Alice's flophouse â€” Alice is cleaning up after Helena while Jenny gives a report on the Hunt for Stacey:
Jenny: So I found an S. Merkin in Van Nuys, which of course is where that vagina wig's gonna live.
Alice: Vagina wig?
Jenny: Merkin. Stacey Merkin.
Alice: Oh, right.
By the way, Jenny, I forgot to thank you: You're bringin' merkin back. Well done.
Jenny: So I go to the house, and I'm standing out front, and I'm like, "Yo, Stacey! C'mere and say it to my f—in' face, you f—in' vagina."
But of course it was the wrong S. Merkin. It was a "little, like 90-year-old Korean lady." Jenny proceeds to do a Korean "accent" that would no doubt make Rosie O'Donnell giggle.
Jenny defends her stalkerish actions, saying the review was "fundamentally dishonest."
Alice: Oh, yeah. I mean, yeah. I mean, lesbians love to eat their own. It's true.
I think Ilene Chaiken and I just bonded for a moment there. Except I don't give little speeches about how besieged I am, perhaps because I don't have such a convenient mouthpiece in the form of one Ms. Schecter:
Jenny: The thing is, the Vagina's girlfriend was molested, and now she's like this perfect saint, which is awesome, and, you know, I was abused, and I'm like this f—ed-up nitwit, but that's my experience. And that's mine, and I don't know why she's slamming me for my own experience.
Alice: Right, I get it. I totally get it. I'm just saying I think you should let it go. It's a tiny magazine. I mean, who reads it?
Apparently the producers of this show are trying to address that lack of readership by mentioning the magazine at every opportunity.
But really, Jenny: You shouldn't care. Also, if Stacey Merkin were truly insightful, she'd be slamming you not because you're a f—ed-up nitwit but because you are once again wearing a doily. Where do you shop? Crochet Hut?
Alice shares her own big news:
Alice: I met Papi.
Jenny: NO! What happened?!
Mia Kirshner has found the key to her character and thus is now just yelling all her lines. It's â€” yes, I'm saying it again â€” adorable.
Alice says Papi is a "walking, living, breathing Lothario," but I think she has the wrong -o word there. I'd go with gigolo. Or, um, gigola? Gigolette? That's sorta what Jenny thinks, too, when Alice reveals that Papi slept with Helena the morning after she slept with Alice:
Jenny: She f—ed Helena right after she f—ed you? Your roommate? [whispering] That's so rude!
Alice: No, but that's her, that's Papi. 'Cause, like, relationships and her, they don't exist in the same universe.
More important, intelligence and Papi don't really seem to exist in the same universe. Or not as far as I can see, anyway. Let me get my special telescope that zeroes in on the Quantum Singularties of Machisma and the Castoff Moons of Ho.
Helena comes in, prompting Alice to whisper, "She doesn't know that I know." But Helena wouldn't care right now anyway: She's more interested in the bottle of Kahlua she's bought to help her cope with the fact that "my CV doesn't even get me in for a job as a receptionist."
Alice: What's a CV?
Helena: My rÃ©sumÃ©.
Alice looks so adorably confused when she asks that question. And I know it's not the same accent, but I'm now starting to hear Lizzy the Lezzy every time Helena laments her plight. Obviously something's making me giddy: I think it's the fizzy, untrammeled banter of this scene, not to mention the generally pitch-perfect tone of this episode so far.
Jenny wants to know why Helena is applying for receptionist jobs anyway. Helena says she would gladly do any job that "doesn't involve sex or touching insects." My face just went from "Yay, sex!" to "Eww, bugs." Yep, it's just another Sunday night.
Helena worries that if she doesn't find some gainful employment soon, she'll be stuck with Alice in her "sweet little one-bedroom." Alice takes her cue and tries to lay down the roommate rules:
Alice: OK, like I feel like this [stretching out her arms] would be your boundary of your space, so [watching as Helena tosses her shoes over the aforementioned boundary] anything in your space you're responsible for, and then this [turning around] would be, you know, my space. And anything in my space is mine. Um, which includes my office space, which, I'll kinda show you where that starts. [rolling Helena and her Kahlua away from the desk] This is my office space. My work space. And um, I'm tidy. I'm a tidy person and I like to keep this tidy. But then, you know, the kitchen would be our space, and I feel like the untidy person should abide by the tidy person's rules. So.
Alice. Come here.