Previously on Veronica Mars
There is going to be an article in the school newspaper.
You need to get rid of the marijuana before it comes out.
Karen has cancer. This botany professor gave her some seeds.
She won't just lose her job over this. She'll lose her insurance.
- Please don't say anything. - Well done, sister.
How many women like me have to be raped
before this administration listens to our demands?
Your room key? What if I drop in unexpectedly?
There's no one else. You ought to know that by now.
Is it too tough, beats the marker?
Instead of skipping meetings, why don't you just quit?
Focus on your philosophy full-time.
You read your Plato, drink your espresso,
eat all the cheese you want.
Football...
The systematic violation of the Geneva convention made into a sport.
I'm surprised the ASPCA doesn't protest.
Like these ladies.
"We go to Hearst. Go ahead and rape us"
Oh, boy.
Nudity.
If you have words written on yourself, it's not nudity.
It's political speech, taking control of one's body
to turn the objectifying male gaze back on itself.
Okay, no more college for you.
So, Logan, see you at the party?
Absolutely.
Bring your friend if you want.
New friends?
Yeah, from weight-lifting class.
Right, the only class you never miss.
So, what, you guys, like,
spot each other doing squat thrusts and stuff?
And have group sex in the showers.
What is this, jealous?
Oh, jealous would involve piano wire.
Oh. So what was that?
That was mild annoyance at the fact
that two gym buddies invite you to a party,
and you're there already.
But whenever I want to do something interesting, you're busy.
You mean interesting like some fossil wheezing through a novel?
First, Martin Amis isn't a fossil, and, second, yes, it's college.
we're supposed to expand our horizons past video games and binge drinking.
- My horizons go slightly beyond that. - Great.
So how about tonight we check out the art-major group show?
I'm busy?
No, really, I have a class till 10:00.
But you come by afterwards, we could write on ourselves,
get real... political.
That's what a girl likes to hear.
"Darling, do all the weird crap you like. Just don't be late for the booty call".
Really, how do you think that sounds?
I think it sounds romantic.
You also think weight lifting is an actual class.
Bye. I've got errands.
What are you doing?
The guy in the S.U.V. looks like he digs magic,
so I'm getting my doves.
I'm leaving. What do you think?
My shift ended half an hour ago, man.
Not till Ray-Ray gets here.
Screw you. I've been washing these...
Hey! No lip.
Work or it's back to Chino.
Hey, hey, hey!
I hit my boss once.
It wasn't quite worth the extra year. All right?
I guess I'll go wash some spoiled bitch's graduation gift from daddy, huh?
I'm not spoiled, and...
technically, it wasn't for graduation.
What about the bitch part?
That depends on who you ask.
How are you, Weevil? I haven't seen you.
Since that awkward arrested-for-murder incident?
Yeah, I remember.
You plea bargained down to assault?
And now I'm working at the car wash,
which, as it turns out, is not as fun as the song might sound.
Shoot.
Hello?
Sure. Okay.
And I'm being called in to see the dean of Hearst college.
The leopard didn't change her spots, I see.
- I wonder if Hearst knows about your... - Hey!
You think I'm paying you to harass the ladies?
Screw off again, and you're out on your ass, cholo.
- You got me? - Weevil, don't.
I got you. Now, what should I do with you, huh?
You should let me go so I can call your parole officer.
I didn't change my spots, either.
Nice seeing you, "V".
No, no, no, look.
I don't want to be one of those
mumbly college-radio emo-rocker guys who just...
who all they want to do is play their band's demo, you know,
though I should mention that my band really is quite good.
We're called Black Licorice, which is really cool
'cause it's dark and moody but, at the same time, it's candy.
So, you're pitching what, exactly?
A call-in show... Political affairs, cultural affairs,
whatever affairs.
Witty, smart, a little crazy.
It's like Jon Stewart meets "Crossfire"
if Jon Stewart didn't hate "Crossfire".
Hey, Trish, sorry, uh,
but you didn't see a three-ring binder in my room this morning?
No, what's wrong?
No, it's nothing. I'm just dead.
