Ben (Adam Scott) and Leslie (Amy Poehler) share a private moment before she gives her victory speech.

Well, that was a close call. I almost had to go on a murderous rampage because of how irrationally angry I was that Leslie lost. But unlike a certain real-life election, a recount changed the course of history.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, this show is supremely talented at capturing the immense scope of what makes life lovely, laughable, difficult and dreamlike. While there was no shortage of burst-at-the-seams lines from the eccentric cast, I found myself rewinding my DVR furiously to relive the overwhelmingly affectionate exchanges. I’d imagine an election night must be similar to any milestone or “Kodak” moment. On par with prom, graduation, your wedding, your first child’s birth, or any achievement of a lifelong dream, Leslie’s win was an occasion that went by too fast to witness, but not quick enough that it couldn’t be lived to the fullest. But life doesn’t happen in a vacuum, and decisions made during the ecstasy, anxiety and heart thumping could have major repercussions. While I was wrong that Leslie would lose (thankfully), I was guessed correctly that the results would drastically change everything that involved this parks department family.

All the laboring is out the way, now it’s just the waiting game. Our intro to the episode showcases Jennifer Barkley’s desperate attempts to give Bobby an edge with Sweetums-sponsored voting machines that pop out a candy bar when you vote Newport and play the sound of a baby crying when you vote Knope—even asking “Are you sure?” And while these are all absurd tack-ons (including that under Pawnee election law, in the event of a tie the man wins and the woman goes to jail), it was the jaunty beginning we needed with so much tension surrounding the results. We get some  delightful side plots to ease our minds as well.

Tom is sure he had a premonition the night before about Ann asking him to get back together at the post-election celebration. The details surrounding his dream (more on those later) don’t suggest that as a remote possibility, but it motivates him to throw a dope-as-hell gala. Although it can’t be a pimps and hoes pajama party because Ben’s an uptight nerd—his words not mine. April calls Andy in a panic because in trying to transfer department files to a thumbdrive she accidentally deleted them all. Andy’s solution is to use the XBox method: blow on it and slap it. For fixing game systems, that’s shockingly accurate. For a computer, it simply knocks it to the ground. For Chris, there’s the matter of his one-night stand with Jenn Barkley. He shares all the details of his sensational experience with Ann Perkins, but since he’s vulnerable and prone to attachment he tries to talk with her, but instead is sucked into her web of sloppy supply closet sex.

At the voting booths, Leslie assures Bobby that voting for yourself is not illegal while Ben gets a job offer from Jenn. Admiring his campaign managing acumen, she extends him the opportunity to assist her in a Congressional campaign. The position would require him to be in Washington D.C for six months, however. You can tell he’s elated. Not only is he avenging his disastrous turn as an 18 year-old mayor, but he’s moving up in the world like his love, Leslie. But when Leslie extracts the information from him she says they’ll talk it over, but you can tell she doesn’t want him to go. Her reasoning is sound: they haven’t had a sense of normalcy in months and she just wants to enjoy him and their time together.  She puts those worries on the back burner though as she soaks up her fantasy turned reality as she punches the hole next to her name, and it’s too darn cute. After being Leslie the campaigning robot, she has a private release of pure humanity where her determination and drive has culminated in a scene she’s likely played in her head multiple times, but now it’s happening. Obviously. Bobby ruins it, needing assistance in the booth—he has ink all over his hands, the pen broke off the chain, he doesn’t get it!

After the polls have closed the gang, minus preoccupied April and Andy, heads to the Jermaine Jackson Ballroom (so named because he visited Pawnee, once.) After one percent of precincts reporting, Brandi Maxxxx had a commanding lead. I’d like to think that moment was a shoutout to the wonderful work actress Mara Marini did for that role in “The Debate,” but it coud be that those precincts really enjoy their porn. Ann calms a frantic Leslie who’s immediately worried her dreams would be crushed by an adult film star. Ann planned an outing for them if such an occasion were to arise where Leslie lost her head: kickboxing.

Back at the office, Andy suggests that if April gets fired for losing the files they’ll just move to a new city, burn their fingertips with acid, swap faces if necessary and go from there. He starts brainstorming places where they can live and new jobs they’ll acquire. As always, “Parks” includes jokes in any written or visual material and this time there were many fictional places on the list including Winterfell (where my GoT fans at?!). April, as the more practical of the two, calls Donna who fixes their issue with a couple clicks. Jerry deletes files accidentally all the time so she had her own secret backup installed. Oh, Donna. How underappreciated you are.

Separated at that time, Leslie consults Ann while punching with her fists of fury, and Ben asks Ron, about how they should approach his job offer. Both, if given the chance, would clearly do what the other wanted. That’s why they get along so well. They’re selfless and sacrificing and downright kind folks. Leslie confesses it would kill her if he left, and Ann rightly advises her she has to tell him that. Ron after divulging more of his odd habits and examples of his resistance to change, convinces Ben that because Leslie and he would be willing to jump off a cliff into the great unknown together, they’ll be okay apart. That’s what a good relationship is. Ben swallows that sound advice, but he can’t hold his dark liquor and his horrifying face was our slapstick reward for the day. With 75% reporting, Leslie’s up by 182 votes and Jerry praying hard since he didn’t get to the polls in time to vote. And the self-loathing man he is (and because he’s tormented by misfortune) he’s certain he’ll be the difference if it comes down to the wire.

Ben expectedly agrees without hesitation to stay when Leslie expresses her insecurities over him leaving. He claims he was on the fence anyway, but he’s such a gentleman and cares so deeply, it’s no question that’s lip service. In a karmic twist, just as Leslie strips her support from Ben, the election is called by Perd Hapley and Bobby has won by 21 votes. Ben rushes to Leslie’s defense and as master of election law he demands a recount since 21 votes is well within the 1% necessary to justify it. Worried the results will change, Jenn offers the conciliation prize of Joe Biden’s home phone number, and Leslie almost takes it. It’s such a subtle callback to her unorthodox crush, and props to the writers for knowing that was the precise time to use it. The balance between crisis and hilarious distraction has always been striking on this show, but they flexed their muscles in a finale that called for extreme peaks and valleys.

When Leslie goes missing as the votes are tallied, Ron knows where to find her. The council chambers. She sits in the chair that would be hers and laments all the people she’ll disappoint if she loses. Always the giver, she’s sick over all the spare minutes her friends have spent on her that might go to waste. And Ron nails the mentality of not only why he and the department love her, but why we love her. “We didn’t volunteer because we wanted to wrap ourselves in personal glory. We did it because we care, about you…That’s what you do when you care about someone. You support them, win, lose, or draw.” I got all misty-eyed, I couldn’t help it. I adore their unlikely mentor/mentee relationship. Their aren’t many public figures who hold opposing political beliefs that would respect each other on such an intrinsic level. It’s rare in television too, to see a relationship amongst opposite sexes that is purely platonic with so much heart. Bravo.

Ron’s speech inspires Leslie to change her mind about Ben leaving for D.C. She takes one of her fifty Washington Monument figurines (always the patriot) and surprises him. That tiny replica is not only a testament to the rock solid foundation of their relationship, but it represents his dreams that she’ll support, like how he presented her with the “Knope 2012″ button (I’m told she used the same box Ben did). He put her ambitions before “them,” now she’ll return the favor. They kid around saying they’ll “do it” all over Washington if that’s how they’ll be together when Ann interrupts. In a somber tone she reveals that the margin is still 21 votes…but in her favor. Leslie tears up, and even I want to bawl like a baby for her as relief washes over the scene. The right person won. How often does that happen? I was wrong in assuming her loss would be the biggest surprise. Her win, although a happy ending, is still improbable. As “Catch Your Dream” blares in the background, Jenn runs off without giving Chris a proper goodbye (she doesn’t deserve him), Ron declines the assistant city manager position, staying true to who he is—a man who likes things just the way they are—and the fan favorite Jean Ralphio butts in to take the job, but Chris rejects him immediately. He takes it well though, “Smart move, go with your gut.”

As Leslie prepares to give her victory speech she requests that some day she read the concession speech Ben wrote for her. But he never wrote one. That’s belief. That’s love. And that was the third time I got super puddly. Leslie’s speech even tops the one in “The Debate,” when she wraps up Ben’s fine portion and goes rogue with a touching sentiment—”Let’s break out a map. Not the old one that shows where we’ve been, but a crisp, new one that shows where we might go. Let’s embark on a new journey together and see where it takes us.” Unfortunately, this feeling is reflective of the script’s writer, creator Michael Schur. As I’m writing this, “Parks and Recreation” has not yet been renewed, it’s status in series limbo. The episode was written as a potential series finale. It’s open ended, sure. Nostra-Tomus’ premonition comes true and a drunken Ann agrees they should move in together—promising no takebacks when she sobers up—and April encourages Andy to become a police officer since he had that as a dream job on his board when he thought they’d need to go on the lamb. Still, it does have an air of finality. Leslie is living a dream, Ben is off to D.C, Ron is happy where he is, and the others reach for the stars.

It’s absurd that a show with such heart, hysterical wit and iconic characters could cease to exist, but in reality what this finale proved was that whether another episode airs or not, “Parks and Recreation” is not any singular episode, scene, or gut-busting line. It’s the soul. It’s what these people mean to us, how a group of people who never existed in reality feels like family that we might lose forever. I won’t shed a tear though if “Parks” is cancelled. I did enough of that watching “Win, Lose, or Draw.” I’ll smile because the memories will live on on Netflix and elsewhere and in our collective consciousness as a triumph of spirit—proof that people with different viewpoints, personalities and predispositions can band together to make true change happen. And there’s a last bit of humor there. I’m not sure whether I’m talking about the incredible staff on the show, or the lovable crew who reside in the Pawnee inside us all.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines

- “Last night at approximately 2:30 a.m, I woke up from a dream that felt so real it had to be a premonition. Me, Drake and the T-Mobile girl were playing baccarat on a private jet. Ann Perkins walks up to me and says, ‘Tommy, tomorrow night I’m taking you back.’ Then Blue Ivy Carter high-fived me and gave me 40 million dollars. It was all SO REAL.”

- Chris: “Recently, in a moment of weakness I had sex, with Bobby Newport’s campaign manager, Jennifer Barkley.” Ann: “Seriously?” Chris: “Yes, several times. And several more times. Then a couple more times. And then one more time.”

- “Our ferocious sexual decathlon did improve my mood.”

- “First of all, you did the right thing hiding under this table.”

- Leslie: “What were you talking with Jenn about?” Ben: “Oh nuthin’. No I just—nuthin’. She’s—nuthin’. Nuthin’ nuthin’. It’s nuthin’. Hey, what’s a good place to buy jeans.” Leslie: “You have plenty of jeans!”

- “Brandi Maxxxx, the porn star, is gonna beat me. What is this, Italy?”

- “You’re thoughtful, you’re brilliant, and your ambiguous ethnic blend perfectly represents the dream of the American melting pot.”

- “Clear alcohols are for rich women on diets.”

- “I’ve had the same haircut since 1978, and I’ve had the same car since 1991. I’ve used the same wooden comb for three decades. I have one bowl. I still get my milk delivered by horse.”

- Ben: “Why are you laughing?” Leslie: “Because my dream is dead (laughs manically). Oh f*ck.”

- “Who’s got two thumbs and was just cleared of insurance fraud? This guy!”

- “Guys, we’re going to J.J’s for victory waffles, then we’re staying up all night talking about our lives and our feelings. Non-negotiable! Let’s go! City council bitches!!!”

UPDATE: All is right with the world! As of 3 p.m. Friday, NBC has renewed “Parks and Recreation!” For more details, click here.

Mara Marini guest starred as Brandi Maxxxx on this season's episode, "The Debate," on NBC's "Parks and Recreation"

Mara Marini may be from Canada originally, but her face and ambition say Hollywood. Even in a phone interview she exudes an infectious sweetness that you’d imagine would have to carry over on the small or big screen.

