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The cameos continue! The redhead who's overhearing this snippet of physics/biology conversation is Guinevere (specifically, the modern-day version of Guinevere) from Arthur, King of Time and Space. When I originally asked to borrow her, I thought of putting her in the gym scene earlier with the Riot Nrrd people, but I didn't want to muddle things.

And yes, for people who haven't been keeping track, Leftover Soup has been going for two weeks now:
Thursday - Ellen meets Jamie, Jamie moves in.
Friday - Jamie meets Max, RPS Chess, Jamie meets Max again, Spambot.
Saturday - Filthy Hippie, Wallace, D&D.
Sunday - Showerhead, pumpkin bombs.
Monday - Ellen takes a sick day, Jamie takes off his neck brace, Triptych, Pinball.
Tuesday - Pinball dies (around 1 am), conversation re: Lily/asexuality, pesto.
Wednesday - Max offers to sleep with Jamie, gets shot down.
Thursday - Ellen on the job.
Friday - Only one strip (Simon's Spider-man/ASL joke).
Saturday - (late night/early Sunday morning) Jamie gets mugged, D&D group TPKs.
Sunday - Nicole reads auras, Wallace punches Jamie, Dice Farmer.
Monday - Jamie first meets with Leonard.
Tuesday - Search for Max's phone, conversation re: eugenics.
Wednesday - Jamie is a free man, drinking, Truth or Dare.
And that brings us to today, Thursday morning again.


(Thursday morning, EXT: walking back from gym)

MH: So wait, he's been getting up to make you post-workout omelettes every day for two weeks, and you haven't touched his penis even a little bit yet?
EB: It hasn't been every day.
MH: Still, though! You got this poor bastard cooking you breakfast. His balls have gotta be so blue shifted that they're emitting gamma radiation.
EB: You're implying that the term "blue balls" indicates that the testes in question are scooting around the universe at relativistic velocities?
MH: If they aren't yet, they will be soon if you don't reach out and grab'em.
EB: As I recall, that particular maneuver didn't work out so well in your case.
MH: Alls I'm sayin' is, a dude makes me a dozen omelettes, I'd at least throw a dry handjob his way.
EB: You don't eat omelettes, though.
MH: It's the thought that counts!