Dean O'Dell?
They said you wanted to see me.
We can download pictures
from the surface of the moons of Jupiter onto portable phones,
but we can't keep the air-conditioning in this office
running for more than a week at a time.
Is there some clue about the human predicament buried in that fact?
I'm a freshman.
I only recently figured out where Waldo was.
Please sit.
Ah!
Your kids?
My wife, my son from a previous marriage,
and my stepson.
Mrs. O'Dell was my grad student
back when you could do things like that.
So, miss Mars, it's rare when a freshman
makes quite as big a splash here as quickly as you have.
Well done.
I'm talking about the Free Press article,
the sorority exposé... Sharp piece of writing.
Thanks. Actually, the editor took some liberties.
You wrote that a source told you
that the house mother got her pot seeds
from a staff member here.
I want to know who said it and who that staffer was.
Actually, dean O'Dell, I think that's covered under...
Protection of sources... yes a fine thing for the New York Times,
but I want that name, so you can tell me
or I'll have you expelled from Hearst college.
A long time ago
We used to be friends, but I
Haven't thought of you lately at all.
Come on, now, sugar!
Bring it on, bring it on, yeah!
Just remember me when...
We used to be friends
A long time ago
We used to be friends
Veronica Mars 3x03 "Wichita Linebacker"
I wouldn't give dean O'Dell the name of my source.
He gave me a week to change my mind.
Piz, what are you doing here?
Hey, Veronica. Wallace told me you worked at the information desk.
You need some information? Okay, slugs have four noses.
That's what I'm offering today.
I actually need more like a favor.
My future mentor in radio... Knock on wood...
Has a boyfriend with a problem, and I'm trying to impress her.
Our football playbooks aren't supposed to leave the athletic complex,
but I missed a few meetings for a lecture.
I needed to catch up, so I had it in my bag.
We turn in each week's game plans and new plays on mondays.
If I don't have it, they're gonna use it as an excuse to yank my scholarship.
So, staying on the team is worth $500,
which is my fee.
That's what you charged me. You said it was your friends rate.
It was my friends-of-friends rate,
which I've now extended to friends of friends of friends.
Fine. I mean, I can't go to the cops. It would just be admitting I lost it
Or, worse, it was stolen.
Stolen, like, by another team?
Or by someone who wants him off the team.
She's talking about my position coach.
I was a big deal, started here as a freshman,
but then I tore my ACL end of last season,
and now I don't see much playing time.
As far as coach is concerned, I'm just a waste of a scholarship.
So, tell me about that night,
every place you could have lost it,
every person who could have taken it.
It was in my bag the whole time.
I didn't have time to study it. I never unzipped it until today.
- This bag? - Yeah.
I had it all night.
I met Trish, and we went to the art show at the student union.
My friend Larry had a few masterpieces on display.
Then I went back to my room, and my buddy Pop...
Brian Popovich... Stopped by to play "Guitar Hero".
Dude, that game rocks.
Yeah, it does.
Pop's my best friend from the team.
I was there the rest of the night.
The only other people I saw were...
these cheerleaders who dropped by.
They brought popcorn for pop.
Cheerleaders are clever that way.
I have no idea where it went, but
if I lose that scholarship...
Kurt, we'll figure out another way.
I got the whole Pell Grant thing worked out,
and your grades are great.
Maybe I don't want to get thrown off the team, you know?
Love of the game and all that.
I need that book.
Or a reasonable facsimile thereof?
Maybe it's easier to just get a new playbook for you to turn in.
Veronica Mars, modern college girl on the go.
Dick Casablancas, neolithic college boy on the sauce.
Okay.
Not sure what neolithic is, but, hey, I'm in college.
Maybe someone will teach me.
Actually, don't you have class now?
Intro econ with Logan, right?
- It was a walk. - What?
If the prof doesn't show within five minutes,
you're free to leave.
It's a college rule. Look it up.
No messages. Where's Logan?
Nailing other chicks.
Wow.
You look busy.
Probably tough with me around less.
All that stuff piling up?
Somewhat, yes.