And while she would tell you she’s blessed and appreciative of all that her time in Los Angeles has afforded her, it almost doesn’t seem fair that it’s taken this long for her star to shine.

“I literally told my parents since I was four years old, ‘I’m gonna move to L.A. as soon as I graduate…I knew I wanted to be here, I just didn’t know how I was going to get here,” Marini recalls.

Her ticket was acceptance to the American Academy of Dramatic Arts (AADA). After attending York University in Toronto, Marini auditioned for the prestigious school that has trained many noteworthy names, including Adam Scott, Marini’s co-star on the hit NBC sitcom “Parks and Recreation.”

Coincidentally,  Adam Scott spoke at her graduation- and fellow “Parks” guest star Paul Rudd spoke at Adam Scott’s graduation, creating what Marini calls a “trifecta” of AADA alums on “Parks and Recreation.”

Regarding the idea of “making it,” Marini “never really had any grandiose ideas about being a star,” she says. “I just knew I wanted to act and I never wanted to do anything else.”

She had gained theatre experience in Canada and continued on that track in L.A. She also “did a lot of indie films, anything I could get my hands on.”

Only recently did she hire an agent that she really likes. Before that, she was self-made – a scrappy, door-to-door saleswoman of sorts, pitching herself at meetings. Amazingly, her problem was that she was just another blonde beauty with personality. “We have someone just like you” was an oft-heard soft blow sort of rejection she’d receive. Then there would be the vulgar male agents looking to capitalize on her sexuality: “We need you to come back in a bikini.”

After graudation, she faced many of the anxieties most young professionals face. “It was a lot of hustle…I knew I’d have to find my niche, so I tried a bunch of different things. I did stand-up [comedy] for a while,” she recalls. Though that foray only lasted about a year, like anything it was a learning experience.

“The problem for me was, to get into comedy,  you really have to make that a career. You start off as either a ‘bringer’ or a ‘ringer’. So unless you’re a ‘bringer’ , which is like the star, you have to bring a certain amount of people per show or they’ll take speech time. So the first few times were great, but I didn’t want to be asking my friends to  come every week, so it was a catch-22.”

Marini learned that it takes full devotion to make it as a comedian. Her friend, comedian Colin Kane, has taught her by example. ” … 24/7 he’s on it, promoting himself, him and his manager just going at it,” she says.  ”It really has to be your love and your career. And acting is where my passion lies.”

Of course, nothing in her acting career has come close to “Parks and Recreation,” which she describes as “the best time of my life.” The gig to end all gigs came about when Dorian Frankel, the casting director on the show, was holding a workshop. “Most of the time it isn’t super fruitful, I feel. But this time, I saw a breakdown for this Brandi Maxxxx character and submitted myself,” she recalls. “I felt like, ‘I have this, I have this. This is totally me.’”

Despite being disappointed with her audition, Marini landed the part. “That’s why you never know,” she says simply.

She’s had instances where casting directors have said “‘you will definitely hear back from us,’  then nothing. Or you will walk out feeling really bad about yourself, and you end up booking it. You just never know.”

The struggles to please industry professionals don’t stop there, however. The casting director for a now cancelled ABC  show, The Whole Truth,” had brought Marini to try out several parts, and was not blind to her talents – but there was one aspect of her that he took issue with.

“He called my agent— a totally unsolicited call, which is nice—and said ‘Pilot season is coming up and we love Mara, we think she’s really talented, but you know—her hair is just so blonde. Maybe you should tone it down. Maybe she’s a bit too sexy,” Marini recalls with a laugh.Still, she admits that she did concede, dying her hair dark brown.

As fate would have it, though, she got the call from “Parks and Recreation” in January to appear for a second time as Brandi Maxxxx. Her first appearance was on April 28, 2011 in last season’s “Jerry’s Painting,” (seen at right) in which Brandi Maxxx publicly defends a painting that Jerry (Jim O’Heir) made depicting a topless Greek goddess that bears a striking resemblance to Leslie (Amy Poehler). The dark-haired look didn’t work for the buxom adult film star’s image, and Marini went back to blonde.

“Being yourself” is a challenge Hollywood, and something that Marini has struggled with since leaving the halls of the AADA. “You’ll be typecast as the tough guy or the nerdy guy, but that could be your ‘in’,” she says. “I could go out for more things and tone it down, but that wouldn’t be me.”

It isn’t only her brand of femininity that presents obstacles. Being a woman in the hypersexualized atmosphere of acting still has its pitfalls. “I feel that … there’s still a little bit of an old boys’ club,” she says. Even when she came across female agents, she felt the same discrimination. “I chopped [my hair] to just above my chin, [and dyed it] brown, and she didn’t even get me one audition. And that’s when I was like, ‘No, I’m not listening to anyone else but me’,” she recalls. “She would tell me you’re to pretty to go in for young moms and stuff, but you’re not pretty enough to play a supermodel.”

Andy's (Chris Pratt) alter ego Burt Macklin is back and ready to neutralize a threat to Leslie's campaign.

Even after the rousing speech to end “The Debate” that inspired legions of Leslie supporters (and this reviewer), she’s still two points down. As I alluded to in my review of “Live Ammo,” the stakes have been raised for a show whose main draw is how much fun will be had on a weekly basis. There’s a sense that even the slightest slip-up could make this house of cards collapse.

Leslie is easily the only person in the race who’s fit for the position, but despite our affection for her and all her dearest advisors and staff, I’m unsure she’ll win. It’s not a matter of faith or distrust, it’s a reflection of the superb storytelling. Sitcoms have used tension to ensnare viewers since the format burst on the scene, but by and large, things work out for the best. I cannot think of a comedy that deliberately disappointed me (well “The Office” is trying real hard) by teasing something and then yanking out the tablecloth. Obstacles do a fantastic job of stalling so we spend episode upon episode waiting for the inevitable, but “Parks” is threatening more than any other comedy to not only put a twist on our hopes and expectations, but to go the route of gritty dramas and go drastic.

In some ways I want her to fail. That sort of devastation and falling-short might have more to tell us then her triumph ever could. Ultimately, my fanboy devotion hinges in on how much I love to hang with these people who have been so carefully crafted that they feel like my friends. If Leslie’s shenanigans are still staged in the parks department as opposed to city hall, I suspect it wouldn’t change a thing. Except it would change everything for how she perceives her work and what matters. And that’s an exciting possibility. And yet, a part of me would be irrationally angry if she lost. This show has me by the throat and it won’t let go. Only as my last breath escapes, will I know what I absolutely want, but by then will be too late.

Luckily the last moments will be joyous. Even as LesBen seems to be outsmarted at every turn by Jenn Barkley, they weasel their way out with charm and genuine kindness that isn’t advisable in any political script. In this penultimate episode of season four, it’s the final day of the campaign and nothing screams last shot like a tour bus with your face plastered on the side. Leslie visualizes her victory, but she doesn’t have the votes yet so she must parade around town and repeat her precisely-timed stump speech and shoot off t-shirt cannons to sway any fence-sitters. At one location, her preparations are tossed aside when she’s asked to comment on Nick Newport Sr., Bobby’s father. She slams the former Sweetums CEO for exploiting the townspeople and calls him a jerk, only to be informed by the same reporter that she was asking for comment on Nick Newport’s death. Now baffled, she’s unable to spin her out-of-context bashing and Jenn Barkley demands Leslie suspend all her campaign events to pay respect to the Newport family.

Off on a separate mission are Tom, Donna and Ron who need to negotiate with Bill Butler of BBB Auto Rental about lowering the price point for a fleet of vans to chauffeur seniors on voting day. His sudden price hike is a result of the Newport campaign offering $10,000 to park them somewhere so that Leslie can’t use them. Considering they expected a $900 charge, the new mark seems unmanageable. Mike O’Malley plays Bill Butler with just the right balance of snark and sinister (and he’s sans ball cap!). Interesting tidbit, O’Malley was second in the running for the role of Ron Swanson, so to see them play off each other is delightful. I can’t imagine anyone but Nick Offerman since he owns the part, but O’Malley’s sarcastic, stubborn and simple-minded “swagger” fits the Pawnee universe like a glove.

Chris and Andy both have sidebars that offer up the yucks. Chris Traeger is so self-aware about the mechanics of his body and psyche that he knows he’ll spiral into an abyss if he doesn’t keep moving. Without the stimulation of exercise, or some task, he’ll dwell on his tough year in love. April—who appears to be an bounty of advice lately—tries to play down his depression since the girls he’s sulking over weren’t the prizes he perceives them to be. For once, April’s newfound perspective is to no avail and Chris bikes furiously beside the tour bus to avoid death.

Andy’s plot is the polar opposite on the epic spectrum. His persona, FBI agent Burt Macklin returns to solve the case of the projectile pie. While Leslie is leaving an event, a pie struck Jerry in the face (because, of course), but Andy/Burt believes it was intended for the prospective councilwoman. He works tirelessly to investigate, even reenacting the altercation with Jerry. Poor guy has to be smushed several times in the face in super slow-mo to assist Andy. After staring at his board (which just has a picture of Leslie and a string leading from that photo to a picture of a pie) for hours he reassesses the video footage and determines that Leslie was too far from where the pie landed to be the target. The real objective was Ben!

Leslie continues the campaign visits (even though Ann suggested it was the wrong move) and at a reading of her children’s book Groffle The Awful Waffle, kids and reporters alike hound her about “Jerkgate” and Leslie reconsiders. She requests her friends line up by how much she trusts them—Jerry takes a step back believing he isn’t far enough away and Ben and Ann eye each other competitively as they inch closer. She decides to set up a public apology with Bobby Newport so she can hit the trail afterwards. But it blows up in their faces when they enter the gates to the Newport mega-mansion to find a memorial service being conducted, and during their attempts to turn around they run over Nick Newport…the portrait. The games and maneuvering never cease for Barkley who is not afraid to manipulate others (and she “likes” Leslie) to win. The most impressive feat might be how much Leslie has matured in the political sphere. She’s tripped up by Barkley twice in this episode alone and her composure is unflappable. Yes, there’s an air of panic, but it’s not responded to nonsensically or without forethought, which was her often her folly  in the parks department. Now we see less of a spaz freakout and more of a fiery spill that she’s so adept at cleaning up because she channels her personal appeal: the assuring smile, the perseverance and integrity.

In private, Leslie apologizes to Bobby who’s virtually bowling. There’s the spectacular sight gag where the camera zooms out to show that he’s playing video game bowling next to his personal bowling alley—because his avatar, “the little guy” waves at him. As only she can, Leslie issues a sincere mea culpa and even consoles Bobby, who ran only to impress his dad, with a story about of her own parent where she ran track to impress her mom and despite coming in dead last she was proud anyway. Bobby then uses that story to memorialize his dad which confounds Leslie. Then he makes up for it though by quasi-endorsing Leslie, telling the press to back off because she’s super cool. It’s expected of Bobby to undermine his own success, but I saw this not as ignorance, but a gracious response to Leslie’s lack of mudslinging.

Since Ron Swanson’s sit-down was no good, Donna sits at the exit of BBB Auto Rental. As Mr. Butler tries to leave he’s blocked and bumps her car. Now, if you know the show, Donna’s Mercedes is her baby. She adores that automobile more than most people. Most people. Her devotion to Leslie Knope surpasses even that bond, and she makes the ultimate sacrifice. Donna reverses and stomps on the gas colliding with Butler’s front bumper, destroying her baby’s back. Tom and Ron claim to be eyewitnesses who saw Butler rear-end her. Instead of an insurance settlement she asks for compensation in vans. Donna’s character is the least serviced of the bunch, but when she’s allowed to stretch out it’s almost always memorable.

