Teachers

Thanks for another great date.

Here's to many, many, many, many, many, many more.

To us.

- To us! -

Oh. Mmm. Are you gonna eat those shrimps?

Ugh, I friggin' love shrimp.

Mmm, mmm, mmm. Mmm.

Who keeps pooping in the hallway?

Ding-dong.

I have a delivery here for Ms. Mary Louise Bennigan.

That's me. I'm Ms. Mary Louise Bennigan.

And your name is?

Just kidding. I know you're name.

Wow. These are beautiful.

You must've gotten these from a really fancy supermarket.

Ah, I went to a florist.

Oh, I can't take these.

- They're yours. - Ah, I feel like I can't.

Yes!

Well, I came by to see

if you would like to go out again tonight.

I'd love to.

Let me check and see if Chelsea's free.

Uh, actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.

I know Chelsea's your friend...

- Best friend. - Right.

But she's been on most of our dates so far.

- Just four. - Out of five.

And I was wondering if tonight...

it could just be the two of us.

I'd love that, but I don't think Chelsea

has anything else lined up.

And she just got kicked off Tinder

for having all three private areas as her profile picture.

Wow.

Uh, well, I'm sure she'll be fine.

- She is an adult. - She prefers advanced teen.

This is gonna be rough.

Oh, this happens every year.

That was the third rogue poop this week.

Actually, fourth.

Mr. Spinnoli stepped in a hot human turd.

That's why he stopped wearing Tevas.

It's got to be Bradley G.

He and his friends pooped all over the school last year.

I've got a plan.

We'll monitor all the boys in school,

listen in on their conversations,

search their desks, watch their online activity,

do whatever it takes.

Isn't that kind of an invasion of their privacy?

Students' rights don't mean diddly

when there's a poop terrorist.

And remember, when it comes to Georgia O'Keeffe...

It's never just a flower.

Excellent. Great job, guys.

Oh.

- - No, Caroline, don't!

What? It was a cockroach.

Murderer.

Security checkpoint, boys.

Why didn't you stop those girls?

Because the girls weren't brought up in a culture that glorifies poop.

Now empty your pockets.

So you know what you're looking for?

Anything having to do with poop,

- number two, dookie, doo-doo. - You got it.

But butter, Lincoln logs,

chocolate thunder, human Tootsie Rolls.

Yeah, I said you got it.

What's in the lunch box, Terrence?

My lunch.

Really?

Shredded Wheat?

Pretty high-fiber snack here, Terrence.

You planning on using this at both ends today?

I have got to get ass implants.

Hey, there, Chelse-a-roo.

How's it hanging, girlfriend?

Why are you acting strange?

Did you and Hot Dad do butt stuff?

Ugh, I told you you'd feel weird the next day.

What? No. I never... I never.

Uh, but I did talk to him this morning, and tonight...

He's joining us to watch "Teen Mom Where Are They Now: Regular Moms"?

- Oh, I forgot it's Tuesday. - That's perfect.

Afterwards, you and Hot Dad

can help us assemble my new bookshelf.

And then I'm gonna buy books for it so I look smart.

I really want to start picking up tech-industry guys.

He and I already made plans

to go to the Great American Pasta Company.

Okay, we can do that instead.

Actually, I was thinking it could just be the two of us.

It's just now that we're dating,

we need to spend some time together alone

to see what our relationship is like with...

without you.

So you're bailing on me?

Whatever. I'll just spend the night by myself.

Everyone needs a little bit of alone time...

like Kim Kardashian after she got robbed in Paris.

Chelsea?

Oh, my God.

Mary Louise?

Is that you?

Ugh, I don't have my contacts in.

What are you doing here?

We're on our date.

What a coincidence.

Armen and I are here on a date, too.

It's his favorite restaurant.

You guys have a good night.

Uh, just so you know, my break is only 15 minutes.

Okay, Dane Cook.

I am not leaving here tonight without a hot stock tip from you.

I'm sorry. I don't know what you're talking about.

Yes, you do.

Don't think I don't know that you golf with the mayor.

Hey, blue Volvo.

I'm so sorry. I got to get back to work.

Oh.

Okay. Okay.

- Chelsea? - Hmm?

Would you like to join us?

Oh, I don't want to impose.

Okay, fine.

Oh, I cannot get enough of these shrimp.

Oh! Mmm.

Mmm.

Ooh, baby. That's a cheap wine.

Cecilia freaked out

and called me a murderer for killing some dumb bug.

Don't sweat it. She called me the same thing when I peeled an orange.

Hey, girl. Pasta?

Chelsea, I can't believe you crashed our date.

I can't help it that you went to my favorite restaurant.

You hate that place.

You said that Great American Pasta Company

was for fat Italian trash.

No, I said it was for fat trash who want to be Italian.

I know your date was the valet.

He got our car when we left.

He just likes helping strangers retrieve their cars,

and he's so into it, they gave him a uniform.

Okay, Chelsea, it's really important

that we spend time together alone.

I know. I miss you...

No, I mean Hot Dad and me!

So now you're one of those girls

who gets a boyfriend and completely disappears?

You've literally left me

at hundreds of bars without a ride home.

Just last weekend you ditched me for a pharmaceutical sales rep.

He manages the entire Midwest territory.

What was I supposed to do... not sleep with him?

Okay, you know what? If you're gonna act like this,

then I don't want to hang out with you anymore.

And don't try to win me back

by saying I can sleep over in your bed tonight,

because we both know you never follow through!

Ah!

This is really good.

- New development? - Ah, get down.

I found this.

An attack is imminent.

Bradley G's dropping a bomb!

Go, go, go!

Pooper! Freeze!

Thought you could get away with it,

didn't you, you fecal insurgent?

Get away with what? I was just tying my shoe.

Nice try, dude.

We're taking you to the detention monitoring center.

Please, I don't want to go to Ditmo!

Move!

You should never kill a living thing,

because each and every life is precious,

including a cockroach like Kevin.

Kevin? Okay, you can't be serious.

Oh, I am.

You see, I knew Kevin.

He used to peacefully roam these halls,

minding his own business, never hurting anybody.

He was a cockroach, Cecilia.

We can't be expected to live amongst cockroaches.

Well, we should.

Insects were here first, by over 300 million years.

So, technically, we're on their turf.

Whatever. I had to kill him.

Did you, Caroline?

Or could you have just covered him with a cup,

slid a piece of paper under it, and released him into the wild?

Why would I ruin a cup?

Ms. Cannon, look.

Wow, Karina. That's a beautiful depiction of Kevin.

He's up in Heaven with all the other bugs Ms. Watson's killed.

Mass murderer.

Ah! Please, I can't take this music anymore!