I bet you'd be pretty psyched if I found someone who could help.
The level of psyched would depend on the someone.
Eli Navarro. Remember?
You mean Weevil? Veronica, please.
Dad, I'm serious.
I don't know... All those times I arrested him,
he never struck me as great secretary material.
Didn't he get busted for murder?
Assault.
See, so he's not even a very good murderer.
No way, Veronica.
You know how parole works.
If he's not employed by his next meeting, he goes back to jail.
I'm not running a charity, honey.
Don't make me do the stare.
Hello?
Yeah, that's us.
Hold on.
Hey, are you here?
Who is it?
Who's this?
Margaret Federbush?
Marguerite Federbush.
Just take a message.
I got to take a message.
All right.
She'll call back.
A shoe warehouse out east of grange...
Stock's been disappearing.
Manager thinks that one of the security guys
might be embezzling.
Delivery's coming in this afternoon,
so you're gonna stake the place out tonight.
You familiar with these things?
Yeah, toasters, right?
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
So the money shot we want is a security guy
loading shoes in the middle of the night. You got it?
I got it.
It turns out getting a new playbook
isn't as simple as running off a new copy.
According to Kurt,
they're printed out on athletic department stationery
with an I.D. number that changes
from week to week and player to player.
They said you guys had a trainer?
Allison Shivan totally thrashed my ankle, the little bitch.
That way.
World's slowest printer.
Thanks for meeting with me, coach.
Not a problem.
What's on your mind?
I just wanted to let you know that Sonoma made me an offer.
I mean you know I love it here, but they're giving me a full ride.
Wait a minute. We can work something out.
You know, I'll make room for you to stay, pop.
What is that? What's printing?
Oh, my god!
What in god's name?
Oh, I am so, just, um...
Uh, I am so... embarrassed.
It's a hazing thing,
and my sorority said I had to break in and steal a jock...
The little underwear, not, like, kidnap an athlete. God.
Um, so do you think maybe I could borrow one for an hour or two?
Collecting jocks, are we?
You're gonna have the most colorful disciplinary file in the freshman class.
How about you give me that name,
and we'll start over with a clean slate?
I said I'm not giving up the name.
And I said I'll have you expelled.
And I said I'm not giving up the name.
Is this how this works?
Dean O'Dell, I am sorry,
but I can't just sit out there any longer without speaking up.
Actually we were just finishing up.
It's insulting. You call us for a meeting,
and you strand us there with those lampoon jackasses?
- Did somebody say my name? - Oh, great.
Nice office. It's good to be the dean.
Or did you call us in here because you changed your mind,
and you will stop these idiots
from publishing their misogynistic rag?
Idiots? Where? Wait, us?
Stop publishing? Why?
Because it's offensive to women.
I'm sorry, did someone say "rag"?
I should really go.
You have two days, miss Mars.
Hey, you're a woman. Does this upset you?
No, thanks, except maybe the blonde in the middle.
A little, I guess.
The one in the middle. That's Claire.
Claire, they want to rape you. That's hate speech.
I meant more it says it's a humor magazine, but I'm not seeing it.
Whether the lampoon's content qualifies as humor is debatable.
Hearst's free-speech policy isn't.
That discussion was over yesterday. Today we are discussing this.
My wife and I went out last night, came back to our Volvo.
That was what the mechanic hypothesized was a bat of some sort.
$4,000 in damage.
- We didn't do that. - I agree. It's impossible.
Where would militant feminists get ahold of a softball bat?
Very funny, pig.
Funny you should use that word.
No, they framed us.
That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen.
We're an easy target, dean.
Hey.
So what am I on a scale of 1 to 10?
Um... 1.
7. 4?
Help me with some criteria.
Gentlemanliness.
I kind of resisted the impulse
to make the so-called booty call last night.
What?
Just the other day, my dad was saying
I had a thing for trying to reform unreformable bad boys.
What does that have to do with me?
I'm reformable, good, and a man.
Dick said the class was a walk.
You could have gone to the art thing.
Wait, Dick said what?
It was a walk...
You know, the five-minute rule if the professor doesn't show.