Chris and Burt Macklin’s threads wrap up in separately rewarding ways. Jennifer Barkley takes advantage of a still moping Chris and propositions him for sex in one of Newport’s many bedrooms not occupied by a dead body. He starts to reject her, but she suggests the campaign is over and that’s she very good and suddenly he’s game. He was in a fragile state and actress Kathryn Hahn is hot, so saddle up cowboy. Though with her penchant for scheming she could easily be playing him. The question is what could she extract or how could she spin this? Or could this be Barkley finally throwing her hands up, ready to be human again instead of an ice machine? I suspect it’s the former, simply because the formula suggests that a roadblock besides the voting populace will manifest itself in the finale.

Burt Macklin was easily the most purely silly aspect of the episode. He confronts Sewage Joe (a frequent creeper at city hall who was fired earlier in the seeing for sending penis pics to female coworkers) about his attempted pie-ing, and it’s every bit the welcome break in the tense (though still amusing and whimsical as hell) political proceedings. As Andy brags about how he caught Joe before he could strike again, Joe unleashes his whipped cream fury anyway, smushing Ben square in the face. The perpetrator walks off in cuffs though, so Burt Macklin FBI nabs another one—sorta.

It’s hard to match the elation felt at the end of “The Debate,” which felt like every line was loaded with laughs, ready to erupt upon deploy. “Bus Tour” was more low-key in a way. Despite the frantic tone as the tour bus swerved to avoid any harmful debris thrown in the road by Jenn, we’re left off closer to the election, but we haven’t shifted much in attitude. I’m not any more secure about Leslie’s chances even after Bobby’s naive compliments. Even the supporting players have been stuck for a time. April over the course of the season has grown by leaps and bounds, but for a few weeks now she’s been doling out sterling advice free of charge. Chris in a love rut, Tom and Ann are just as donezo as last week and Ben’s still so smitten it’s stupid (but cute, obviously).

It makes sense they’re in limbo since the past few months they’ve been militantly championing their girl, but it’s noticeable how much I miss getting to just mess around without the pending election results hanging over their heads. The writing’s still sharp and I’d choose Pawnee as a destination for entertainment over most hot spots, but the foreplay, while tantalizing, is just a tease. Mentally, it’s made me insatiable for the payoff, but I’m almost as revved up for the the morning after. The faults are few and far between, but therein might lie the problem. “Parks and Rec” has hit such a rhythm that you anticipate satisfaction. But I’m ready to be wowed, and maybe even disheartened.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines

- Leslie imagining herself winning the election: “And I can see in the crowd, President Obama, smiling at me. He made it! I didn’t think he would come, but he made it! Hey buddy!”

- Burt Macklin’s codenames: His= Eagle 1; Ann=Been There Done That; April=Currently Doing That; Donna=It Happened Once in a Dream; Chris=If I Had to Pick a Dude; Ben=Eagle 2 (to which he says “Thank God!”)

- “Everybody says they care about the issues, but at the end of the day, all anyone really wants is clothing shot at them from a cannon.”

- “Anything else would be considered a classless move on par with spray-painting nipples on the Lincoln Memorial.”

- “The worst possible thing you could do is stop. Because if the campaign stops, we all stop, and stopping means certain death. Who wants a panini?”

- Donna: “Everyone will see your logo, which is…you all pressed up on some chick with huge cans.” Bill Butler: “Yeah, it was a hell of a day. People need to know about it.”

- “Quit ducking the waffle question, did Groffle use a boat of some kind?” “Are we to assume he swam across the syrup river?”

- Ben’s nerdy allusion to Star Wars: “It’s a trap!”

- “First of all, dark places are awesome.”

- “Now I get it, my dad and your mom are dicks!”

- Bill Butler: “What about you, Mr. A Man’s Word is Sacred?” Ron: “Well it is, but you’re an asshole.”

Leslie (Amy Poehler) faces off against poll-leading Bobby Newport (Paul Rudd) in a debate.

I wouldn’t begrudge anyone who feels that season four of “Parks and Recreation” just isn’t as uproariously funny as it used to be. My counterargument would be, you’re right, it’s a hell of a lot funnier.

Though I’m no student of comedy—I’ve taken a sketch comedy class, but my forte is fiction—I know that a large percentage of what makes something funny is by how much it surprises you. That would be the “I’m Ron F**king Swanson” moments. In the early going, we weren’t as familiar with these characters, but we knew what made them stand out. Then when the writers fleshed out those quirks, developed backstories and provided them with dimension, we all fell in love with the Pawnee parks department. Now the game has changed. In season four, we no longer need those shocker quotes that make us cover our mouths because the laughs are leaping out of our chests. It’s precisely our familiarity with who these people are that makes us smile for the full 22 minutes.

Was there any doubt Leslie would knock this out of the park? Hell, was there any doubt she would underestimate the simplicity of her prospective constituents? Pawnee is infamous for being “fourth in obesity, first in friendship,” but they have to be among the the worst in critical thinking as well. They are suckers, sorry to say. But that also means they can be easily swayed when Leslie finishes with an impassioned speech that felt like a desperate football coach rallying his players at halftime. Pawnee had lost their way, and Leslie reigned them back in. They are sheep, but they’re her sheep. And while reason would say she could do much better than an city council seat in this town, she is just as irrational. And dammit, she wants it bad. As Amy Poehler (who wrote and directed this episode) so eloquently phrased it, she may “care too much” and “push too hard,”  but it’s only because she wants the best for her town. It angered her to see what she loves threatened, and Pawnee deserves better than to be beholden to a corporation when it’s individuals who give a damn like her, that make it great.

I could go on for days on that speech alone, not only in terms of its effect on the show but concerning its relevance to our current times. It’s one of those awe-inspiring moments you need to see for yourself to understand and appreciate. So for the love of all that’s holy, watch the dang episode if you haven’t already and I’ll guide you through what else made “The Debate,” and what makes this show, special.

Our cast is split, as has become the standard since the campaign began, into three factions. Chris, Ann and Tom comprise “the spin team” who handle all media inquiries during the debate. Chris’ enthusiasm for life makes him a superb addition to the team. He spun Ben’s hypothetical scenario that Leslie vomited and audibly farted on stage into “She’s literally overflowing with ideas. And speaking of methane have you heard her plan to reduce greenhouse gases?” Tom is less enthused to be working with Mr. Traeger since Ann and him are kaput after he gave her an inappropriate shoutout on The Douche’s radio show. As I predicted (that faint trumpet you hear is me tooting my own horn), Chris makes a move on Ann, but she seems to think he’s romanticizing what their three-month relationship was really like.

Tom sabotages his co-spinners with his negative answers and Ann pulls him aside. Obviously, he’s bitter about the breakup, but Ann’s right to call him an ass. Tom takes the advice April gave earlier and admits that it’s an act, and that he needs to “cut out the swagger” as April had put it. He speaks from his heart and shares that she makes him nervous because she’s so out of his league, but that he would do anything to get back together. By the end, Ann rejects both Chris and Tom, maybe only because she needs to stop dating for like, ever. She has had a lot of rotten luck.

The development that most excited me though was that they went back to the well of putting Tom and April’s heads together. Come to think of it, they both have fronts—Tom’s is flashy, April’s is disinterested—because caring isn’t cool. April comes clean, telling Tom that she cares about Andy, Champion, Leslie winning and sleeping, and I’d be psyched if they continue to feed off each other and grow as a result. Both are lovable when they choose to be, so it’d be great to see them open up, let people in, and expose their true selves. Reading that, it seems more sitcom-y then most “Parks” material, but when you have so many people who are easy to root for, why not give them a chance at victory.

April, Andy and Ron are in charge of the donors’ viewing soiree at April and Andy’s place. Trying to fit in, Andy makes phony claims about his “investments” and April does her hysterical rich person laugh. Ron gives a frank and deliberate introduction and Andy realizes he forgot to pay the cable bill, so watching the debate would prove rather difficult. While April tries to talk to the cable company (a nod to fellow NBC comedy, 30 Rock, their provider is CableTown), Andy reenacts scenes from his favorite movies: Roadhouse, Rambo and Babe. Of course. His rendition of Babe has his audience captivated and leaves Donna in tears. My favorite part is when Ron saves the day by stealing someone’s cable. Him strapping on his tool belt, climbing up the telephone poll and pressing himself up against it so he can hide from passing cop cars was a treat. It didn’t hurt that he sang a spirited few lyrics from “Wichita Lineman” either. Anytime Ron can show off his assorted handyman skills is preferable, in my opinion.

Leslie, however, and her fellow debaters dominate this episode. Paul Rudd does an extraordinary job of filling the role without overdoing it and drowning out small players like moderators Perd Hapley and Joan Calamezzo, and the ripped-from-the-headlines fringe candidates. Poehler’s SNL background was evident here as she indirectly parodied some of the more laughable Republican hopefuls that we’ve watched extensively over the past year. There’s Fester Trim (played by Friday Night Lights vet Brad Leland), a gun enthusiast and owner of Gunbelievable Gun Emporium who has a plan for assault rifle vending machines. Sure you do. There’s also Brandi Maxxxx, an adult film star who continually stains Leslie’s reputation during the debate by comparing herself to Leslie. Lastly, there’s Manrico Della Rossa, an animal rights activist who equates rubbing your hands on a leather jacket to murder. Poehler’s direction capitalized on the episode’s format with sharp cuts between random snippets from each candidate that out of its proper context sound ludicrous—such as Bobby struggling to pin down his favorite James Bond, “Daniel Craig! No, Timothy Dalton.”

Jennifer Barkley seems confident going in that Bobby is in a win-win scenario. Either he’s able to speak coherently and not cry and the pundits say he did surprisingly well (probably a reference to the low expectations of Sarah Palin in the VP debates of 2008). There’s also the possibility he crashes and burns and he earns the public’s sympathy. She isn’t far off when Leslie opens by saying Bobby wants to “buy your vote” and the audience turns on her when he says the soundbite,” hurt his feelings.” He follows up saying, “I want do a good job because I like it when people think I do a good job.” This gets a raucous reaction from the crowd and Ben is dumbfounded. Barkley alludes to a “surprisey wisey” and Bobby undoubtedly does deal a big blow. He claims that because Leslie has an anti-business agenda, Sweetums, Pawnee’s premier provider of candy and jobs, might move to Mexico.

Ben, as her advisor, suggests she cut her losses and not risk hurting her image anymore by attacking him. But Leslie has that look in her eye, that burning desire to seize what she wants and bulldoze over anyone that stands in her path. So as her boyfriend, Ben assures Leslie that she can crush him. And wow, did she crush him. Like his little juice box. Even Bobby can only exclaim, “Holy f**k, Leslie, that was awesome.” The most salient point he’d made all night.

Afterwards, during the celebration, Bobby runs over to Leslie yelling “We did it!” and he invites her to his dad’s lake house for an after party. When Ann, Ben and Leslie all look back at the camera in disbelief it’s an amazing comedic move that also works as an indicator of how, as always, the show reflects the audience’s investment. We feel what these people feel and vice versa. It’s a rare feat in any T.V show, but even rarer for a comedy, to achieve this level of intimacy. Sweetness may have been the strength of “The Debate,” instead of astonishing us with its onslaught of killer lines—though there was plenty of material for me to weed through for L.O.L.Ls— but it was triumphant, soulful and spectacular. It may not have been what you were expecting, but it’s just what the doctor ordered. Some of my favorite lines were more adorable than amusing. When Tom told Ann, “Vote for me, to be your boyfriend” it was too frickin’ cute. And when LesBen repeated “I love you and I like you” to each other I couldn’t suppress my “Awwwws.”

Amy Poehler’s script took an impossibly pivotal moment and surpassed any expectations with a genuinely moving and touching take on politics, and proved yet again how loyal and dutiful the “Parks and Recreation” team is to the Pawnee parks team. I am unashamed to say that even if it wasn’t the funniest, I’ve felt more during and for this season than I’d imagined I could. So while no particular scene surprised the hell out of me and made me fall out of my seat laughing, what did sneak up on me was how much that didn’t matter.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines

- Ben: “You can debate Newport in your sleep.” Leslie: “I have.” Ben: “I know. We sleep in the same bed, it’s been hell.”

