Jill asks a dozen times if she's talking too much, she's not talking too much but it's been so long since anybody listened to her she feels like any amount of talking is too much talking; the wine is making her forget herself. They don't even care, Nancy and Scott, about the elves that they, Andy and Jill, are; Andy says this is allowed because they are "so cute," and Jill spits that they, Andy and Jill, are cute too, which means that Andy is cute, which means that Jill has noticed Andy is cute and on some level would like him to know that, and also to acknowledge it and in some way return the favor; she moves on to Nancy: "I do love her, she's my sister, but she's... Miserable. Am I talking too much? [still: no] A miserable cunt," in fact, she says daringly. That word.

"She plays the victim, but she always has time to put mascara on," Jill says, the truest and funniest explanation of Nancy Botwin I've ever heard, and the saddest. And Jill turns from a really unpleasant person with a minor in Endearingly Quirky, in this moment I would say, into a real person with probably very real grievances, and in fact the embodiment I shouldn't wonder of a lot of Nancy's entitlement shit and the price, or the Price, that you pay for it. Celia got warped so bad playing the mirror to that she's barely human anymore, and Peter's ex-wife was more than anything a victim of Nancy's ceaseless whirlwind of destruction and causing everybody to go abruptly crazy around her because she's amazing: she plays the victim, but she always has time to put mascara on.

But in fact, Jill will have you know, she is the real victim. And Andy is a victim too, because she, Nancy, doesn't appreciate him, Andy, and "you're cute" she says to him, stretching it out to "your cuteness," which is basically the same statement but less daring, less like a decision has been made and more just a statement of fact. Andy's cuteness is undervalued. A married woman can point that out; a victim can commiserate about that with her fellow victim, no problem.