Dick's idea of five minutes is, like, one.
Ask Madison Sinclair. The professor showed.
You mind showing me the notes?
Forget it.
You're hardly the first girl to be led astray by Dick.
Hey, so you up for something tonight?
Maybe Noam Chomsky's reading the Havana phone book somewhere.
I'm stuck at work tonight. Maybe you could drop by.
So a booty call in the library.
Maybe I just will.
Hey, have you seen Mac?
She and parker just left wearing workout stuff.
Maybe they're going to the stairmaster.
Hey, looking for me?
Am now.
So thanks to the stone-age printer
In the coach's office,
It doesn't look like stealing new pages is a viable plan.
However, there might be something to your theory on that coach, beacause
while I was snooping around the locker room,
I ran into him, and...
What's that?
I don't remember leaving you a really bad painting.
It's Larry.
Art show Larry?
Well, I told you we went out last year.
Yeah, but you didn't tell me he was stalking you.
I really thought he'd moved on.
"Seriously, drop that meathead. You know you're still my muse".
Meathead? I thought he liked me.
He more hates you.
Enough to steal his playbook?
You had it at the art show, right?
I just don't think it's the guard, man.
He don't feel like a thief.
Look, he reads comics.
He drives a V.W. Bug.
No, this is our guy.
Eli, that's the owner.
Not him, the truck. The driver.
I read the file. The guy's been there for years with a spotless record.
- Why would he... - Steal shoes?
He picked up a habit, a nasty one.
Check him out.
Scrawny guy, sniffles a lot, always eating candy...
Heroin.
And, here, check this out.
He's off-loading the truck.
Yeah, but... but check the difference.
Here he's straining, right?
Then here it's no problem.
- It's easygoing, like... - Like it's light.
Empty.
Eli, that's...
that's some fine detective work.
Yeah, man, I knew it.
Once I saw the guard, I was like, "this can't be the guy".
And then I was taking a look at the pictures.
Have you slept yet?
Not yet.
A couple lost their adult son a few years ago to a car accident.
Now they think their grandson is being abused by their daughter-in-law.
Think you can get a few hours' sleep and go back on stakeout?
I'll go right now if you need me to.
I like the hustle, but the kid's in school till 3:00.
What do you think?
Um...
feels kind of...
uh...
Let me guess. You're an art major.
Interested amateur.
It just looks like you're having muse trouble.
Yeah, like your muse isn't your muse anymore
because she dumped you...
for, like, a meathead.
Um, I don't know what you think that's about, but...
I'm busy, so...
Yeah, me too.
So let's cut the crap.
Did you steal Kurt's playbook, Larry?
There's something I can use, a book full of football plays.
Maybe if it got your romantic rival kicked off the team.
I see, so he can spend more time with Trish?
Great theory. You are clearly a genius.
If he's off the team, he loses his scholarship.
He's gone.
And Trish is alone and ready to cry
on your bony-ass, paint-spattered shoulder.
Look, whoever you are, I'm not a criminal mastermind.
I'm just a painter.
Yeah, well, so was Hitler.
Let me see your backpack.
It's on my chair. What's up?
Just had a little chat with our friend Larry...
Enormous tool, by the way.
Trish totally traded up.
- Uh, thanks. What's... - Sure.
Anyway, everything Larry touches is smeared with oil paint.
He's got motive and opportunity.
So all we need is a single smudge in the bag.
Come on, Larry, please be guilty.
You said Pop walked onto the Hearst football team, right?
So if you lost your scholarship, it could, theoretically, go to him?
Pop couldn't. I mean, he's my...
Then how did it get in there? You never opened the bag.
Even if he did he would know to just trash it.
There's no way we would prove it.
So we blackmail him. That's the beauty of blackmail.
If I call him and he shows, he's guilty.
Get him to confess on tape, we force him to take the fall.
Please, I've only done this a million times.
So, how did people blackmail each other before e-mail?
30 years ago, I'd be here all night
cutting letters from a magazine and getting glue everywhere.
Now it's just one button.
And I'm ready for my official boyfriend visit.
