Last night's show began on a peculiar note. Gone was the ostentatious and overproduced scoring. In its wake was a gentle guitar strumming and a lonely male voice singing sorrowfully. Could it be that the producers of The OC had taken over the show? No, it was only Danny picking at his guitar and doing his best Ryan Adams impersonation. Rumor has it he was auditioning for Zach Braff's Indie Idol. If you haven't heard of it, maybe you're just not in the loop. It's indie, you know.

After the coffee shop worthy performance ended, Danny declared "We're starting to get along!" Cut to the sound of an ominous, Jurassic Park-ish thud on the soundtrack as Net Worth returned to the apartment. Why the scary sound? Were they coming to eat the college grads? Not necessarily. But they did bring news of Brian's crash and burn boardroom from last week. Someone said that he basically fired himself, causing a perplexed Michael from Magna to ask if Brian had actually said to himself "I'm fired!" And to illustrate his question, Michael even did the cobra thing to his own face (excuse me while I hide under my degree). Honestly, it was one of the dumber things I'd seen on this show, and yet it was incredibly funny — probably because after Michael did the hand thing, he stood blankly as if he had actually been fired.

Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Verna was still tired. Danny arrived to comfort her, but I fear that he simply undid all the careful encouragement Carolyn gave last week during their little jaunt through the Jersey ghetto. Danny called a group meeting to make sure everyone was supporting Verna. We're all behind you, he explained. If you feel sick tomorrow, we'll cover for you. Suddenly the polite nods came to a screeching halt as everyone raised their index fingers in quiet protest. Turns out no one would support Verna that far, and rightfully so. With nothing left to discuss, Verna threw in the towel and opted to quit. Kendra then shouted "UNBELIEVABLE!" but when her team responded with uncomfortable glares, she added "I'm still not really sure when we say it."

And so while the loft's populace gathered together to eat, drink and be merry, Verna quietly exited the apartment to the tune of a weepy piano. We cut back and forth between the diners and Verna, with some people like Stephanie looking back to see only the shadow of a once great fast food patron. The whole thing sort of felt like one of those Zoloft commercials. I half expected a little ladybug to go by Verna's head, causing her to smile and attract a well adjusted Zoloft ball friend. Alas, her fatigue was too great. If only she could have some coffee. Mayhaps some Taster's Choice?