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The Dark Time

Murderball. Dean's being abused by the ruffians on the court, while Andy's making the acquaintance of Sprague Grayden, a.k.a. "Denise." Denise has giant hoop earrings and says her father was a boxer, which means she's either a drug dealer or the token white girl in a competitive urban dance troupe. It appears that she wouldn't spit on Andy if he were on fire, but as she leaves, she inexplicably gives him her address and tells him to pick her up at 10 PM. I don't know about you guys, but my guess is that this time, Andy allowing himself to be led by his dick is going to turn out really positively.

Over at Grow House 3.0, the moving in continues apace, as does the moving out. Isabelle and her rolly suitcase pass by Heylia and Vaneeta and their tubs of weed, and they politely introduce each other, and just like last week, I worry about the structural integrity of the universe. Remember how awesome it was when Isabelle and Shane joined forces? Imagine Isabelle and Heylia. Isabelle wishes them luck with their operation, and after she passes, Vaneeta finally recognizes her as the Huskaroos girl. "She look thinner in person," Heylia says. "You think they pad her for that?" Celia, passing by, assures her they don't have to pad Isabelle for anything. This. This is the show I want to see. These four women running Aguatecture. And Sanjay could be their gay assistant. It'd be just like Designing Women. Anyway, Celia passes by Marvin (Marvin's still working for them?) and recognizes her as "the crazy bitch who drowned our weed." "Take it easy," Celia assures, "I'm on yo' side now." Oh, Celia. Continuing the parade of tertiary characters, in walk Sanjay and Clinique. She's pregnant with Sanjay's baby, if you recall, and he's begging her to hear him out. "Aint nothin' to say, faggot, 'cept send money." That's our Clinique. Sanjay suggests maybe they get married. And that's our Sanjay.

Doug's still spending his nights sleeping at his office, which makes it easier for Sullivan to sneak in and menace him in the middle of the night. Seems someone stole the giant, gaudy neon-lined cross from the front of the Absolute Truth Ministries, and seeing as it's worth $80,000, Sullivan wants to know where Doug stashed it. Doug's typically not forthcoming, so Sullivan takes his golf club and smashes the hell out of a blown-glass bong Doug has on his desk. He calls Doug pathetic and stalks out, promising that this ain't over. Doug says he'll send Sullivan a bill for the bong, then laments that "everyone's taxes are gonna smell like bong water now."

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