Ilana tries to recover from a case of FOMO inspired by Abbi's nose ring.
Abbi kicks off this week’s episode by showing off her new nose ring to Ilana, who subsequently suffers from a nasty case of FOMO. As she tells Abbi, “I thought you were just going to a boring white people dinner!”
For those who are able to successfully avoid the internet’s many acronym offerings, FOMO stands for Fear of Missing Out. You have FOMO when you scroll through your Instagram feed on Friday night and see all your friends out partying together, or when your best friend calls from France to tell you about how great of a time she’s having. Ilana has it when Abbi goes to the bathroom without her (this didn’t actually happen, but it’s probably true).
This launches a whole evening of Ilana trying to recover from her FOMO, which is cured only by party-hopping with Abbi. But the evening’s selection isn’t great, so Ilana starts ranking the get-togethers on a scale of 1 to 10. Going with that, I’m ranking the evening’s best moments on a scale of 1 to 10 depending on how ridiculous they are, with 1 being something tame (like smoking a joint in bed) and 10 being something as outrageous as Abbi overdosing on weed and frolicking through Brooklyn with an oversize stuffed animal. On that note, let’s begin:
Ilana discovers the conference room
Employees usually find out where the conference room is at their office on the first day of work. Not Ilana. She notices everyone in her office is missing and finds them gathered around a big table in a foreign room. “What is this place?” she asks, shocked. Her boss goes on to explain that it’s the conference room where they have meetings everyday—meetings that Ilana, unsurprisingly, doesn’t attend. Her discovery would be outlandish enough, but what she announces next really makes the scene: “I do have a horrible emergency,” she said. “So my best friend Abbi is going to a hot party tonight and now I gotta leave.”
Absurdity level: 3—ridiculous, sure, but it’s also the kind of classic Ilana behavior we’ve become accustomed to.
Trey hosts a disappointing party
Abbi brings Ilana along to her boss’ party… which isn’t really much of a party at all. The few attendees wear work-out clothes and sit around a coffee table decorated with bowls of Clif and Luna Bars—because those are what you think of when you think party munchies.
Absurdity level: 4, mostly thanks to Trey’s suggestion that they watch Celebrity Apprentice on DVD. The rest of the party, with its fridge stocked full of Skinnygirl knock-offs, is more sad than anything.
Lincoln’s dance moves
What’s better than good dancers? Bad dancers who think they are good dancers. Lincoln proves he belongs to the latter camp when he greets Abbi and Ilana by showing off his version of the worm, which is basically just him moving his arms around. The perpetually chill Lincoln does not get visibly excited about much, but here he is, grinning ear-to-ear about his “ability” to do “the worm.” Even better: His next act involves pec jumps, a move he can actually execute to the surprise (and delight) of Abbi and Ilana.
Absurdity level: 7. He’s so clueless. So clueless.
Abbi has a tapeworm—or at least that’s what she told Trey so she could leave his party early. Instead of letting her be though, Trey calls Abbi later on in the night to check in and she accidentally picks up. She handles the situation by throwing the phone at her “doctor”—a.k.a. a very drunk, unconvincing Lincoln—who tells Trey they’re going to make the tapeworm “get gone.” You know, classic medical jargon.
Absurdity level: 8, because tapeworms are extremely low on the list of Acceptable Excuses that Come to Mind When Trying to Get Out of Something.
Val comes to life
Broad City has been branching into the surreal lately with things like Abbi’s life-size stuffed animal friend and Ilana’s descent into underground Chinatown, but nothing can top Abbi’s transformation into Val: The beginning of the scene eerily resembles Rosemary’s Baby, with Ilana entering a world completely foreign to her (kind of like the conference room, but weirder). Abbi transforms so seamlessly into a ’50s-era classic crooner that I’m half-convinced she should always be Val—and I’m sure Ilana, who finds out she’s considered Val’s main squeeze, would agree.
Absurdity level: Perfect 10.