- Ben: “You are going to rip his spine out with your teeth, chew it up and gargle with it.” Leslie: “I love it when you’re needlessly disgusting.”

- “I recently invested in some shirts I got at a garage sale. Left those at Wendy’s on the way home. Ha, the economy.”

- “Hello, you are here because you gave us money. Now, we will give you ribs. Also, you will watch the debate. If you like the debate, you will give us more money. That is all. Ron Swanson.”

- Brandi Maxxxx, the adult film star: “And just like Leslie, I know what it’s like to be in a room full of men.”

- “Little Bobby, I’m not gonna clean your room no mas.”

- “And we all know the better looking a park is, the more attention it gets from lady parks that want to have sex with it.”

- “I’m an American, my father is an American, my mother is an American. My godfather is the viceroy of the principality of Lichtenstein.”

- “I was in favor of closing the Borders bookstore, not the border in Mexico.”

- “I guess my thoughts on abortion are, you know, let’s just all have a good time.”

- Jennifer Barkley: “Quick question. Does that Chris Traeger guy have a girlfriend, and is his penis normal?” Ben: “Stop talking.”

- “How do we fix this town? I have no idea. You tell me. That’s what I’m counting on, you telling me.”

Bradley Whitford guest stars as "Parks" pays homage to "The West Wing" after a five-week hiatus.

HAPPY DAYS ARE HERE AGAIN!

After what has been an excruciatingly long five weeks for this reviewer, and I’m sure many other fans, we’re reunited, and it feels so good. And while the other comedy I cover, “New Girl” has elevated itself in the interim, there’s no question that “Parks” is still the prima ballerina. Like it never left us, “Live Ammo” danced its way into our hearts, even delighting “The West Wing” geeks with an appearance by Bradley Whitford as soon-to-be retired Councilman Pillner. Devoted fans of the drama (one of the rare all-time greats I haven’t had the pleasure to watch beginning to end yet) were treated to Aaron Sorkin’s infamous “walk with me, talk with me”  down the hallway. Even the title of the episode, and its accompanying quote—”We play with live ammo around here”—are relics of the beloved show that set the standard for depicting the American political landscape.

The devotion for “Parks” is just as fierce though, and I’m sure expectations were high for how strong these characters would come back. Funny thing is, I’d forgotten how much the people I thought I knew had changed. Ann and Tom are still dating and she’s even spending time at his place. Granted, it’s mostly because he outfits the space with every amenity a woman could want. Ann is in love—with his apartment. It’s girl heaven. “He’s seriously in debt, but who cares.” And that’s all we get that addresses their situation directly. They don’t even spend any time on screen together if memory serves, but no news might be good news for Tom since he always seems to be his own saboteur.

April seems to have made the most drastic shift as she is now running the parks department in lieu of Leslie. She may not be prepared, but she’s motivated. The very thought of April showing passion for anything is frightening, but the writers have done a superb job of making her evolution gradual and organic this season. She still has little patience for people, and in her meeting she resorts to name calling, but when Leslie needs a boost in PR, she devises her own plan. Tom had inspired her earlier, reminding her that Leslie gets so much out of the job because she puts so much in. If she can find a passion project, she just might take pride in what she does. It’s shocking to see April enact any initiative considering she studied at the Ron Swanson School of Stalling, and yet there she goes organizing a pet adoption in one’s Pawnee’s finest parks.

Now why does the Knope campaign and the parks department desperately need an influx of good press? Well, during her power stroll with Councilman Pillner she asks him to find another area to cut in the annual budget since the current proposal takes 8% off parks. Her pitch is soild, a picture of a sweet girl who flourishes in five of the parks programs, and they are all that separates her from a destiny of stripping, or prostitution, or general debauchery. Pillner’s sold so he strikes down another program. What program you ask? Oh, just an animal shelter.

Her opponent, Bobby Newport’s hotshot advisor, Jennifer Barkley (played wonderfully by Kathryn Hahn), jumps all over this. On “Final Word with Perd” she brands Leslie a dog murderer and even Perd Hapley is convinced by her menacing tone. Ben had warned her that any moves she makes to advocate for parks could be a liability, but you can’t take the parks department out of Leslie, and he knows that. Damage control is a necessity though as little girls begin to call the campaign complaining they can’t sleep for fear that Leslie will kill their doggies. Yikes.

While April helps the restore the image of the parks department, Leslie goes overboard like only she can by adopting a slew of cats and dogs, plus a pig. Aware this cannot be their end game, LesBen conjures up another program that might replace the animal shelter as expendable. Leslie stumbles upon some “D1″ public works programs that have been inactive for two years and Pillner accepts. Animal shelter stays, AND parks budget stays intact. LesBen begins to lay back and relax, comparing themselves to the Obamas (Ben humorously realizes that he is the Michelle in this pairing), but not for long. Ann bears the bad news that Pillner expanded on Leslie’s proposed cuts and slashed even more “D1″ programs which includes Ann’s position. WHAAAAAAT?!

Frustration sets in for April after only giving away one dog despite the efforts of Jerry and Donna. Jerry cleaned the cages of poop and Donna made up labels with photos and fake personal histories (lots of them saved people from burning buildings). Then, a lady drops off two unwanted cats and bolts. Now stuck with more animals than she started with, she angrily chases the lady down. The next day she doesn’t show up to the office and Tom decides to provide her with some perspective. Seriously, when did these characters become so mature? If any two characters on “Parks” were stunted in their growth it was April and Tom, but this season they’re breaking through their stubborn qualities. April’s now motivated to be kind and do good, and Tom is able to be sincere without promoting a product or making some douchey come-on. Progress people. Anyway, in Tom’s touching scene he lifts April up by imparting some of Leslie’s wisdom: you work for that 2% of the time where you feel rewarded. One elated girl is loving a puppy who would have had no one otherwise. That’s the job. Even April can’t resist a smile after that.

For Leslie, her options are quickly lessening, and will it would seem like she’ll have to either sacrifice principle or her campaign to save her best friend’s job, but she invents a seemingly impossible third option. It’s sounds dangerous because it’s called “political suicide,” but she’ll actually come out fairly unscathed after falling on her sword. Truthfully, it’s ingenious and props to the writers for this. They clearly studied their “West Wing.” Her plan is to offer Jennifer the idea that Bobby Newport funds the animal shelter with his personal fortune. That way the parks budget doesn’t get cut and Ann keeps her job. In return, Jennifer must stop running “puppy killer” ads. And to cover her tracks, to ensure Jennifer doesn’t go back on her word, she promises to cut the parks budget herself so that she comes off as tough, fair and self-sacrificing, therefore undercutting the goodwill the Newport campaign will garner for its philanthropy. On the surface, it looks like Leslie gets very little while she hands Newport a surge in the polls on a silver platter. But she’ll let him win this week. Next week, they have a debate, and he must open his mouth. Leslie’s confident she’ll tear him a new one. This is precisely how Leslie can play politics and not lose herself.

Off in the background, yet somehow stealing the show, were Ron and Chris. Seeking a replacement for Ben as assistant city manager, Chris informs Ron that he’s a finalist for the position. Ron’s both unenthused and thrilled. Any job in government is considered despicable to him, and yet he can use his influence to cut wasteful government spending (he suggests his first measures will be to take down traffic lights and dismantle the post office). Chris then invites Ron to meditate with him. Ron accepts although the idea sounds stupid—the need to wear yoga pants might have tipped him over the edge—and Ann warns him that he’ll want to die. But Ron does not shy away from a challenge and endures the six-hour meditation. With Ron Swanson badassery, he stands the entire time, having not a single thought.

When Ron expresses his disinterest, Chris acknowledges that he figured he wouldn’t enjoy it. The simple act of accepting his invitation proved that he was not as inflexible a coworker as he thought, and he’s now earned his spot as assistant city manager. Ron gleefully accepts and then goes to devour a meat cone. I was amped at the prospect of a Ron/Chris pairing. They’re such philosophical opposites that it’s a recipe for comedic splendor, especially with Nick Offerman and Rob Lowe’s utter dedication to their roles. My excitement is short-lived though when another councilman discretely notifies Chris that he’s on the chopping block if Bobby Newport wins. Chris then immediately resorts to one of his ruts and Ron helps him cope with his brand of solution—whisky. Averse to positive thinking, it irks him to even attempt, but he prompts Chris to consider the upsides. Ron sees it as an opportunity to free himself from an entity that sucks the lifeblood from hard-working people. Chris, however, sees Ann through the windows and his worries dissipate.

Between Chris’ discovery about his job insecurity and the impending debate, the stakes are higher than they’ve ever been. And is that last smile at Ann indicative of a potential love triangle? As improbable as it may seem, Tom and Ann are happy, and I don’t want to see Tom hurt. But Chris’ moping certainly doesn’t sit well with me either. This wonderful dichotomy of pure joy and serious consequence is as admirable as it gets for a supposed workplace sitcom. It’s this ambitious aim that puts it head and shoulders above other funny half-hour retreats, even when it disappears for a while. I threw my head back in laughter at their hysterical observations while I also bit my nails anticipating what fate might befall my friends. I’m overcome with enthusiasm and relief now that we get to play in Pawnee for a few more weeks! A 5-star return.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines

- “Our department is the only thing between her and a life of tube tops, tribal tattoos, and barfing in hot tubs.”

- “All due respect Mrs. Ludgate, but do you even know what you are doing here?”  ”All due respect Mr. Hampsterpenis, but no, I don’t.”  ”My last name is Giles.”  ”Are you sure? Because you look like a hamster penis.”

- “Chris, I feel I should remind you that I do not believe the position nor government should exist. That said, you’d be a fool not to pick me.”

- Leslie to Ben: “I’m just really into you. Gimme a spin!”

- Tom enjoys naming drinks: “Beer-yonce, beer in a sexy ass mug.” “Jay-Zima, they bought a whole bunch of Zima when the factory shut down.”

- “Hey honey good morning, how did you sleep, I adopted 32 cats and dogs, do you want pancakes, I need pancakes.”

- “They should be rewarded for not being people, I hate people.”

- “Hey Ben, the pig ate your noise-canceling headphones. Pigs are awesome!”

- “I know you’re just making a joke, but using a bigger bottle would be considered cheating by most of our trade publications, FYI.”

- “If you’ll excuse me, there’s a hot spinning cone of meat next door, and I plan to eat the whole thing.”

- “I mean, in the grand scheme of things, who cares? We’re all just molecules floating around in random patterns, devoid of meaning.”

- I will not let you return to a life of shaving wieners and dodging knife attacks from meth heads!”

Sean Hayes guest stars as Buddy Wood, an Indianapolis talk show host itching to speak with Leslie about her campaign.

My man crush on Nick Offerman reached unhealthy levels after last night’s episode, because it was he who penned the script, his first of the series. Considering the commanding screen presence and comedic intuitiveness displayed in his portrayal of the manly, meat-loving libertarian, I shouldn’t have been surprised, but by and large his proficiency for character authenticity did not miss a beat, and may have even surpassed that of his peers as he was able to allot equal yucks to each his beloved cast members.

We drop in on Leslie as she’s picking out an outfit  for an interview with Indianapolis’ number one talk show host, Buddy Wood. The last five city council candidates to appear on his program have won their respective elections and after the events of last week, where she was out-dueled by Kathryn Hahn, she could use the boost in good pub. But in a strange turn, Leslie is the one wanting to kick back, trying on horrendous attire like leather pants that say “Nympho” across the butt (Tom says it’s a “maybe”) and Ben is wound-up tighter than…well, those nympho pants. Almost immediately after his departure, Ben calls to say the interview has been cancelled. Following this news, a surprisingly stable Tom and Ann (who have been together for thirty-eight hours straight, only nine hours share of their personal best) encourage Leslie to loosen up. Leslie’s gun-ho and suggests they go out drinking to capitalize on her pre-interview adrenaline. As a fan, I was immediately giddy because I knew this meant more drunken misadventures, which have never disappointed (see: Snake Juice).

