Image credit: Greg Gayne/Fox
I'M AFRAID OF AMERICANS Because nothing says "patriotic good times" like three men huddled on a milk crate
Where did the Epic Fail begin? It's a Chicken or Egg? scenario really, but let's just start with Nick's "Idea Notebook." You see, he and Schmidt had co-invented something called Real Apps, which was basically a less compact, less useful Swiss Army knife that you affix to your smart phone. (No comment on how Nick couldn't even get authorized to buy a smart phone before Russell entered the picture.) Beyond the fact that the term "gentleman's shiv" is an oxymoron and the absurdity of attaching an open blade to something you stick in your pocket, the title -- Schmidt's contribution -- was also a problem. As Russell immediately realized, it sounded like "Relapse." To my reckoning, that only helped this cockamamie invention. To really appreciate this kind of tomfoolery, being under the influence is exactly what you need.
And under the influence they were. Russell arrived at the loft, where Nick met him with a plate of cheese slices, a mouthful of Aladdin quotes, and a free lesson in DIY plumbing. After some Schmidt snappishness, the real party began. By which I mean... True American. After a few hours, Russell was "trashed -- in a trash bag," Cece had arrived, Schmidt was wearing only a towel and wrist bindings, Winston had mellowed significantly, and Nick was doing everything in his power to stop himself from kissing his roommate's boyfriend. Things went south when Russell gave Winston a truly suspect piece of career advice (more on that later). It wasn't the advice that bothered Jess so much as the insidious "No Girls Allowed"-type tree house bond developing between her man and her boys.
By morning light, the honeymoon was over. Not only was an apple-picking trip suspended, Jess and Russell were fighting. Making things worse, Russell was fending off Nick's "Idea Notebook" offerings via a Geoffrey-Arend-in-Garden-State-style presentation featuring Nick and Schmidt in their Sunday best -- by which I mean mismatched plaid and cheap tweed (Nick) and a tailored suit that approached sharkskin shininess (Schmidt). I would be remiss not to mention that before their "pitch" to Russell, Schmidt and Nick had their own meeting. The seriousness with which they took this craptastic idea was awesome in and of itself, including when Schmidt told Nick in objection to the shoddy prototype, "I'm not going to get Winklevossed because of your sloppiness."
Needless to say, the pitch was a catastrophe. No number of $3 words could make hungover Russell remember why the guys had sounded so brilliant the night before. Even as Schmidt was used-car-salesman smiling through the doomed presentation, Nick began bugging out about "Real Apps'" unfortunate pronunciation. And that wasn't even the low point -- nope, that was when Russell got stabbed. Stabbed! Again, I feel it incumbent upon me to advise any children (or particularly stupid adults) reading this recap to not fasten knives, or corn-on-the-cob spears, to their phones.
Long story short, it was all an accident, which made things better... not at all. Russell left with a trail of blood gushing behind him. Before the stitches had settled, Jess was already at Russell's Rich Old White Man mansion -- not to apologize, mind you, but to yell at him for judging her lifestyle. As stated in the lead, Russell is unflappable. And Jess is adorable. So, with a good, old-fashioned Spice Girls reference (see below), the tension was broken. They never really determined who won the argument, but I think we can all agree that Jess did. I mean, just look at Russell. And that's without mentioning how he smells like strong coffee and going to see a man about a horse.
NEXT: I drink your milkshake!