That is what would be on Lil’ Nicky’s tombstone, if Schmidt had his say. As Nick faced a health scare, the gang pondered the big questions: What is the meaning of life? How can we come to terms with our own mortality? How many ears does Daniel Boone have? You’ll get the answer to that one in the quotables. The rest you’ll have to figure out yourself. This was a surprisingly tender, poignant episode, and I am not ashamed to admit I got a little misty at the end. They were tears that could only be healed by laughter – or heavy-duty menstrual meds. And Nick got some of those tonight. But how?
It all began when the whole gang played flag football (Schmidt in spandex capris, mind you) and Jess clobbered Nick. When America’s youngest old man refused to seek treatment because he didn’t have insurance, Jess insisted on taking Nick to her doctor. And by “doctor,” I mean OB-GYN. Nick tried to run out the door, but he literally couldn’t stand up, so Jess told him to suck up his male vagina-fear and handed him a Lucky magazine to peruse.
Before the night’s big drama could begin, another roommate was experiencing trauma. After Nick was blinded by pain and careened into Winston’s car (though the mechanic refused to classify it as such), Winston was told he’d be losing his wheels. (Nick silver-lined the collision: “Actually I think I undid a dent there.”) The vehicle in question appeared to be a 1992 Ford Explorer that had never been washed, with a front bumper held up by seatbelts or something equally ridiculous and a rear window covered entirely with duct tape. More salient details: Schmidt did an impression of its morning noises that sounded like a deranged rooster, it was an illegal college recruitment gift, and Winston starts it the old-fashioned way – with a paper clip.
NEXT: The unique consolatory powers of Daffy Duck, Lynyrd Skynrd, and freestyle rap