Andy studies for his Women’s Studies final at the community college with the help of Ron and April. Initially terrified of the oral exam, he wants to fake sick, but Ron insists that’s not how grownups deal with tough situations. So he grits his teeth and buckles down, regurgitating feminist theory with an almost robotic efficiency, which may be due to the Cheetos (or treats) he receives with every right answer. I adored watching Andy speak with alacrity about Laura Mulvey and her paper on the male gaze in cinema. It was a paper I read last semester in my gender studies course, and it established an immediate connection to the script, and was impressed by Offerman’s aptitude in incorporating this complex theory for comedic effect. Andy’s thorough review of the material pays off, considering how over prepared he ended up being for a Pass/Fail exam. To celebrate he invites his professor, Linda, to join him, Ron and April for dinner, adding another silly feminist joke about how he’ll “let her pay for her own food, because of equality.”

The tertiary plot is an inert one, but a laugh riot. Jerry is stuffing envelopes for Leslie at a shocking pace, and Donna simply stares in amazement, canceling a date just so she can watch Jerry in his element. To see him perform even a menial task with this level of competency is quite baffling, but the combined absurdity is what keeps it fresh each time we return to it. When this thread is clipped by Jerry realizing he’d been inserting the wrong flyer the whole time, it renews our love/contempt for Jerry, who even when he’s rolling, is prone to messing up. And his eagerness to repeat the process just fascinates and delights all the more.

Leslie’s inevitable drunkenness from fiery tequila shots is a short-lived thrill for her as Ben calls to alert her that Buddy Wood’s flight is delayed, so he will have time to squeeze in an interview. This induces a panic in Leslie, but as she’s proven time and time again, she is cool as a cucumber under pressure. Her clutch, flu-ridden performance in a speech to potential donors for the Harvest Festival was the stuff of legend. Leslie pulling out the “W” here, was a given. Except Buddy Wood wasn’t interested in highlighting an ambitious candidate. He’s out for the dirt. Like most of P&R’s satire, they nailed this particular lampooning of the instigative media, who often tries to stir up negative emotions in their subjects, hoping for scandal. Wood badgers her about the decrepit conditions of the municipal airport, insults the townspeople by calling them sad, and won’t back down when he introduces Ben and their prior scandal of an affair at work. Leslie furrows her brow and insists upon a topic change, but her pride in Pawnee overcomes her will to appear sober, and she blurts out that she’s had a couple drinks. Like a kid at Christmas, Wood is jittery about the journalistic gold he’s just discovered.

At the restaurant, April notices that Chris is at the bar alone (reading “Limb-itless,”  a story of a women who tried to swim across an ocean with no arms or legs and immediately drowned) and invites him to join, acting as matchmaker again. I’m starting to really become enthralled with the consistent progress April makes each week toward concerted efforts to help in ways she isn’t obligated to. I assume the pattern will reveal its hidden agenda at/near season’s end, but for now it’s lovely just to see her relishing in the cognitive dissonance of being dispassionate, but compelled to take care of her friends.

Presumably, Chris and Linda hit it off. He is well-versed in feminist thought, and she shares his enthusiasm for physical health. Ron simply sits back as spectator with his three Porterhouse steaks. When Chris makes his move and asks Linda on a date, she declines saying she just got out of a tough relationship. Chris, with his sunny disposition is undeterred, believing that they can reconnect at another time. After all, he is the microchip. But alas, when Ron suggests that he still has room left for after-dinner omelets at J.J’s, Linda whispers that he should go to her place instead. And the paradoxical legend that is Ron Swanson continues. Though it isn’t a simple sitcom switcheroo. With how strong women have shaped Ron’s life, he just may be the most vehement, if not silent feminist. And there’s just no denying the sex appeal that comes with that man’s affinity for chowing down on cow.

Ron comes in to work the next day, his usual post-sex Bizarro Ron, offering up donuts and wearing power red like Tiger Woods on Sundays. But Andy reminds his mentor that as a grownup he must deal with tough situations (then Andy eventually remembers aloud that Ron was the wise man who told him that). So he approaches Chris and apologizes for his carnal instincts and Chris excepts, but not without a throwaway remark of how lonely he is. I’ve enjoyed Chris’ vulnerability, but must admit that my pity for him might where thin, seeing as he hasn’t done much to help himself (and oddly un-Chris behavior).

In a frenzied attempt to steal back the tape and prevent a catastrophic blow to Leslie’s election hopes, Tom conjures up the hot tub limo and they motor over to Indianapolis. In a manner apropos of this week’s title, Wood’s bags were lost and the tape with it, and any proof of Leslie’s on-air inebriation is in the ether. Of course, the perceived luck isn’t so at all. Karma is enacted by the Pawnee Municipal Airport employees, who in response to Buddy’s petty jabs at their livelihoods, decided to accidentally dispense of Wood’s belongings in the dumpster. It’s a fitting tribute to Leslie, and to the sprit of Pawnee. Nothing Wood said was inaccurate. Pawnee is out of date, and frankly a depressing place to live for anyone looking to launch into the 21st century. But Pawneeans are loyal people. They may be misguided, fat, and perhaps even corrupt, but they stand by their own. And it is because Leslie is the sharpest and most capable representation of their best selves that they will likely vote her councilwoman.

The precedent set last week of immovable walls, held up this week. Campaigning is a tedious process, one not often rife with giggles, but grim reality. And if not for the dedication to the quirks of the players involved, the series could have come to a grinding halt. But by sticking to the old adage of “show don’t tell” we have been able to witness the unravelings and the improbable regenerations of Leslie’s dreams materializing time and time again. We know her like a sister, a fellow compatriot, a champion of what is just, and when she’s entrapped by Buddy Wood, we’re horrifed with her. They’ve constructed a gripping political thriller around the funnest, brightest souls in the fictional Midwest and damn if it doesn’t bring a smile to our faces to see her come out the other side unscathed.

Tom and Ann haven’t fizzled out yet, but they used the volatility of their relationship to noble comedic ends by illustrating Tom as a ticking time bomb. He can be fun to be around and charming for a good streak of time, but then he buys you four dozen flavored condoms and you remember why you despise him. As Tom’s tendency for self-fulfilling prophecy goes, my tolerance for this plot goes. But with a 4-week hiatus* before us, I suppose I will have the time to learn to appreciate it.

An all-around amusing episode of “Parks” is hard to stay mad at though. Reservations about the “direction” of certain character arcs aside, it was a merry occasion. I fist pumped at Ron’s power red, I beamed at Andy’s attempts at comprehending psychoanalytic approaches to feminism, and I was awestricken by Jerry’s mechanical zeal for office work. I can’t imagine a more charismatic and dynamic candidate for the most lovable comedy on TV. For providing yet another injection of the warm and fuzzies, while maintaining biting commentary and sophomoric wit, I’ll overlook any evidence of imperfections as “Parks” earns my vote for a second straight week with its recipe of good ole, homegrown fun, with hints of sweetness and zest. A.

*Let’s have a moment of silence to mourn. “Parks and Recreation” will not return until April 19th. God help us all as try to find solace in these troubling times.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines

- “If there’s one thing I know it’s…my fantastic…it’s talk.”

- “You know who the president of the Boring Club is?” “Me?” “Nope, you lost the election because your speech was too boring.”

- “He’s like a strict mother I’m confusingly attracted to—Ben is like a MILF.”

- “If they got together, they would make a Superbaby. But what if Superbaby got too powerful?”

- “I’ve never had a boyfriend threaten to commit arson for me before!” “Eh, it gets old.”

- “Here, you kids go buy yourself a Walkman. How much does a Walkman go for these days?”

- “I’m quite lonely.” “Aw f**k.”

- “Don’t punish me, I took a risk!”

Leslie (Amy Poehler) and Ben (Adam Scott) looking panicked after losing the senior citizen vote.

Sitcom characters don’t usually hit a snag for more than 22 minutes. It’s common knowledge. In fact, I spoke of it just last week when I mentioned the tried-and-true formula for sitcom watchability. Other than a unvarying structure, sitcoms provide us with what life rarely grants us: a neat resolution.

Few individuals are privileged enough (or frankly spoiled enough) to come out of most snafus without dissatisfaction. Hence why we turn to stories. We live vicariously through proactive characters who take just enough risk to mess up big, but have enough support and fortitude to cleanly rectify their mistakes. I don’t believe these sorts of tales are more or less valid. Truthfully, I’ve been on a “Boy Meets World” kick of late because today’s family TV programs steer away from morality. People are afraid to come down firmly on how children should be raised, or how teens should be taught about sex, in favor of embracing diversity and avoiding offense. The 90s, were a different time.

My point is that now we live in a time where uncertainty is infectious. Over at The AV Club they posted an article just a few days before The Academy Awards discussing how all nine nominees for Best Picture, in one way or another, confronts our scary future. And if art is a reflection of the society that spawns it, then Leslie Knope’s futility versus Washington hotshot Jennifer Barkley (Kathryn Hahn) this week was not only poignant and funny, but a rough portrait of our current cultural anxieties.

Don’t worry though, the episode itself doesn’t come off nearly that self-aggrandizing. The main takeaway from “Campaign Shake-up” is that complacency can not be afforded. Despite a surge in the polls, with Leslie just 15 points behind Bobby Newport (distancing herself from Pawneean porn star Brandi Maxxxxxx), Newport’s monetary advantage looms large. His daddy hires Jennifer Barkley, a consummate pro who has eaten egg salad with the likes of Colin Powell, who seeks to snuff out their fiery hot streak.

After her initial play of attacking Leslie’s lovable childhood aspirations commercial (seen in “Campaign Ad”), her next maneuver is to steal “the gray vote” by securing the endorsement of Pawnee Seniors United president Ned Jones (played by TV legend Carl Reiner). LesBen had acquired his support with their “Ramp Up Pawnee” initiative, basically a plan to make Pawnee more handicap-accessible since “stairs are a young man’s game.” Jen one-ups their idea with her conception of “Raise Up Pawnee,” an installation of electric lifts next to every staircase. While of course Leslie’s plan is more practical and cost-effective, the seniors are easily impressed by the gadgetry and Ned Jones officially endorses Bobby Newport.

Over at City Hall, Chris expresses concern that the Parks Department is undermanned with Leslie reducing her hours. Considering she did the work of four men, this is a legitimate concern. As a result we are treated to Ron’s absurd, yet endearing in its staunchness, anti-government stance once again.  Fearful of adding another employee to the mix, Ron appoints Ann Perkins (pronouncing her name right and everything!) to spearhead a cross-department project between the Health and Parks departments to fix the water foundations. What’s wrong with the water fountains? Well, the quirky folks in Pawnee put their mouth on the spouts when they drink. The project’s aim is to redesign the fountains so that the disgusting habit is impossible.

With Andy as her test subject (and a perfect illustration of the average Pawnee resident), Ann leads a brainstorming session. Jerry suggests a cage over the nozzle, but Andy rips it off. Tom suggests replacing fountains with “water butlers” and is immediately rejected. On a side note, Tann (Tom and Ann) only gets a brief instance of relevance when Tom gloats that his idea will receive preferential treatment because him and Ann are “romantically intertwined.” I was glad to see that emphasis on their relationships was waned significantly, but it also didn’t address the issue of its legitimacy so the Catch-22 of inconsequence and importance continues for yet another week, much to my minor dismay.