And last but not, by no means, least, Thorsten Veblen.
Enjoy.
Hey, it's me.
I don't think I'll be able to make it tonight...
Come on, do it. Come on.
...'cause it looks like I'm getting lucky.
Hey, I'll see you tomorrow, babe.
Now, here's a moral dilemma.
You have a cellphone tracker
Which cost your dad hundreds of dollars.
You went through the trouble
of activating your gps chip in your boyfriend's phone,
so is it a waste of your dad's hard-earned money and your time
If you don't use it?
Hey, guys, hey. Good to see you guys. How are you?
Looking good. Looking good.
Angela, that is a sharp-looking jacket. Good to see you.
Yo, we're running low on vodka.
Can you do something about it?
Whoo-Hoo! Oh, nice!
That's what I like to see, everybody having a good time.
And you, my friend,
appear to be in the proverbial catbird seat.
Is that what they're calling the toilet these days?
'Cause that's what I think I'm in.
What are you doing here?
I was about to ask you the same question.
First, let's start out with where exactly here is.
My room. Mercer. Mercer Hayes.
Just Veronica.
So this is why you stood me up?
Are you playing, or is your seat... It's free.
Unlike me, apparently.
Veronica, it's not like I promised.
Wait, how did you find me?
Easy, I just followed the pungent smell of money going to waste.
So, what was it, a bug, a tracer?
Relax, I just traced your phone.
Can you maybe move this outside?
Hey, m-M-Mercer,
You got a spread on this weekend's game?
I d-D-D-Do.
You must hate when people do that. It's us by four.
Yeah, so if you don't mind.
You know, as adorable as it is when you do it to criminals,
the surveillance thing is starting to bug.
You said you'd come by.
Might come by.
And then on your message I heard all this partying,
and I wanted to know what was going on.
While I appreciate your interest, Big Brother...
Wow, a "1984" reference.
Did you read that in weight lifting?
You know, your dad was half right.
You have a thing for bad boys, but...
you don't want to reform them.
You just get off on judging them.
Which reminds me...
Can I borrow your copy of "101 brooding comments"?
I only have the cliffs notes.
Look, I got to run, so to save you the trouble,
I'm surfing in Mexico with Dick and Mercer this weekend.
I'll fax you the coordinates
So you don't incur cell-tracking charges,
And I'll keep a journal of my bad thoughts
In case you want to stick my face in a cage of rats when I get back.
Sorry, "1984" is the only book I read.
The most tender place in my heart
Is for strangers
I know it's unkind
But my own blood is much too dangerous
I got fired off a job today.
What? What hap...
Weevil?
I sent him on surveillance the other night.
He did great, really great.
I sent him on another one last night,
a child-abuse case.
A couple's son died in a crash, and they suspect
the daughter-In-Law's hitting their grandson, so they want custody.
What did he do?
Weevil finds out it's not the daughter-in-law who hit the kid,
it's the new boyfriend.
- So Weevil... - Hit the new boyfriend.
Repeatedly.
The daughter-in-law realized what he was doing there.
Lawyers got involved,
The grandparents lost their chance. I lost the job
and my chance to protect the kid from further abuse.
Oh, my god.
Dad, it won't happen again.
He really needs the work.
So do I, honey.
He's got to go.
So, is he mad?
Actually...
...I asked if I could be the one to talk to you.
He said he has to let you go.
It's not personal.
He likes you. He said you're a good...
Don't sugarcoat it, all right? I get it.
I'd fire me.
Man, I just...
I really dug this stuff, you know?
I actually thought I was okay at it.
I'm really sorry, Weevil.
It's all right. Listen uh...
do you know anybody else who's hiring ex-cons,
because if I don't get a job in a week,
I'm going back to the joint.
I wish I did.
But, actually, if you can still borrow tools from your uncle,
I can get you two grand to fix the dean's car.
Can I check that out?
Guilty conscience, eh?
No, actually, somebody told me
I needed to come down here and check it out.
Me. I left you the message.
You. So, what's this about?
You said that you knew I'd done something wrong.
