As Nick walked Jess around the apartment to assuage her fears, she admitted she had been his cooler. But! She had a plan. A plan that involved yelling out dead presidents’ names, climbing on furniture, and consuming tremendous amounts of alcohol. Yes, my friends, it was time for the triumphant return of True American! Only this time, there was a twist designed explicitly to get Nick laid: Stripping! Or, as Jess put it, “Clinton rules: Pick your intern.” It was truly an inspired addition to the already all-over-the-place game. (Bonus pop culture points for tonight’s game: Abu Nazir even got a name check!)
While Nick and Schmidt plied Holly with a series of increasingly traumatic come-ons (see Dotables), Daisy and Winston drank themselves silly under a table. She tried to coach him on how to hit on Holly, but the best he could come up with was, “You’re a swell kinda gal. … Hey girl, what yo’ name is? What that thang do?” (Schmidt would be so proud of those last two!)
At that point, Holly was still mostly clothed (beginner’s luck?), but Schmidt was down to his skivvies (and happily so — all the better to show off his six-pack), Jess was rocking a bra and some crinolines, and Nick was mostly naked except for his lady coat. Schmidt took exception to Nick’s dodging of the rules, but Jess (who had been appointed president, I guess) proposed solving the squabble by sending two players “behind the Iron Curtain” (a.k.a. door to one of the rooms) for “clear and present tongue.” The plan was meant to get Nick and Holly canoodling, but of course it backfired when Holly got confused by the selection process (in no small part because of Schmidt), and Jess and Nick ended up as the pair exiled to makeout-land.
With Jess and Nick behind closed doors until they presented photographic proof, Schmidt made his move. He pulled out the big guns, telling Holly his Cece sob story. (The crowning quote: “Sometimes I hear her name when the wind blows. “Cece!” You know I left something behind in the desert that day — my faith in true love and my future biracial child.”) But he had laid his heartbreak on a little too thick, and she said, “You kinda lost me there — it’s more depressing than sad.” So Schmidt backpedaled furiously, claiming he was over Cece, but she was still in love with him. He pleaded, “Can you help me move on, Holly? Can you heal my pain?” Ding ding! Magic words!
At this very moment, Cece barged in to check on Jess after receiving no less than a dozen frantic texts about “The Calabasas Scratcher.” She even brought along some poor sap, with whom she was having a first date, to prove this wasn’t a premeditated flake-out. Alas, the half-naked hook-up scene at the loft, not to mention by Schmidt’s insistence that Cece claim she had feelings for him (so he could seal the deal with Holly), made it difficult for Cece’s date to feel wanted. And, it should be noted, Cece did say she loved Schmidt. That she loves him. (Was it me, or was there a spark of connection between them at this moment?) So Cece, and her date, went home alone — and now Schmidt owes her big-time. I, for one, hope he pays her back in sexytimes involving many flavors of chut-i-ney.
While all this was happening, Daisy helped Winston get his groove back. After which, and much to his surprise, she revealed she wasn’t really engaged. She just wore the ring so sleazeballs wouldn’t hit on her. Though this news tripped him up at first, he regained his cool and went in for the kiss she clearly wanted. It was short and sweet. When they leaned out, she said flatly, “C-minus, you kiss like a damn bitch.” Of course she was just messing with him. The girl’s got spunk. Here’s hoping she sticks around.
NEXT PAGE: “Suck it up and French a little”