April contributes to the brainstorm at first by provoking a water fight by spraying Ann, redirecting the fountain flow. Consequently, when Ron escorts Chris to the department to prove his progress on a major project, they witness the escalation from playful splashing to full-scale aquatic warfare. Andy caps their distraction by attacking Chris as a water balloon kamikaze (he has fashioned a vest of water balloons out of duct tape), easily the best bit of slapstick of the episode. Chris Pratt always nails that particular area of “Parks” comedic repertoire.

LesBen panics over losing Ned’s endorsement, realizing that Jennifer is simply better than they are. Every measure they take, she will have a countermeasure. Leslie, despite assuring Ben she has the utmost confidence in his strategies, decides to go directly to the source. When she meets up with Jen, she admits that she would rather Leslie win, but it’s her job to win, and she’s damn good at it. But because she “loves to play chess” and believes she is her own best opponent, Jen gives her a strategy, suggest a shuttle service for seniors. Leslie agrees it’s genius, but when she pitches it to Ben, he reasons that Jen is too in their heads, manipulating them. As much as I love Leslie, and want her to succeed and believe she would be the best thing for Pawnee, its fun to see her and Ben squirm. As much as a Leslie triumph has become this show’s staple, this show has become one of possibility. And by introducing this giant hurdle, not only does it provide a challenge that would payoff HUGELY if they could overcome it, but the writers make sure they’re challenged as well, solidifying them as the freshest in network comedy, by far.

The ending showdown between Leslie and Jen on Perd Hapley’s “Final Word with Perd” (oh excuse me, Perdrick L. Hapley) was brilliant. Jen combats Leslie’s jabs about Bobby gallivanting through Europe with floozies with such finesse, it was like watching MJ play with the flu in the NBA Finals. She counters that he was striking a deal with a European company to build a factory in Pawnee. It’s total BS. But it doesn’t matter. The sting of Leslie’s venomous rebuttal is gone from voters’ minds. While Perd is clueless as to what happened on his own show (contributing no probing questions for either side), Leslie sulks at the bar, wanting to drink away her shortcomings, aware that her drive and tireless work ethic may not be enough. This is a foreign feeling for her, and her storyline this week while filled with intermittent giggles, didn’t leave us with a warm and fuzzy feeling. But I have faith that it’s being stored away for a fourth quarter finish that will swell inside me to the point where I might burst.

Not all is lost, however. April continues her trend of rising to the top of the “Parks” achievement heap yet again with her simple yet elegant solution: remove the splashguard so no one can put their mouth on it. Chris’ worries that the group lacked cohesion and leadership are abandoned, and Ron asks April to take some of Leslie’s load. Though reluctant to do things, Ron taught her the art of inaction and delay, Ron woefully convinces April that her need to test her potential exceeds the need to stall government activity for him, therefore appointing her as Leslie’s fill-in for now.

I like that I’m clueless about where April’s arc is heading. Leslie seems destined for a come-from-behind victory where she makes a sacrifice of some sort (either involving Ben or the Parks department) to win the election, but April’s continued evolution is a mystery. She has begun to care for others’ happiness, and is even putting her brain to productive use. To what end? I’m not saying the character herself is conscious of where she is headed, but the show seems intent on providing her with responsibility, and showcasing her redeeming qualities. I sure hope she isn’t leaving the show for greener pastures. Not only does Andy not deserve that kind of pain, but neither do I!

While Paul Rudd was off promoting his movie, Kathryn Hahn was an awesome addition this week. She’s frank in her deviousness, and you have to admire her thorough, near impenetrable research. It’s reminiscent of Leslie’s superwoman qualities, while not being a re-tread, but a worthy foil. The LesBen dynamic was delightfully rendered this week, particularly when Leslie would compliment Ben for his attractiveness, but perhaps overemphasized his small stature to the point where Ben became insecure. It’s relatable, while still totally unique to these two people, a sweet balance to accomplish. Ron earns my MVP though for his stubborn reactions to change and his depiction of impossible choices through an anecdote about his sixth birthday (check out L.O.L.Ls).

With one episode remaining before a month-long break, “Campaign Shake-up” returned to the main thrust of the season with a stylish blend of gravity and levity. We watch the Parks department grow sillier and yet fuller in Leslie’s absence, and Leslie’s campaign encounters its first insurmountable foe, reminding us why we want Leslie to win. Because she is going to deserve it. So while we, the commoners, might not get our way though we may have earned it, Leslie will. But it won’t be as easy as twenty-two minutes of coincidence and contrivance. The conclusion will be the hard-fought accumulation of prolific labors, like tonight: an infusion of expertly tailored moments with hilariously crafted dialogue. For the return of Ron Swanson, the man and the myth, for elevating April above her role of anarchic instigator, and ensuring that like Leslie, the “Parks” team will earn our vote, I’ll gleefully go to the polls to check off “A.”

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines:

- Perd Hapley’s gems: “The first issue…is the one we’re gonna talk about.” “Now it’s time for our next segment…which is a commercial.” Also, his fascination with the concept of “a foot in a mouth” as an actual act, not as an expression.

- “You’re a brilliant, sexy, little hummingbird.” (hums suggestively)

- “Not enough ramps is the number three complaint by Pawnee seniors. Right behind, “everything hurts” and “I’m dying.”

- “Either we complete a government project, which is abhorrent to me, or we bring a new person into the department, which repulses me to my core. Reminds me of when my dad made me choose which one of my pet calves to slaughter with my own hands for my sixth birthday. I couldn’t choose, so I slaughtered both of them. And they were delicious.”

- “As a candidate I appreciate your strategic mind, but as a woman sly I care about is your slight, but powerful body.”

- Ann: “That’s the first time you’ve said my entire name correctly.” Ron: “Nonsense, we are close friends.”

- Leslie: “You’re a mangenius, with a taut, narrow frame like a sexy elf king.” Ben: Do you wish I were taller? What’s going on here?”

-”I think Ben’s already filling the Leslie void.” (high five)

Ben (Adam Scott) informs Leslie (Amy Poehler) that she "slept with" Jerry (Jim O'Heir) all night.

Subtlety can often be pretentious, but there is a reason why minutia matters.

As a writing student, I know much of the whining in workshops is oriented around how “obvious” the story is. Well, also “how well we know the main character,” but the people of Pawnee have been fleshed out for a while. “Obvious” can mean predictable, manipulative, or even bland, but it’s the perception of an overt effort to “make a point” that’s the faux pas in literary circles. The consensus is that one must write with a question in mind, not an answer.

But as CBS (and the other networks, but CBS serves as the exemplar) has suggested for decades, people like routine. Sitcoms and procedural dramas are characterized by their formulaic structure and cathartic endings. When you sit down in front of the tube on any given weeknight you’re sure that you will walk away satisfied because you found out who the killer was, or because the children learned their lesson. In literature, this is lazy; it’s understood that each story should be evaluated as an opportunity to cut a fresh slice out of life. Now, I can’t be sure that if I sneakily submitted a “Parks and Rec” script as my next draft folks would fully embrace it, but I believe the show does embrace the core of why subtlety is championed. When a message is explicitly conveyed it doesn’t allow for a range of interactions with the “text.” Nuance and finesse, however, can allow for a spectrum of reactions.

This is wherein comedy can achieve excellence. Laughs, although discriminatory, are easy. They are reflexes, engrained in us unconsciously, and often we immediately regret or find shame in what we laugh at. But when one is reduced to a coughing fit, or any other ostentatious displays like knee-slapping, clapping, snorting, that’s a genuine expression of connectivity to the art. That’s not something you can churn out every week through some kind of chuckles equation. It takes care and dedication, and when I notice the “Parks” writers employing such details with confidence, you know you’ve been struck by a story thats worth telling, and yet shows merit simply in how it’s told.

That said, Sweet Sixteen wasn’t the strongest or the most memorable episode, but it’s one of many exceptionally executed chapters in a masterpiece work. As mentioned up top, the minutia mattered this week. Like when Andy answered that 64 divided by four is 64 while everyone else blurted out 16. Or when Ron asked Donna if this was all the eggs she had, and when she asked what he was making he replied, “Eggs.” Or how about a classic “What the f**k” delivered by Andy when Chris popped up to give him more tips in canine care. The list goes on, and not even the L.O.L.Ls section could adequately house the prolific amount of details that all served comedic purpose.

The plot tonight, much like that of Operation Ann, is highly unoriginal and so recycled it’s eco-friendly. Leslie is frazzled, but it’s never just that. She’s a catalyst for situations that bring out the eccentricities of them all. This time she’s overworking herself clocking 50 hours at the Parks Department, 50 for her campaign and still finding time to volunteer for Wheels for Meals on Wheels (they repair vans for Meals on Wheels). Ron insists she take a sabbatical, but her tireless work ethic is at odds with her biological need to slow down. As a result, she has become uncharacteristically negligent. Her most recent slip-up being that she forgot Jerry’s birthday. Another stellar detail: Jerry’s birthday is February 29. How perfect? The most undervalued worker gets a celebration only ever four years, brilliant. As her atonement, Leslie resolves to throw him a surprise “Sweet Sixteen” party at Donna’s lake house. But in her rush to make amends, she forgets to invite Jerry, only serving to stroke Ron’s ego as he anticipates her downfall.

After Tom bought himself some time to woo her last week, Ann briefly becomes the object of Tom’s disdain. She violates number three of his “Oh No Nos” list, a lack of appreciation for 90s R&B, when she is unfamiliar with Donna’s cousin and recording artist, Ginuwine (I remember him in the 2000s as the crooner who released the single, “In Those Jeans,” an ode to curvy women who leave little to the imagination when they squeeze into tight denim). Tom then worries that she may be utterly repulsive to him aside from her stunning beauty. Through relentless questioning he uncovers disturbing disagreements between them, forcing Ann to rattle of her own list (from which I will draw upon some L.O.L.Ls below). Caught in the middle is April, who “inadvertently” set them up two episodes ago. Due to that kindness, she’s now forced to endure their incessant complaints. To dull her agony she drowns herself in champagne, adding Aubrey Plaza to the list of “Parks” actors with an aptitude for acting drunk.

Everyone’s favorite thrice-appendaged doggy Champion is the subject of the last subplot. Chris, still reeling from Millicent, is desperate for companionship. And when Andy asks him to watch Champion for a night they bond instantly. As expected, the microchip expertise that knows no bounds extends to dog training, and using German commands has made Champion into a…well…do I have to say it? Andy’s first response is jealousy. His German gibberish when attempting to make Champion perform for him too is hilarious. After losing Champion while trying to prove he didn’t need a leash, he earnestly relays his insecurities to Chris, who assures him that the love he provides is perfectly adequate. Chris then suggests he sing to corral the dog, and when Champion returns shows the camera the dog whistle he uses to actually coax him out. It’s a tender act that further defines Chris. Before he was just a comical exaggeration of self-determination and optimism, but amidst his misery, he has shone truthfully as a beacon of selflessness and friendship these past few weeks.

The three payoffs were unified in the superb exhibitions of ” their best selves” by those who served as crutches for their normally self-sufficient friends. Ron Swanson, for instance, offered his pearl of wisdom: “Never half-ass two things, whole-ass one thing.” Not exactly eloquent, but it’s a honest appeal to Leslie that if she really wants to be a councilwoman she needs to make sacrifices, reductions to her workload. They shake on an agreement to ten hours at P&R, and the rest of her time will be allotted to the pursuit of her dream, becoming an elected official.

Tom and Ann transforms into Tann, then Haverkins (Haverford + Perkinds), when April’s drunken admission that they were fighting over pointless topics jolted them both, making them realize that they were fishing for something wrong when they should have just be enjoying each other’s company. It was pleasant as always to see April, however reluctantly, help out the people she cares for and hates in the same breath. She’s a conundrum, but one you wish was by your side and in your life.

