JOY: Why on god's green earth does this show refuse to show me anybody doing reps that I would like to watch doing reps? Why is this our fate? Here's a list of people that could do reps at any point on the show: Wallace; Cliff...
HZ: Cliff would be hilarious. Cliff would do it in like a white undershirt and some massive blue boxers and black business socks. And a tie.
JOY: And that would be fine. I would like to watch Lilly Kane do some reps...
HZ: Oh, yeah. Alicia doing reps.
JOY: Oh hell yes. Weevil...
HZ: I don't think I'd want to see Weevil doing reps. It just doesn't seem like his thing, like he'd rather be alone whilst he's exercising.
JOY: Oh, OK, well whatever Weevil wants, obviously.
JOY: Has anyone ever puked on you in a romantic setting?
HZ: No.
JOY: Good. Hey, that's good.
HZ: Have they puked on you in a romantic setting?
JOY: Hell, no, I don't think so.
HZ: Don't think I've been puked on. A friend of mine at school puked in a jigsaw box at my house. That was unfortunate.
JOY: Ugh.
HZ: And two different friends puked in my mother's wellington boots.
JOY: What? On different occasions?
HZ: Yes.
JOY: Or like one per boot, at different times?
HZ: Different times.
JOY: Why? Why there?
HZ: I don't think you can really accurately find out from someone that is drunk enough to puke into a boot.
JOY: OK. Was the second person aware that the first person had done it at an earlier point? Was it a copycat puking? Or no?
HZ: I don't think, again, if you're in a state where you're going to puke in a boot, that you have the presence of mind to think, "Oh, I'll make it a callback."
JOY: OK, OK, OK. You might be surprised, Helen, what people are capable of.
JOY: Here's some stuff that we find out that I don't care about: she had her ex-boyfriend's name tattooed on her ass after two weeks, then she got it removed, which took six weeks, so that the guy that she's getting married to would never see it, and also one of them lost her cellphone last night, and there was a guy creeping around them at the Happy Horseshoe. Here is what we find out that I do care about: they went to an all-male revue called "Packaged Meat".
HZ: Ew.
JOY: Ha! Helen! Get on my level. This is so great. This is wonderful news.
HZ: I suppose, any of the genders in revue, I'm a little uncomfortable with them.
JOY: Well, I guess this is where you and I, our paths diverge, and I take the winding road into the strippergram forest, searching for elusive woodland hunks to pop out, being granted modesty by strategically-placed fig leaves and branches, and that's just not what you're after.
HZ: It's quite the bucolic scene of male nudity and moss and branches and things.
JOY: Come on!