Onstage the opening band is like, "Ba-ba-ba-ba-banana! Ki-ki-ki-kiwi!" The penguin -- who has been joined by a headless bunny rabbit -- is an understudy of the headliners, whose lead singer is taking a "personal week" to deal with his hepatitis. Doug points out that the openers suck ba-ba-ba-balls and the understudy penguin gets wonderfully righteous: "Tell me about it! A song about fruit salad? Eff that stuff sideways. Eat a papaya does not rhyme with join the choir, okay?" Doug asks what the ZW's sing about, by way of contrast, and he's awesome some more: "Animals! Morality!"

(Niiice. Imagine Steve from Blue's Clues wearing a penguin suit and yelling at you about teaching children morals. Chills. I cannot believe I'm alone on this. Ultimate fantasy. That is my Denmark.)

"My Grandpop used to sing songs about this lamb," Doug relates, "Who offed his dad and shtupped his mom. And in the end, the lamb throws himself from an overpass to escape his sins." (Beat.) "Kind of like my Grandpop." Underpenguin is like, "Your backstory and Nancy's could be completely switched and it would make no difference, down to the jumping off overpasses. How come we now know more about you, Doug who barely qualifies as a person much less a series lead, than we do about the most beautiful woman in Puppetland?" Also: "The fuck kind of song is that."

Just kidding, the underpenguin says that this tale of Oedipal sheep is exactly the kind of morality he's talking about, and offers Doug a tiny pretzel. They are very stoned at this point, and very adorable in their stonedness, which is rare: "I like to lick the salt off a pretzel then I put them back in the bag and people eat them, they don't know I licked the salt off," Doug mutters and giggles, and the underpenguin is like, "People are stupid!" Like that's the cutest thing he ever heard. And somehow, given Nealon's otherworldly talents at making Doug somehow slightly more than the Masuka of this show, it kind of was.

Nancy waits for the doctor and calls Andy to process the WTF of everything. An old lady turns the TV back on and he tries to calm her down with his tone of voice, telling her the coast is clear without telling her: "Yeah, it's all good out here. Jovial atmosphere. I've made three friends, all bitten by the same spider. They're convinced they're gonna turn into superheroes. I haven't had the heart to tell them about sepsis." Inside, Nancy worries, but notes how small the picture was and hopes that it wasn't a national program.