Andy also brings joy to another by encouraging a relationship, giving Chris permission to hang with Champion whenever he likes. The brief moment where April touches Andy’s hand, again using an extremely minor maneuver, sealed the deal. There is not only love between them, but more than tenuous bonds between all of the Parks Department team. Like with Tom and Ann, it might be easier to point out the flaws. Like with Ron and Leslie it may take time for a proper mentor/mentee dynamic to flourish; and like with Andy and Chris it may involve opening yourself up when you’d rather give off your more invulnerable self. But when Leslie, “Tann,” and Chris needed that Al-Green-esque shoulder when they weren’t strong, they answered the call.

Projecting a bit, I’m still worried about “The Haverkins situation,” but it’s an enigmatic kind of worry: my concern is that it’s harmless. Leslie’s campaign is a palpable source of tension and a well of comedic scenarios. Haverkins comes off as a fling would, inconsequential. But “Parks” doesn’t operate with the safety valve of a reset button, and everything that occurs before affects our characters going forward. While Tom and Ann’s prospects of finding love don’t have the potential to shake up the series like Leslie’s election could, it might disturb the balance of absurdity and realism that the show has so rightly earned. The episode itself was innocuous too in many ways, a detour from more pressing affairs, but due to the ways it showcased the better attributes of favorites like Ron and Andy, it’s nearly impossible to diminish my level of enjoyment. For an escape to the lake house filled with equal parts bonding and shenanigans, and prioritizing the minuscule so that it might balloon in the eyes of each viewer, I raise a glass to Jerry’s 64th birthday and to a B+ episode of the most gratifying show on television. Cheers!

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines

- “Let’s start a pool. Who wants retired and who wants dead?”

- Ron on Leslie’s belief that he will later “eat crow”: “Leslie’s the best and I’m stupid.” “That does sound like me…”

- Oh No Nos or Things about Ann that bother Tom: accepts <600 thread count sheets, has never seen a Paul Walker movie, doesn’t care about Blu-Ray, read books all the time, still has an iPad first generation and “he owns more Uggs than she does!”

- Oh No Nos or Things about Tom that irritate Ann: Talks through terrible movies he makes her watch, has 20” rims on his Volkswagen Golf and insist on being introduced as “the Brown Gosling.”

- “I was getting kind if sick of Tom and Ann talking about their relationship, but then remembered alcohol existed. (Takes swig) Thank you alcohol!”

- Ben’s half asleep, bed-haired and half-hearted “Surprise!” when Leslie walks in with Jerry in the middle of the night.

- Ron’s toast to Jerry: “Jerry’s work is often adequate.”

- Not a line, but a visual gag: Leslie’s campaign sign with a URL on it instead of the actual image

Louis C.K reprises his role as Leslie's cop ex-boyfriend Dave Sanderson (right).

Back in season two, “Parks and Recreation” was a rising star, not a comedy powerhouse. The first season elicited lukewarm feelings from viewers, and season two began to build an elaborate world where three-dimensional, imperfect yet endearing people existed. It felt like small-town America because it was hilariously inept in so many ways, but the people were just darling. When Louis C.K hitched his wagon to this runaway train to fandom he had not yet aired his avant-garde take on single fatherhood and the pathetic nature of life alone at 40, “Louie.” He was but a mildly chubby, balding red head with a penchant for speaking mechanically.

Now, after the critical community has kissed his ass en masse (myself included) for his daring perspective and auteur-iffic ambition on FX’s “Louie,” a zany yet grounded show based on his real life as a middle-aged, recently divorced standup comic; and Parks and Recreation has solidified itself as the sitcom of the moment (for those who find Modern Family’s novelty has totally worn off and doesn’t see what all these award shows do). This sort of episode contains the transformative quality of an event. We view C.K not as a guest star, but as a genius gracing us with his presence.

Both the writers, and Louie himself, exceeded expectations this week. They allotted him the parameters wherein he could run amuck; and Louie, although a gigantic scene-chomper for those who know his catalogue, blends in with Amy Poehler and Adam Scott to render the most magnificent portrait of cringe-worthy awkwardness one could fathom. And the horrifying yet hilarious part is it could happen to you. Well, if your friend was either a desperate, emotionally stunted cop or a victim of policophobia (perhaps your friend is both and is a walking paradox).

LesBen meets with Pawnee Police Chief Trumple who is retiring, so Leslie can publicize his endorsement before his replacement is sworn in. P&R blows my mind again with its affinity for continuity. Recalling Ben’s fear of policemen from early in season three, where in his nervousness he pontificates on the culinary enigma of the calzone and is thereby dubbed “Calzone Boy.” Here it’s much more transparent, wearing his intimidation on his sleeve. Leslie asks for the chief’s blessing and he invites her to attend his retirement party where he’ll make his decision. In his gratitude, Ben signs off with the caveat that cops are such heroes, “Some more than others….Oh god here it comes—” Just as he regurgitates the words “9/11,” Leslie stops him. Ben so often serves as the voice of reason and straight man of the relationship, it was refreshing to see him play looney, insecure and scattered. In the police department hallway Leslie catches the eye of Dave Sanderson (Louis C.K) who has returned from Pawnee to attend the chief’s party. Leslie blurts out that he should come to dinner with her and Ben to catch up. Immediately regretting the decision, Ben voices his acceptance, wanting to give Leslie what she needs, as always.

Tom, riding high from his date with Ann, refuses to be discreet, or in anyway downplay the situation. Ann flat out voices her embarrassment and is disgusted by his pet names (some of which include: Cookie Tush, Winnie the Boo and Annie Get Your Boo). In direct opposition to her wish that he keep their date a secret, the whole department is notified. Andy is tasked with recording Leslie’s campaign theme song, and his artistic vision (something like “We are the World,” but with more social impact) requires the rest of the group to sing backup. Double Time Studios, where they will record their track, is the same facility where Duke Silver, Ron Swanson’s jazz saxophonist persona, records. Due to his relatively legendary work, memorabilia hangs all over the premises.

As we know, Ron is a private man, who wishes to withhold any information about himself that is unnecessary to divulge. What he does with his social life is not for his employees to know. April, however, knows about him because her parents are huge fans. He assigns her with the task of covering up or destroying any Duke paraphernalia, or distracting anyone from seeing his picture. This obviously lends itself to some side-splitting physical comedy. My favorite of which is when Andy drinks a mug full of honey (he finds the tea part gross) with Duke’s, er, mug embossed on it. Panicked, April throws the mug onto the floor claiming she was channeling her rock and roll spirit. Andy gets the rare opportunity in this episode to be in his element. However, he is still dim-witted and naive Andy, so his ability to reign in and articulate his artistic vision culminates in his frustration, banging his head on the floor with the hope inspiration will come.

Dinner is deliciously awkward at the onset; they start by subtly competing with flattering remarks when the subject of her campaign comes up. Dave assures that he can procure the chief’s endorsement, and Ben uses the restroom. During that brief interlude, Dave alerts Leslie that he is still in love with her and would like a moment alone to win her over. Of course, LesBen are totally perfect for each other, so Leslie dances around his request all night. He sneakily excuses himself for some air, but Leslie won’t bite. When he leaves the table, Leslie informs Ben of the situation. Dave comes back and in his honorable and gentlemanly way, he asks Ben directly to speak with his girlfriend. The resulting exchange between the three of them had me red in the face with laughter as they try to determine who will talk with whom and in what order, each trying to assert their own selfish motivations. In some way or another, we have all been in this scenario where egos lock horns and none of the parties are willing to back down and sacrifice their emotional needs. Thankfully, the personalities on this show make the proceedings more humorous than contentious, and the underlying tension never escalates beyond an ants-in-your-pants tickle. It helps that when Dave and Ben finally do confront one another it culminates goofily with Dave handcuffing Ben to a urinal. You can’t get anxious or mad when literal bathroom humor is employed.

Unrelenting and immune to Ann’s refusals, Tom beats the dead horse and professes his desire for Ann in front of all their present friends. He also consults his “playbook,” a romantic stratagem consisting of cliches from movies. His idea to wait for her in the rain backfires, giving him the sniffles while he becomes soaked, thinking Ann would be in awe of his romantic gesture. When Tom finally levels with her, claiming he has no more gimmicks, he brings out his secret weapon: an improvised song filled with melodic apologies and a plea that she appease him with a second date. In the end, his persistence at the very least wears her down to earn him another opportunity to win her over more genuinely. Chances are he will sabotage himself again, but by entertaining the possibility they have a shot they infuse some conflict without creating uncharacteristic drama that would sacrifice the tone of the show. Ron channels the Duke for Andy, laying down a killer sax solo while he sent him off to clear his head, mixing in more of his vocals too, realizing the full potential of  ”Catch Your Dream.” April’s diligence (including hitting Jerry over the head with a cymbal when he remarks how alike Duke appearance’s is to Ron’s) also ensured that no one else determined his secret identity. I felt it was odd that they didn’t mention Tom was actually the first person from the department to discover his alter ego back in season two, but since Haverford was so preoccupied with his “boo,” I’ll allow it.

Ben calls Leslie’s cell to inform her of his lavatory imprisonment and she chastises David mildly for acting so crazed. At the retirement party, Ben secures Leslie’s endorsement by outlining her long-term plan to sustain higher pensions and benefits (in comparison, Bobby Newport would just give them short-term monetary fixes). Of course, he reverts to his phobia on a couple occasions (using contrived phrasings or letting every officer to cut ahead of him in line for the restroom), but it weaves in nicely with his typical “in the zone” moments where he is talking numbers and his social anxieties are discarded. Dave later apologizes, explaining his behavior with the sweet revelation that “she makes him crazy.” He acknowledges that as long as she is safe and happy that is all that matters. He can’t resist insulting Ben, calling him “shrimpy,” but through his over-calculated word choice, sincerity surfaces.

Oddly, Chris gets little to do here. His face conveyed he was sad when he confirmed with Tom that Ann and he had been on a date. He is fragile after breaking up with Millicent, but does he still have legimate feelings for Ann, or is he just in regret mode about all his past relationships? His one laugh worthy moment comes when Andy asks him to sing for him and he butchers “Take Me Out To The Ballgame.” The microchip could not sing his way out of a paper bag and his paraphrasing of the song’s gist would make many fans of American’s pastime cry sacrilege. If not for the added dimension of Ron’s secrecy around Duke Silver, the Andy plot would have been stale for me. As mentioned, I like allowing Andy the chance to prove his competencies, but since a campaign song feels so trivial I wasn’t actively rooting for him to come through.

And in a way, Ron’s help, though a demonstration of his affection for Andy (which he continually downplays), invalidates Andy’s efforts, taking away his spotlight. Obviously, I’m a devoted Ron F. Swanson fan, but the inconsequential nature of that story is hard to ignore. It was a nice visit from the “mature woman swooner” still, so I dug it nonetheless. Emphasizing Tom could also have proven problematic for the episode’s likability since the essence of the character is his bordering the line of insufferable tool and fun to be around, but the wrap-up where his urgency finally strikes a chord with Ann, hit the exact note they intended and made an absurd, potentially superfluous pairing seem plausible, if not for just a moment so that the doubt can seep into our minds and hook us.

Louis C.K largely negated this unimportance in the best way possible. As mentioned, his execution of this character deserves considerable props. He plays up the normal droll of his speech so that he comes off evermore blue collar and well-intentioned. His diction is deliberate (though often grammatically unsound, likely from trying too hard), but his hesitation to say exactly how he feels, for me, resonated more than any poetic delivery could have, and added to the believability that Leslie cared for him once, and why his approval of Ben would mean something. Though by the ridiculously high standards “Parks” has earned and then some, this was not an exemplary episode, the return of Louis C.K transcended its relegation as a standalone novelty, and became a pivotal moment for the series. It was a perfect storm of nostalgia and relevance that justified bringing Dave back, and validated the cult legend’s presence beyond just his demand as a insanely respected performer and artist of the moment. For reaffirming Leslie’s commitment to Ben and the campaign, revisiting the show’s roots with Louis’ Dave and the groovy tunes of Duke Silver, I can commend the approach overall, disregarding the less engaging material. I will happily endorse “Parks” as a candidate for the most charming depiction of human irrationality and the goodness it can provoke. The state of this union is an A-.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines:

- “I’m not afraid of cops. I have no reason to be. I never break any laws…because I’m deathly afraid of cops.”

