(If I have to explain that that stands for Good Christian Bitches, and later – briefly – Good Christian Belles,
please refer to IMDB, then return to this post.)
3. Leslie Bibb’s character starts working at a Hooters clone after she finally admits defeat and moves back to Dallas with her mother (Annie Potts!). Then, she shows up to the Hoedown Throwdown dressed like a confused ice-dancing burlesque performer. Curiously, no one seems to notice or find her high tassel-to-fabric ratio at all disturbing.5. Chenoweth gets her comeuppance when Leslie Bibb stands up in church and – in a very public
forum that I’m not sure is allowed – loudly condemns her and her friends’ actions in a sort of confession-type deal. But she does it in a vague way that doesn’t seem as petty as it truly is, you know? Like, maybe she didn't just air everyone’s dirty laundry in public and then say something to the effect of “And if you think you’re gonna run me outta town, well, think again,” which cannot be something that happens in real life…ever.
“You’re walking like a Disney witch.”
According to Jess, the fact that Nick starts walking like Maleficent after she tackles him is a surefire sign he needs to go to the doctor. Just like Disney witches, however, our lost boy Nick doesn’t have health insurance.
“One of the reasons I moved to Los Angeles was to get closer to whales and record them.”
Nick, who is hopped up on what appear to be a mix of extra-strength Midol, Oxycontin, a dash of Vicodin, and direction to act like he’s in a K-hole, offers this excuse as one of a list of reasons why he is unavailable to get an ultrasound on a growth in his thyroid the next day.
“It's because he refuses to wear a blue tooth. You know I got him one for his birthday and he gave it back to me for Hanukkah.”
If only Nick hadn’t returned Schmidt’s present, the group wouldn’t now be waiting to hear if their friend has throat cancer or not.
“My funeral is my time to shine. I want the girls to think ‘I wish I brought Nick Miller to orgasm.’”
Well, anyone who’s ever contemplated their own funeral has surely come up with a list of absurd things they'd like to see happen. I, for one, would like a violinist to perform “Eleanor Rigby” acoustically while my loved ones recap my life in the form of Onion headlines. For example: "Area Woman Thinks Every Rock Opera Is About Her Teen Angst." Go ahead; share your fakakta funeral requests. This is a safe space.
The reason Nick finds himself suffering from extreme hypothermia the night before his possible cancer diagnosis? He tells Jess about his fear of leaping without looking, which of course means a smash cut to him skinny dipping.
The good news: Nick doesn’t have cancer, just a cyst or something he doesn’t really care about because it’s not cancer. The bad news: he uses a Ziploc bag as a wallet, and his friends have to pay for his ultrasound. The worse news: Schmidt has tons of wallet chains we can all borrow.
