Hart of Dixie

I'm here to celebrate the good news about my beloved nephew

dating AnnaBeth Nass.

I'm here to warn you.

You came to my house

to tell me my new boyfriend

is only with me as part of a plot...

I'm trying to protect you.

You're being a jealous ex-boyfriend.

The sex was amazing.

- With Lemon?! - Shh! Shh!

Every time I look at her, I am physically unable

to stop picturing it.

- What's he...? - Charles slept on the couch.

He stayed here? It wasn't a big deal.

- Okay. - I should go.

Yeah. I'll call you later.

Oh, what the hell.

Hi! You've reached Vivian Wilkes.

Leave a message.

Uh, hey, Viv. It's Wade calling.

Just thought I'd give you a shout.

Been a few days...

I am gonna wring your little...!

Uh...

not you.

The... the raccoon.

Which-which... may...

May-Maybe that sounded weird, but there was...

there was a raccoon.

Which you probably guessed.

And, uh, well, now it's gone.

So, uh...

look, I-I'd love to see you.

And there are no more raccoons over here at Casa de Wade.

Call me.

Casa de Wade. What?

I can't get any lower.

I've sunk as low as humanly possible.

Blew our chance to host the county fair.

A.B. hates me, town hates me.

And, in worse news,

I am the subject of the Owls' charity roast.

They won't even need to write jokes.

Come on. I know times are rough, but you're Lavon Hayes.

Two Super Bowls, four Pro Bowls.

Every time you get knocked down, you get right back up. Come on.

Go.

- Oh. - Geez.

I did get knocked down a lot.

See, it's a pattern. No, that's not what I meant at all.

Oh.

Oh. (SIGHS)

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Where are you going?

I need to talk to you.

Not now. Owl meeting.

I got to face the music, the pitchforks,

the rotten tomatoes in my face.

de, everything okay?

Just fine. Dandy.

Yeah? Well, that thinking crease is making a rare appearance

in your forehead, so, what's going on?

It's just Vivian.

All right? Things are, oh,

weird between us.

She's distant, she won't return my calls.

She's spending a lot of time with Charles.

So, her and Charles are friends.

It's evolved. It's great for Harley.

I wish my parents made that kind of effort.

Trust me, he's not making that effort for Harley.

Oh, Wade, come on. Vivian is crazy about you!

And Charles... he's Charles.

But you... you're you.

You know? He's not a threat.

Oh, come on. No more thinking face.

Look, I'll tell you what.

I have plans with Vivian to get our nails done later.

I'll do some digging.

You'd do that for me? Yeah, well, I have to.

I am your doctor.

Besides, all this sudden

thinking could be very dangerous for your unused brain.

Ha, ha.

Thank you.

Mm-hmm.

George.

George.

- (DISTORTED) - Have you seen this report?

What are we gonna do?

Uh...

George! You're doing it again.

- You're zoning out. - No. No. No, Lemon, I'm not.

I was... I was just... I was just

really thinking about what you were saying.

- Which was...? - You know, the...

The health inspection report.

- Yeah. - We got an A-minus.

Which is great. An A-minus, George.

An A-minus!

Mae Ellen Waterloo has never given me less than an "A,"

not even for the Rammer Jammer.

A glowing and pristine cleanliness is my signature.

Okay.

Well, then, maybe Mae, you know, had a bad morning.

She got out of bed on the wrong side, or someone peed

- in her coffee. Who knows? - Well, not at Fancie's!

That might have happened at the Rammer Jammer,

but nobody ever knew, so...

I wish I didn't know about it.

George, you're right.

Mae wasn't her usual bubbly self. She wasn't

whistling or making any jokes.

Exactly. There you go. Mystery solved.

Now you can just move on.

Or... I can fix her.

Thank you, George.

Good Owls, last week I let my personal life...

you know, my breakup with A.B.,

my animosity for all things Gainey...

get in the way of bluebell's best interest.

Which is why I understand if you want

to cancel your annual Mayoral Toast and Roast.

Better yet, let's vote on a replacement.

I nominate me.

No! Now, is there

anyone here who has not crossed the line

when it comes to matters of the heart?

Hmm? Why, when I was

in the seventh grade, I joined the choir

just so I could sit next to Ella-Jean Swain.

It is possible

that I may have let.

Cupid's arrow talk me out of any number of tickets.

- Mm. - I sent 150 postcards to Kerry Washington

and flowers on her birthday.

All returned.

Mm. Mayor Hayes,

we, the Owls, stand by you.

All those in favor of moving forward

with the Mayoral Toast and Roast,

let me hear you hoot.

Hooty, hoot, hoot, hoot!

Belles, I understand there are some among you

that may take issue with my new boyfriend.

It is true that Davis Polk is a Gainey,

but he is also a wonderful

and honest man.

That said, if you feel the need to censure me

or even ask for my resignation

as Belle co-leader, I will not object.

Well, I will.

If AnnaBeth is happy,

then we should be happy

- for her. - Agreed.

Seconded and thirded!

Especially after the way

you crapped out in love this year.

Oops. Send that to college, Crickett.

What I mean is, shame on Mayor Hayes!

He wastes

some of your most fertile months,

breaks up with you, and then has the gall

to Gainey-shame you?!

Well, I'm not sure I would go that far...

That's right, Elodie.

Lavon is the one who should be censured.

I move that we pull out

of the Owls' Mayoral Toast and Roast this year

in solidarity for our beloved A.B.

Oh, I don't know.

I mean, we've rehearsed, and the costumes

are really great.

But, oh, y'all would do that for me?

All in favor?

Yea!

Yay!

- Hey, George. How are you? - Oh, hey.

- Good to see you. - Oh, I'm good. I'm good. Thank you so much,

Reverend, for taking the time to see me.

- It's much appreciated. - Well,

of course, whenever one of my flock asks for help, I help.

So, lay it on me, brother.

It's a little too much vernacular sauce?

No, no, it's-it's...

- I'm sorry. - Just a little...

Go ahead.

Uh, but, anyway, the-the situation is...

You know, say that one of your flock, uh,

had developed feelings for the

most spoiled, irritating and annoying sheep in town,

and-and... he wants to rid himself of said feelings.

George, it sounds like you need something

to take your mind off this particular sheep,

and I know just what it should be.

Prayer.

A date with our visiting Sunday school teacher.

Oh, yeah. No.

I mean, no offense, Reverend,

but that-that is so not what I had in mind.

Well, I think it's a great idea.