It was a mild October night when I watched the third episode of Community's third season. That's what I remember most -- the mildness. The feeling of warm and cold mixing together to make something new... something mild.

I sat on my couch taking swigs from a tall mild one while on my TV screen, the members of Greendale's best-looking, funniest -- and sometimes its cruelest -- study group were up to their usual wacky shenanigans, this time involving a classroom project to build a terrarium; you know, like a diorama, but for biologists. Anyway, the project wasn't going well. See, the group had decided to partner up amongst themselves, but each of them was experiencing a case of buyer's remorse about the other person they picked as a partner-in-biological-homework-crime.

The hot blonde number didn't want to spend all year hearing about the overbearing religious nut's new baby. The stacked brunette skirt didn't relish the thought about putting up with the serial texting-and-tweeting habits of the snarky egg with the stupid hair. The black guy and the brown guy were already spending so much time together between classes, study group, their new apartment and late-night picture show marathons, they needed to take a big time out from each other before they started blowing each other's schnozzles. And that crusty old timer couldn't stand being paired with the turtle-loving sap who had a wife, daughter and insulin shot waiting for him at home. Outside the night was mild, but onscreen the storm clouds were gathering. If these plugs didn't pull a switcheroo soon, someone was liable to be knocked flat while humming along to a little chin music.

I took another swig and laughed. This was funny stuff. Anytime you just stick these seven nutballs in a room together and just let 'em go off on each other, you could bet that the good times were gonna roll. Arguing over where each of them ranked on their invented popularity scale? That's comedy gold right there. (Pierce's unbridled joy at realizing he was finally more popular than someone was the cherry on the top of that ice cream sundae of laughter.) Meanwhile, that poor patsy Todd kept hanging on the edges of the frame, insisting he took no offense, all the while desperately looking to escape the loony bin he had wandered into, but trapped there like a gimpy bangtail at a horseshoe convention.

I was having such a bang-up time, I didn't even feel the urge to lam off whenever fake copper Chang turned up. Usually I like this chump about as much as a Bruno likes the ballet, but, credit where credit's due, the flatfoot was funny this time around, keeping up a gumshoe monologue while investigating a non-existent mystery before burning his own home down with his "evidence." And instead of getting a one-way ticket to the pokey, he was promoted to the school's number one house peeper. Talk about a clean sneak.

I finished my drink and the episode at the same time and sat back, satisfied. That was a damn fine cup of Community right there, the best the show has offered in Season 3 so far. All the usual suspects were on point and they got strong assists from new mugs like Todd and that ex-con biology teacher, who looks an awful lot like this hood I remember from down Baltimore way. Yes siree, a fine episode and a fine drink. Hey, Barkeep Harmon? Next week, I'll take another just like it.

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