Okay, Newbies, I will not bury the lede: Nadia the penis breaker was back! Lucky for Schmidt, she had moved on to Wilma Ramalama… or at least some random visibly ethnic guy who claimed to be That ’70s Show alum who supposedly devirginated Mandy Moore and/or Lohan and/or half of Hollywood from 1998-2010). Between Wilma, her lessons in butt drinking, and her starving-as-lethargic proclamation, “I so excited. I shake the thing that my mama gave me. YOLO!” it was a glorious episode. And Nadia was only the icing on the cake (that she refused to eat).
Speaking of cake, it was Cece’s birthday! Jess wanted to spend it as they always had: “We’re going to eat cake, we’re going to watch Clueless on VHS, and we’re going to try to make prom dresses out of towels.” Cece had other plans in mind. Instead of ogling Paul Rudd, she invited Jess to hit up da club with her and the model squad. (As Bianca put it, “We go party tonight, let dogs out, catch gypsy.”) Since the living, breathing hangers once told Jess she looked like “a monkey from a Russian cracker ad” (an ad I can show you thanks to the good folks at Fox), Jess tried extra-hard to glam up.
One semi-sheer top, a miniskirt, a pair of sexy cobalt stilettos, and a Jess-year’s worth of makeup later, she was rockin’ a “promising ballerina-turned-streetwalker” chic aesthetic. While Schmidt and Winston gave her last-minute tips on looking model-esque (“look sick, tired — altogether disengaged” / “really let your bones prop you up”), Nick wondered if she had shoe polish on her eyelids. Yes, ladies, that smokey eye you spent 45 minutes (and, oh, say, five years of your adolescence) perfecting? Some guys think it’s from you falling face-first into a shoeshine stand. Before Jess went out, she asked, “Is it totally obvious that I’m not wearing underwear? Because it should be!” Nick: “That makes two of us!”
Alas, the slutty get-up and the “shoe polish” eye makeup didn’t stop the models from spending the greater part of the night almost literally yelling at Jess to “Dance, monkey, dance!” Sick of it, Jess went on a tirade during which she claimed she was one-eighth Romanian (take that, racist Russian models!) and inadvertently called Cece dumb. Of course Cece heard this. After Jess totally biffed her apology and said she felt sorry for Cece (“It’s your birthday, and you won’t even eat cake!” #truth). Cece responded as you would — by slapping Jess in the boobs (a throwback to Cece’s seventh-grade slumber party, the last birthday they spent apart). Jess retaliated, and they spent the next 60 seconds smacking each other’s naughty pillows. Cece stormed away, grabbed vodka, and sternly told Nadia, “Tonight, I drink with mouth.”
Meanwhile, in what I can only assume is a nod to the Internet’s many “Nick Miller Turtle Face” comments, Nick considered purchasing a pet. He’d narrowed down his choices to Eastern Box and, my personal favorite, “near-sighted loner.” His turtle time was interrupted when Schmidt bought him a giant Linzer cookie. Just ’cause. Cue Nick weirdness. Long story short, Schmidt got pissed when Nick said he never thought about Schmidt. (Apparently the only man another real man is allowed to think is about is Jay Cutler.) Having been through years of emotional withholding from Nick, Winston knew Nick’s brush-off signaled something deeper. But he, too, had a bone to pick, starting with Nick’s refusal to reciprocate his bedtime “Good night.” Though Nick predictably grew defensive and shrunk farther inward, Winston blurted out, “That wasn’t a cookie, damn it! That was a piece of his heart.” Then he bid Nick a bitter “Good night.”
NEXT: New car hell