It’s official: the wedding of the millennium has it all. Friends, waffles, and work. Or waffles,friends, work. Doesn’t matter. In any case, THERE WILL BE A WAFFLE TOWER AT BESLIE’S WEDDING, preferably layered with whipped cream. And obviously each table will have its own extra whipped cream, and obviously there will be prizes at the bottom of each can, which together will form a set of clues and riddles, each more elaborate than the last, and get excited, future husband, I just planned our whole wedding.
I’m almost surprised that it took Ben so long to think of JJ’s, though I’m proud of him for knowing right away that it was Pawnee or bust with the wedding caterer. Plus, if he hadn’t at least vetted his other options, a piece of his heart would always have lingered somewhere else: in that delicate little dough pocket we call a calzone.
Theirs was a love story in the style of Taylor Swift: the breakup was inevitable. Food poisoning comes between Ben and his favorite treat, taking Ron and Chris down with him (breakups, man—everybody suffers). The calzones…betrayed him.
I’ve never really felt this kind of joy before.
There really needs to be some sort of Physical Comedy Emmy—awarded by Dick Van Dyke, natch—and these guys need to win it.
Since we all know that the first meal back after food poisoning must be truly epic, the guys celebrate their eventual recovery with a selection of JJ’s finest options–hence Ben’s realization that JJ should cater. Leslie thought she couldn’t love him more, but she was wrong. She loves him more when he comes with waffles, which I think is universally true for all humans in our lives.
Leslie’s been busy with her two best friends, Ann and Ann, each one more beautiful than the other, because things are getting pretty serious. Ann wants to have a baby. Didn’t she say she was “weird with kids” like a week ago? Zoe and Ivy are changing everything! And anyway, Ann’s only been dating herself for six weeks!
Leslie: If she were dating a guy for six weeks and they decided to have a kid, I’d be like, congratulations Ann—AND CHANNING TATUM. Because that is the only scenario that would make sense to me.
Leslie goes overboard in her quest to change Ann’s mind, but her heart is in the right place. She fully supports every woman’s right to create the family she wants; she just thinks Ann is giving up, and she wants her beautiful unicorn nurse/ stupid hot best friend to hold out hope for a guy. She’ll still get her multi-ethnic genius babies eventually. Ann is less convinced. She can’t be sure she’ll find a guy like Ben.
Tragically, Leslie and Ann are both heterosexual.
The sperm bank yields Sewage Joe frightening results Sewage Joe asking to buy some weed, so Leslie and Ann screen every donor they know. In stealth mode, under the cover of blogging (which is the PERFECT COVER for all stealthy activities). It’s the perfect opportunity to ask probing, important questions like “What’s your favorite season of Friends?”, but Dr. Harris is a jerk, Pistol Pete is too astute, and Howard Tuttleman is The Douche. Turns out Howard was once your average Semiotics major at Northwestern, but the line between his real personality and his radio personality has blurred. This is possibly the most wonderful backstory a character like The Douche could ever, ever have.
Leslie can’t get past his radio persona, so she embarrasses Ann by exposing her plans. To set things right, she embarrasses herself on The Douche’s show, apologizing to Ann for imposing her own dreams on her best friend. One color-coded binder later, Leslie and Ann are ready to start over. Make a baby together, ladies!
Next page: Tom’s not your maid.