Troy’s frantically gasped “Why? Why? WHYYYY?” as he glimpsed Abed’s broken $299 collector’s DVD of The Dark Knight is pretty much what fans of Greendale Community College have been thinking the past two weeks. Yes, a fortnight has passed since NBC Britta’ed their midseason schedule by benching our beloved Community. I suppose that’s an incorrect usage, though, since we all know “to Britta” means to make a small mistake, and the gaping maw now left in NBC’s lineup is anything but. Just look at last night’s 30 minutes of effortless surrealism, “Foosball and Nocturnal Vigilantism,” and you’ll see a series in its creative prime.
On the surface, the dual premises of “Foosball and Nocturnal Vigilantism” were sitcom standbys that Abed would have perceived in a heartbeat: one, a resolving-a-childhood-trauma-storyline, and the other, to use Troy’s own words, about “secretly replacing a broken, priceless item.”
The weekend was nigh. Everyone was asking one another what they’d be doing over their two day respite — or in Pierce’s case, who he’d be doing. (The question, Pierce, is not who, but when.) Britta would be volunteering at an animal hospital to pay off the cost of the Lasik surgery for her one-eyed cat, since a monocle would have been entirely too pretentious. Leonard was prepping another eloquent, erudite video shoot in which he’d continue his series of frozen pizza reviews. And Troy and Abed would be planted in front of their television, glued to their new $299 special collector’s edition DVD of The Dark Knight and all the Christian Bale throat-rasping and unnecessary Christopher Nolan camera spinning that comes with it. In fact, Mr. Bale even recorded a special greeting, “Abed is Batman now,” thus making the passing of the cowl official.
Annie, unwittingly playing the Harley Quinn to Abed’s Caped Crusader, accidentally stepped on the priceless DVD, while trying to dust, and broke it. Not even Troy’s humming of the “Abed and Britta In a Cabin in the Woods” radio Muzak could comfort him, his hums mixed with sobs. He knew Abed would never buy it if they recorded Annie’s gravelly Bale-isms as a substitute, though anyone who’s ever listened to an audio commentary knows that “This scene was a special challenge to all involved” is the usual gist. A cover-up was the only solution, and Troy had to be complicit to protect his new female roommate from Abed’s wrath.
So when Abed laid out his viewing order — “Original version, Directors Cut, Directors Cut with commentary, and original version cooldown” — Troy was more than happy to humor him. But upon their return to Apartment 303, their bachelor pad, gasp, had been robbed! Let’s face it, though. If Annie really wanted to make this “robbery” convincing, she should have declared more missing to the cops than just the DVD and her oddly ornate piece of Hebrew-themed jewelry. A crime of such peculiar minutia could only mean one thing: an inside job. And an inside job could only mean one thing: The thief was their landlord, Rick. Since Rick dressed up as the Joker for Halloween, there really was no other conceivable suspect. Luckily, Abed knew what he’d have to do — or rather who he’d have to become — to solve the crime, and he had a Dreamatorium to make it happen.
NEXT: Abed becomes the darkest of knights, and some taunting Teutons goad Jeff into a foosball smackdown