Jeff and Shirley bond in a stellar foosball-centric episode of ‘Community’

By | December 2, 2011 at 10:58 am | No comments | feature slider, TV/Movies | Tags: , ,

Just gonna get right to it, you guys, because Dr. Zizmor!!! Ok, sorry. Back up for a second. The gang’s catching up in the student lounge, and TGIF! So what’s everybody up to this weekend? For Pierce, the question’s not what but who (no one), and for Britta, the answer is volunteering at an animal hospital (where, sadly, the animals are the patients). The doctor she volunteers for? Dr. Zizmor! Anyone from New York knows that Dr. Zizmor is the dermatologist who’s been running ads on the subway for pretty much ever. Only his name is Zizmor, which totally sounds like ZITSmore, which is just about the WORST name a dermatologist could have, because who would go to a dermatologist who gives you MORE ZITS? Amirite??? My money’s on the writer of that particular line being from the Big Apple. Wow, that was a lot. And we haven’t even hit the opening credits yet. I’m sorry—we’ll make up time, I promise!

So, Dr. Zizmor (the vet, not the skin doctor) is letting Britta work off the cost of her cat’s one-eye Lasik surgery. (Cat monocles are pretentious, natch.) Foosball in the background. This seems important given the title of tonight’s episode. Which, oh, is “Foosball and Nocturnal Vigilantism.” Actually, the title makes this next part seem important, too: Abed and Troy will be spending their weekend watching a newly arrived limited-edition DVD of The Dark Knight that includes an autograph and personalized message of up to four words from Christian Bale (“Abed is Batman now. –Christian Bale).

Nick Kroll is one of the foosers. And Kroll and Co.’s raucous carrying-on is getting to Jeff, who just wants to sit around razzing his friends in peace. Turns out Jeff is Clarence Thadeus Foos (not really), and his grandfather Fletcher Morton Foos (nope) created the game with the sole purpose of having the loudest, dumbest thing happen (i.e. the foos players’ Germanic chanting and dancing). Now that it has, the game can conclude. Quick thinking, Jeff!

Only, the foosers aren’t having it. They’ll stop playing only if Jeff can score a point on them. And guess what: Winger is a ringer! (Just kidding, he loses. I really wanted to rhyme right there. Anyway, he’s not good.)

Meanwhile, back at Tranbed’s (anyone with a better suggestion, please, help), OCD Annie can’t stop cleaning. Only, while she’s doing it, she also can’t help stepping on The Dark Knight. Ruh-oh. I’m honestly afraid for her. Troy hyperventilates. The disc is irreplaceably awesome! Annie won’t be able to think her way out of this with her thinkyness: Abed knows everything. Whatever plan she’s concocting, it’ll never work.

Poor, defeated Jeff is practicing his foos skills. Turns out he used to love it a lot. As a lonely, dadless kid, it was the perfect almost-sport. But then he started getting bullied. (Just like when he dressed up as a girl on Halloween. Take heed, kid Winger: All the best people were bullied. And all the worst ones peak in high school.) Jeff couldn’t take the abuse, so he stopped playing. Shirley thinks that was the right decision: Foosball is a vile game for vile people. (Huh?) Only, guess what. SHIRLEY’S a ringer! Seriously, she’s got mad awesome foosball skills. Meanwhile…

Tranbed’s been robbed!!! (No they haven’t.)

Jeff wants Shirley to help him defeat the evil Powerkrauts (ha!), but Shirley isn’t having it: The German-ish-iards aren’t evil people who are good at foosball, they’re good at foosball because they’re evil. (Seriously, Shirley, what the hell). But Jeff’s hangdog look is too much for her, and she agrees to train him. Turns out the key to foosball is tapping into your darkness. Turns out also that Jeff gets vaguely turned on when Shirley calls him “turkey.”

Back at the not-actually-burglarized apartment, Annie is a terrible liar. (Nana was a Rockette, etc., etc.) The familiar-looking cop appreciates the color for the report, but he’s pretty sure the DVD and Nana’s necklace are lost and gone forever. Hey wait—didn’t the cop once pretend to shoot a guy in front of Annie to teach her about gun safety? (And this is a show you bench, NBC? At least the fans have it right.) Not so fast, copper. Abed thinks this thing smacks of an inside job. It can mean only one thing: It was the landlord! And you know what that means? Thing-doing. And you know what thing-doing means? IT MEANS ABED IS BATMAN NOW!!! Time for some nocturnal vigilantism, people. (Annie confesses here; too late.)

Over at the Mexican joint where Jeff had his man date with the dean, he and Shirley are bonding over margs and foos. (Good band name. Somebody write it down.) Turns out Shirley had a lot of rage as a kid (a religious zealot with a perma-grin? You don’t say.). She needed a release, so she commanded the foos table at the Y (insert black-and-white flashback). This one time, she really, really let this skinny white boy have it. (Ruh-roh.) She jabbed the already crying As Yet Unidentified Skinny White Boy with the foos rods until he peed. (Oh yeah, she also told him, “I know your daddy ain’t around, or you wouldn’t play like a bitch.” Shir-LEY. Shame on you!!!)

Batman’s in the landlord’s apartment now. He demands to know where they (the DVDs) are, and Landlord says they (women’s shoes) are in the closet. But no worries, Annie brought a piece of the broken DVD to plant. (Annie and Shirley: How quickly the self-righteous have fallen.)

Foos ball rage-off! Shirley and Jeff play violently while making sex noises and then…cartoon! (Community, marry me.) Cartoons make everything better, and new BFFs Jeff and Shirley are united once again and ready to take on the Powerkrauts. No contest. Oh look, Britta and Pierce are back. And everything’s cool with Tranbed. And Jeff and Shirley are little kids again (adorbz).

Leonard’s frozen-pizza YouTube channel!!! (see below). More watchable than some of the shows on NBC that aren’t Community but get to stay on the air when Community doesn’t. Just for example.

Another fun one! Community’s been so consistently hitting it out of the park that I barely remember the horrendous start it got off to this season and shan’t speak of it again. But what did you guys think?

About the Author

Carla Sosenko

Carla Sosenko is a writer and editor from Brooklyn, N.Y. Her work has appeared in Marie Claire, Self, Jezebel, The Hairpin, The NY International Fringe Festival and some other places. She received her MFA in creative writing from Emerson College, where she majored in choppy sentences. Carla thanks you for reading her words and kindly asks you to read more of them at Follow her @carlasosenko. She thinks you rule.

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