- “Leslie is a female person…with whom I was involved. We had a ‘romantical’ involvement.”

- “God, that was hot nonsense.”

- “He’s a gorgeous genius, people. Don’t questions his methods.”

- “You look like I could use some company.”

- “I don’t wanna brag, but I have a ton of experience with women being mad at me.”

- “I never thought I would say this about you, son, but you may be over-thinking this.”

- “I still have feelings for Leslie, in a womanly fashion, and I believe she feels the same for me, in a manly way.”

- Ben speaking to two officers who have conflicting interests about whether he should drink or not (he shouldn’t drive intoxicated, but it’s a celebration): “Please, just tell me what to do!”

- “The four sweetest words in the English language: ‘You wore me down.’”

Ann (Rashida Jones) waits impatiently for the slew of dates Leslie (Amy Poehler) has lined up for her.

At times, “Parks and Recreation” can feel like a delightful embarrassment of riches. There are so many balls in the air that you wonder how they could possibly be juggling them all. Just as you did with the pretty, popular valedictorian in high school, you dug deep to extract that one irredeemable quality. The pivotal flaw that you could exploit to prove she doesn’t deserve the student body’s worship. Then you confront that flaw and realize that even her imperfections make her likable. Then you hate your yourself, because you aren’t pretty, popular, or smart and your flaws just repel all the attractive people.

Excluding the last sentence (I think I’m swell), this has been my relationship with “Parks” as a critic. As a fan, I have laughed my ass off, fallen in love with all the characters, and even began to prefer hanging out in Pawnee over my hometown in suburban Connecticut. As a critic, it’s counterintuitive to my very existence to unconditionally adore any TV show. That same act of extracting flaws is turned toward more productive pursuits (in my humble opinion), the analysis of what makes for effective storytelling. In the case of “Parks,” I have crammed my reviews with praise for the writers’ ability to craft and maintain multidimensional characters and how they can cultivate jokes rooted in their specific traits. Tonight’s episode, however, reminded me of Ann: quite possibly the sweetest, most charming blemish.

Leslie’s best friend and ex-girlfriend to both Chris and Andy, is largely defined by those relationships. Who she’s dating and how exemplary her friendship with Leslie is, are her major talking points. Tonight spoke to the show’s stagnation with her role, and the stagnation it can foster when she either isn’t dating someone or when Leslie’s attention is focused elsewhere: such as Ben and her campaign. But what made this episode extraordinary was that it simultaneously answered that concern with rich possibilities for self-discovery that can add to the already intricately-woven tapestry that is the Pawnee Parks Department.

It’s February 13, or as Leslie has dubbed it, Galentine’s Day: a celebration in sisterhood. The adorable concept, Leslie  takes her gal pals to brunch so that they may love themselves as women, individually and communally, but separate from the men in their lives. Obviously, this year is different. Leslie’s in love. Silly, miraculous, sickening, dreamy love. And Ann, who churns through guys like today’s teenagers do cell phones, is alone. During her “confessional” she convinces herself that she is at piece with her singlehood, and at the table she congratulates the others (Donna, Leslie’s mom, April) on their relationships. However sincere, it’s laughable how sarcastic she sounds. Immediately, Leslie swoops in to save her dearest friend like a animal caught in some netting. This is not an original plot by ANY means. Ann and Leslie have played opposite roles, but the general principle of matchmaking prevails. What makes it feel brand new are the contributions from the rest of the gang. They’re not at all obligated to, but because Leslie would “lit’rally” do anything for them, they ask Leslie “How high,” before she even requests they jump. Sure, it wasn’t the cleverest plot ever conceived, but it gave us an excuse to return to the giving, thoughtful Leslie. It would be an exaggeration to say politics has changed her, but it has forced her to be self-absorbed, and before I could recognize how much I missed her magnanimity she reappeared.

The scope of her altruism extended to her valentine as well. Though they had promised not to exchange gifts, Ben had a stuffed animal made based on her recurring dream of a playboy otter (where do these ideas COME FROM), and she gave him—a cryptex. Inspired by the first movie they watched together on Starz HD, “The Da Vinci Code,” it’s a device that stores inside instructions on how to arrive at his surprise. Of course, he must know the five-letter code first, and he is clueless. Thus, the ingenious trio of sleuths, Ben, Ron and Andy is formed (not before Ron and Andy suggest the code might be f**k and actually “break it”). Hot on the trail, Ron tries to resist the allure of riddles and clues. Once he discovers he has a knack for the game, his patented giggle is unleashed, one that is only revealed when Swanson breaks down his meat-soaked, manly exterior and simply enjoys himself. The point is illustrated superbly in one outlandish, ironic scene, Ron enters “The Bulge,” Pawnee’s premier gay bar. He confidently saunters in, inquires about Leslie’s clue, retrieves it and then walks out giggling effeminately as the aroused patrons gawk at him, bewildered. It’s a truly mesmerizing scene that renders you silent until the awes dissipates and you erupt at how splendid it is to watch Ron own that room, as if it were his old stomping grounds, despite being the antithesis of the Swanson way.

At the annual couples dance, sponsored by the Parks Department, Jerry, April and Tom try to scrounge up candidates to be Ann’s date. Jerry incidentally hires a gay male escort and Tom contributes the cowboy wanna-be, Harris. Harris is played by Emerson College alum (rep my school!) Harris Wittels, one of the most frequent writers for the show. He makes an impression as a lives-at-home Phish Phanatic (he’s been to 308 concerts). Former flame, Chris, has sunken into the polar opposite of his usual optimism, all-encompassing sadness. As DJ for the event, he constructs the most miserable playlist. Tom, often a catalyst for parties trying to break the fun barrier, tries to cheer him up pointing out how many prospects could be out there in the dance floor. Chris’ pessimistic reply is that no one compares to Millicent Gurgitch: everyone except her father Jerry. What ensued was the laugh out loud nominee for best facial expression, a longing, gentle stare from across the room. Just the idea of Chris yearning for Jerry makes me burst out.

Eventually, Ron solves Leslie’s 25-clue scavenger hunt when he suggests that the only thing she covets more than romance is being right. He asks Ben if he has recently shifted to her way of thinking on a point of disagreement recently. Ben applauds Ron’s expertise and rushes over to Lil’ Sebastian’s grave. As fans beyond this season will know, Lil’ Sebastian is the miniature horse that captured the hearts of Pawneeans, no matter their creed. Ben (even Ron got visibly choked up at the horse’s funeral) doesn’t get it. The appeal escapes him. Leslie is blissfully unaware of his true feelings though, thinking he has finally come to understand his greatness. Her reward for Ben was to treat him to dinner, but when she suspects that Ann and Chris have left for a secret date to rekindle their feelings and remedy their loneliness he suggests it would be better that they spy on them. They would, of course, be breaking the same rule they had: a personal relationship between a superior and his subordinate.

All these shenanigans lead me back to my thesis on this episode’s depictions of growth. April, despite her usual ambivalence, or even sometimes active rooting for chaos, showed last week with Chris’ grieving that she puts others before herself in order to make them happy. Is it possible Leslie’s selflessness has rubbed off? At any rate, in this episode April assists the women she swore to despise ever since she kissed the man she’d later marry. Not only has her hostility softened, but she actively seeks to support Ann by offering an unlikely solution to a lack of well-intended male attention. Tom. No, seriously. This was no sabotage by April. And she makes a salient point. Tom, when you carve off the layer of swagger-ful facade, he is at his most basic elements a sweet guy who would dote on Ann, and make her feel like the most adored and important woman in the world, even against his better judgment. April also observes that Tom is the sole man to make her laugh and smile that night.

Upon LesBen’s arrival at the restaurant they had followed Ann to, it’s revealed to us that the Tom/Ann pairing came to fruition, at least for a few drinks that night. They were the secret date Leslie had speculated about. Suggestive of her improvement in approaching healthier romantic relationships, Ann decides to allow Tom the opportunity to audition. By all accounts, he fails miserably. He makes some wisecrack about getting to know each other so they may later “snuggle up, like little bunnnnnies.” Ann says, “Ugh, this was a mistake,” and it’s over. So Tom doesn’t make significant strides like April did, and Ron only told Leslie how titillating he found her series of riddles in reverse psychological code. And that’s okay. It wouldn’t have been so authentic if everyone had resolved their imperfections. Ann remaining a “beautiful spinster” is not a blight on the tapestry’s fabric.

For me, “Operation Ann” signified progress. Alan Sepinwall, a fellow critic whom I look up to, theorizes that maybe April’s marked spike in maturity could be a precursor to her breaking away from Andy. One of his commenters suggested maybe it is his Andy himself, and his pure heart, that has galvanized her good deeds. Either way, whether April blossoms into a benevolent young lady is immaterial. It matters not that Tom thwarts his chance to woo Ann. The vital ingredient this episode added to the mixture was motivation. As mentioned above, I applaud the “Parks” staff for their commitment to the authenticity of their characters. Their voices are distinct and their ideals, their motivations, their far, their desires are clearly mapped, by now. But my stamp of approval was earned when they broke their own conventions of the characters allowing them the forward movement to fundamentally change aspects of who they are.

We want to spend time with these guys because they feel real, because they assert themselves. They make mistakes. They live. And there’s no reset button that erases the previous week’s errors in judgment. There are rules, and damn it, they break them week to week, but not without consequence. The numerous slaughter murals that adorn Pawnee’s City Hall may not be an accurate representation of the kind souls we’ve come to know inhabit that town, but they do convey an undeniable truth of their world and ours. Nothing lasts forever. When discussing the roots of his despair with Leslie, Chris tellingly poses the question, “What if I have already achieved my personal best?” Because they pushed our pals along with the winds of conflict and change, and by testing their “babies” they challenged themselves (as writers), while not sacrificing the consistency and rhythm of its rise-and-fall jokes, the “Operation” was successful… A-

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines:

- “Thank you for being here. Let’s get started.” “Wow, Ron. Great attitude!” “Sorry, I was talking to these ribs.”

- “Does Ann have a little Indian in here?” “No I don’t think so…” “Would she like some?”

- “April hates Valentine’s Day, and brunch, and outside, and smiling. Haha, she’s weird.”

- “Let this be a call a wakeup call about how you present yourself to the world.”

- “Can we change the music? It kinda sounds like the end of a movie about a monk who kills himself.”

- “…Not as beautiful as my sister, but you know, the law.”

- “Screw romantic dinners, let’s go rub it in their face!”

- “I got lucky…AND I LOVE RIDDLES!”

Leslie (Amy Poehler) looks to court a reluctant voter with bowling skills and "laid-back" demeanor.

When “Parks and Recreation” started out, it was “The Office” 2.0. Whether comparisons were fair or not (they did share producers/writers Greg Daniels and Michael Schur) it was a comedy founded upon the idea of hilarious interaction in the workplace. And once we came to know these characters and the dynamic they shared, the show was heralded by critics. It’s only natural then, that the TV critic community might would become weary of the potential for shaking up a successful formula. Leslie Knope is running for office, and as her adoring fans we would like to witness her triumph. But what would happen to the gang if she was a city councilwoman? For now, they are diligent phone operators and fundraisers, but how long can that last? Will it feel like the gang is playing second fiddle to the LesBen power couple?

This episode scoffs at that notion. Much of this episode’s charm was in the the B- and C-stories that showcased two of the most facially gifted, delivery-nailing comedic actors out there, