For a moment there, it seemed like Russell would be too skillful at True American, and indeed at life, for his own good. True American, it turned out, would be the most inscrutable and wonderful drinking game one could possibly imagine (and I think you’ll agree with me that that’s a pretty high bar to reach). In short, Russell’s ability to be amazing and adept at everything including hangovers and ER-level violence nearly proved a stumbling block for his relationship with Jess. On a related note, is there a hashtag for #sitcomproblems? In the end, Russell’s awesomeness was also the very reason he might have real staying power. That and the fact that his only other real obstacle is Nick, who — despite his intense, subconscious love for Jess (at least if you ask Jake Johnson) — is too busy man-crushing to drive Fancyman away.
So Jess was concerned that she was spending all her time at Russell’s house and he was spending none at hers. I know that I, as a late-20-something, would definitely prefer to spend my time in my overcrowded apartment instead of at my insanely handsome boyfriend’s mansion. Totally makes sense! On a more basic level, though, Jess wanted to go home because she had run out of underpants and had taken to wearing Russell’s boxer briefs. It was a lot sexier than it sounds if you ignore the sagging undercarriage and concentrate on Jess whispering about underwear in Russell’s ear. Fact: Anything is sexier when whispered into Dermot Mulroney’s ear.
Jess also optimistically thought the guys might miss her. She was mistaken, of course. Not only was Schmidt still up to no Gouda with Cece (“we burned through a lot of ideas last night — went deep into the stables”), the boys were also completely occupied with their newly invented Best. Drinking. Game. Ever: True American. It involved elements of Candy Land (soon to be a major motion picture starring Adam Sandler!), verbal abuse, pretending the floor was lava, rampant lying, desecrating the memory of U.S. presidents, shotgunning beers, and drinking most of a bottle of Jack. The only thing missing was a flying ping pong ball and fire.
But back to Jess, who got it in her head (thanks, Cece!) that her relationship with Russell wasn’t legit because he hadn’t spent time at the loft. She knew there would be pitfalls to inviting Russell over because, let’s face it, her roommates are weirdos, so she asked the fellas to be “normal” when Russell visited. For Schmidt, that meant not having an ongoing prestige pissing contest with Russell, tackling him to check out his suit labels, or snarking about his sushi tastes (“Little Wussell wants an avo-cwado roll!”. For Winston, that meant not being an Angry and/or Menacing Black Man. And for Nick, that meant hiding his massive man crush, a.k.a. not eating off Russell’s plate or checking out Russell from the next urinal. (As happens at least once a week on this show, there’s no way I can possibly recap the urinal interaction. Suffice it to say, it was a moment of virtuoso awkwardness from Jake Johnson). In case you hadn’t figured it out already, they all failed to honor Jess’s request. Miserably.
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