That sound in your head, Pop,
It is the beating of this hideous heart!
But, seriously, I'm giving you the chance to come clean.
I know what you did to Kurt.
There's no sense trying to deny it.
Good. You're doing great.
Now we just need to figure out
how you can set things straight with Kurt.
I mean, I assume you trashed it, so...
no, I've still got it.
You do? Yeah.
Do you want me to give it to you?
Well, yeah, that would be a good start.
I mean, I don't really get the third degree.
It's just a lousy sociology assignment.
I didn't think it would be that big of a deal.
Wait.
So when you broke into Kurt's bag, you were stealing homework?
I was behind, and I thought
it's not like either of us would get caught, so...
when you swiped this, did you see a playbook in his bag?
Yeah, which is actually against the rules, but Kurt's cool.
And I was stealing his homework.
What time did you stop playing "Guitar Hero" that night?
I don't know, 1:00-Ish?
Whenever his girl showed up and kicked me out.
Trish?
Veronica! Guess who just got his own radio show?
Me.
I do feel like you had something to do with it, though...
You know, you helping the boss's boyfriend.
Well, it's a good thing you got the show
because I'm about to make Trish real unhappy.
Trish, did you talk to Kurt yet?
No, what's up?
My boyfriend has a weight-lifting class,
and I was meeting him by the stadium, and I saw Kurt.
I think he turned himself in.
What makes you think...
Coach Fry had him running the stadium,
yelling like a maniac about him losing the playbook
and how he's gonna be running the stadium steps every day.
You were right, Trish. That guy really has it in for Kurt.
But he didn't get kicked off?
I'd say getting kicked off would have been a bargain.
30 minutes... That should be about right...
30 minutes for Trish to come apart at the seams.
What is she doing in there?
Redecorating?
I took Kurt's playbook.
You don't say.
And now it's gone, and if I don't find it,
Kurt is gonna keep getting tortured.
Well, the good news is I lied about that.
You wanted your boyfriend to lose his scholarship
just so, what, you two could spend more time together?
No.
I wanted him off so he wouldn't be miserable.
That coach treats him like a piece of meat.
Kurt... Kurt absolutely lived for that team.
And when he wrecked his knee for them,
how did they thank him?
They made his life hell.
Trish, you can't quit for him.
We need to get that book back.
Fine. But it's gone, and I have no idea where it could be.
Think about it. We know who has it.
Where's the playbook, Larry?
Get off me, you dumb goon!
Where's the playbook, Larry? Where's the playbook?
You're entering a world of pain, Larry.
It... It's under the couch.
Cool. Let's go.
Uh, I don't think it's cool, actually.
I saw him sniffing around Mercer's casino sports book
checking the spread on saturday's game.
Sounds like pretty good odds, huh?
Your roomie swipes a playbook
from his ex-Girlfriend's meathead new boyfriend,
so why not pass it along to the other team
and then bet the farm against Hearst?
You gave Sonoma state the playbook?
Larry was in on it, too.
No one will know it was you, Kurt.
Just turn in your pages tomorrow like everyone else.
And just let the team get their asses kicked?
After what they did to you? What do you owe them?
I guess you don't know me that well.
I can't believe you got so much done that fast.
Well, only one of those dents is serious.
The windows and paint will take another day or so.
It's not so bad.
So, hey, the dean's a pal of yours?
You actually made friends with somebody?
Actually, he wants me expelled.
That sounds more like it. I didn't figure him to be so uptight.
He'd outlaw women wearing pants.
Why would you say that?
I figured with the cool car and the badass tunes,
he'd be a cool guy.
Badass tunes?
This was in the cd player.
Okay, so here's the deal.
You can go ahead and expel me
because I'm not giving up the name,
or we can drop the whole thing and I can make your problem
with the lilith house and the lampoon and the car go away.
So you can make all this go away.
You a big fan of The Transplants?
I don't know what that is.
It's a band. Your son knows.
I even read they had a show the other night. Did he go?
He's 15. He's not allowed.
I think he did anyway.
I think he took your car and snuck out, blasting his cd.
