," she says, miming the signature motion. Andy's like, "What if--" "Gingivitis," she replies. Ha! Rhea takes off...and Shane starts bawling. Miss Saigon is moved, trying to shut him up by clowning like you would to a baby, but when she gets no results, she relents that she'll take care of him. Shane perks up in a hurry...