Business and pleasure — Jen pays a visit to Lauren’s office to become more acquainted with her new business partner. Lauren tells Jen she left her old life to do what she really loved, and here she is — although it’s not yet clear what she really loves besides money and olives.
Jen says it sounds a lot like her own mom, who left home to put herself through medical school and later, met her dad. Jen adds her mom was killed by a drunk driver when she was 10. Lauren says her family had something "similar happen."
Before anyone has a chance to cry, Lauren changes topics and says that with the footage of Britney Spears, the vintage films and her tranny escort interviews, they have a winner of a film. To celebrate, Lauren and Jen lean into each other hesitantly.
A shy smile forms on Jen’s lips as they silently hold their faces close to each other. After a moment, Lauren pulls away and clears her throat self-consciously. That’s how lesbians shake hands.
It’s Sunday afternoon, and Jen’s having the girls over to watch football. Before the others get there, Jen asks Sam what she should do about the business of making a sex film and the pleasure of having sex: Do they mix? Sam doesn’t see any reason why Jen can’t have both the money and the girl, as long as she doesn’t mind ending up in her own film.
"Of course, if you hadn’t turned me gay, I wouldn’t be telling you to take the girl at all," she adds, and pops a chip in her mouth. I dig Sam. Wise assery is sexy.
Crutch and Kris walk in with coffee and more food. Crutch tells Kris about the worst interview of her life — she talked the talk and walked the walk, and she even wore Sam’s stupid, itchy suit, but got nowhere.
Kris says simply, "Maybe they tried to make you into something that you’re not." Crutch sees the light: She should’ve just been herself. There’s an idea. She can bring her guitar to interviews and sing about her job history and salary requirements.
Meanwhile, where’s Chris? Kris doesn’t know, and says, "She left at dawn … grabbed her shotgun and said she needed to take care of something."
Jen replies, "There’s a clue in there somewhere." Maybe Chris found a way to deal with all those strays Kris has been bringing home.
Just be yourself — "Pull!" Chris shouts. A clay pigeon flies through the air and disappears, untouched, into a distant snowbank. "I was the number one skeet shooter in Hinckley, Ohio !" Chris mutters to herself disgustedly. She reloads.
She squeezes off another shot and misses again. Damn it.
Kris pulls up. In her best hillbilly voice, she calls to Chris to bag ‘em a skeet fer dinner. Chris lowers her voice and replies in kind, "Yes ma’am," in a backwoodsy way that scares me a little.
They kiss and smile. Chris goes back to her position, and with her Krissy-poo watching, blows the hell out of the next clay target because impressing a pretty woman is the reason we do anything. I could just be talking about myself, though.
Back at the Moonstruck offices, Crutch tries for a second interview, only this time, she’s wearing her hair down, a loose sweater and jeans. She throws some coffee and muffins on the manager’s desk.
Crutch: Zucchini muffin? They’re from your company.
Manager: I don’t do carbs.
Crutch: Probably best, ’cause that’s not actually a muffin. It’s more like a sponge. No one wants a zucchini sponge with walnuts for breakfast. It squishes.
He pokes it with a pencil. It springs back. The college-educated applicants may know the definition of "charge off," but they don’t know about zucchini sponges. Only someone who works in a coffee shop and literally sleeps with the muffins would know.