Then, when he dented it,
knowing you'd murder him if you found out,
he trashed it to make it look like feminists did it.
See, this dent is way too deep.
A baseball bat couldn't have done that.
And there was paint chipped off on the inside.
And I'm betting if you check your garage,
you'll find you have a can of spray paint that matches the graffiti.
I see.
So I guess we're even.
Actually, you still owe me 'cause I got your car fixed for free.
For free? By whom?
By the hard-working and responsible young man
you are going to hire to fill this maintenance position.
I wrote his name and number on there.
He's expecting your call.
Hey, Mercer, you pack your shark repellent?
My what?
Veronica, right?
Ooh, do not eat that. Trust me.
And what about sharks?
Watch out for them in the water.
You're going on a surf trip, right?
Mexico?
Right, Mexico.
Yeah, well, no one said anything about surfing,
but, um, yeah, I'll get you a piñata.
Now, maybe people would say
they'd never install a tracking device
in their significant other's car,
but I think that's only because they don't know how.
Hey, Trish, did Kurt talk to you?
Kurt's gone.
He packed his car and headed back to Kansas.
They yanked his scholarship.
So he told them about the playbook?
He said he owed it to his teammates.
I don't understand boys or football.
Me, neither.
But, hey, if guys like Kurt are that into it,
It can't be all bad, I guess.
So you broke up?
He said he needed some time to think.
I had all the grants lined up for him. He just...
He said he knows my heart was in the right place.
He just can't get over what I did.
I think I blew it, Veronica.
I went momentarily crazy.
And it's gonna cost me the guy I love.
So, I'll let that be my defense,
a case of momentarily crazy,
because when you think about it,
no one wants to know what college boys do with themselves in Mexico.
So, we'll just put this behind us for now.
Yes.
Goodbye.
Peace in our time.
Better?
Much.
If the eight e-mail reminders I've received are correct,
It's time for the premier of Piz's radio show.
...and, finally,
congratulations to our football team,
who outlasted Sonoma state this afternoon
in a 24-17 scorcher.
Now stay tuned for "But we were just talking".
Looks like larry and his stuttering roommate
Really are starving artists now.
Our inaugural episode is devoted
To my personal favorite amendment, old number one.
Our guests... The heads of the lilith house
and the editors of the hearst lampoon.
You can actually hear the smiles.
All right, let's flip a coin, see who goes first.
And it's the head of a white, slave-owning patriarch,
which means we'll go with the gents.
The problem is simple.
Feminists aren't funny.
Should I wait for the rim shot, or can I respond?
Can you say "rim shot" on the radio?
Please. If I say mr. Hartman here is an idiot, that's one thing.
But I say he's an idiot and should be strung up and beaten to death.
Is that different? I mean, do words matter anymore?
She makes a good point. I mean think about it.
This may not be
Burning-Movie-Theater-Dangerous speech, but it is...
You bastards.
- You bastards! - Uh, we'll be right back.
You said you'd do it, and you did.
It was Claire.
They raped Claire...
"The blonde in the middle".
Are you happy? Are you happy now?
Hi.
I'm looking into Jack London and mercury poisoning.
Third floor, aisle nine.
Is this the help desk?
'Cause I need a little help.
Let me guess. You have this pathologically suspicious girlfriend,
and you hope maybe there's a guidebook?
No, it's more like, uh...
...what's beyond pathological?
I'm sorry, Logan.
I spent my formative years watching people
while they lied to, cheated on, and betrayed each other.
So the trust thing,
It doesn't come naturally.
But I'm trying to act unnaturally. I swear.
So there's that.
I thought you were in Mexico.
Yeah, well, us bad boys usually love Mexico, but...
I was feeling a little reformed.
And I don't even think Mercer surfs.
And I always feel bad about those poor donkeys.
Are you free this weekend?
There's a film festival...
Incomprehensible foreign movies of three-plus hours.
Is this the help desk?
It sounds nice.
But let's find you that guidebook,
Which I think is on the dark, lonely top floor.
[Transcript: Raceman/Sync: BLue]
[Resync: Dest/www.forom.com]