Monday Recap: The Big Bang Theory, season 3, episode 2

September 28, 2009

On Monday’s The Big Bang Theory, Leonard and Penny struggled to define their relationship, both feeling awkward after their romantic hook-up in last week’s season 3 premiere. Making things worse, in the opening scene, Leonard discusses that encounter with Sheldon, Raj and Howard, characterizing it as merely ‘fine.’ Later, as the foursome eats dinner with Penny, Sheldon, in his typical, socially inept fashion, describes that conversation to Penny, who's predictably mortified.

Over at Penny’s apartment, Penny and Leonard discuss their relationship over large amounts of peppermint schnapps; back at Leonard’s, Sheldon, Raj and Howard become fixated on a chirping cricket. Sheldon swears, based on the number of chirps per minute and room temperature, the cricket is a snowy tree cricket. Howard protests that it’s merely a common field cricket, ultimately leading to a bet involving rare comic book editions. After catching the cricket, the trio visits Professor Crawley (Lewis Black in a funny cameo) of the university’s entomology department to settle the bet.

Meanwhile, Leonard and Penny get so drunk that they spend extended time in her bathroom puking together, as they try sorting out their relationship, he in the toilet, her in the sink. Ultimately, they decide to go back to being friends. That doesn’t work out exactly as planned though.
Also revealed in episode 2 is Sheldon's fear of chickens. As a child in east Texas, he was chased into a tree by a neighbor’s rooster, making him terrified of them ever since. The letter, at the show’s end, revolved around that fear. Overall, a funny episode, with Lewis Black’s cameo being the highlight.

 The Letter
“The day Carl was made henhouse rooster had to be the proudest day of his life. Oh, how he strutted and preened outside the little hut where all the chickens lived. From the corner of his eye he could see them nervously peeking out to see the new cock of the walk. You could hardly blame him for smiling so smugly. He knew that, from that moment on, if a chicken wanted extra feed, well, she had to ask Carl. Same thing for pecking privileges in the yard. And of course, when it came time to lay eggs, the premium spots nearest the warming lamps were handed out by you-know-who. Yep, life was good for ol’ Carl. Up at dawn, a loud clearing of the throat, a largely ceremonial patrol of the perimeter and then, an afternoon and evening of doling out favors to the chickens. And the best part about it was, he never had to actually ask for anything in return. He would simply tell each chicken to decide for herself what, if anything, she should give him to ensure his continued friendship. But let me tell you, it’s no accident he named his rooster hut “Casa Quid Pro Quo.” Yep, Carl had it knocked. At least until he was forced out of his job by a class-action paternity suit that was entirely without merit and probably politically motivated by bitter, eggless chickens.”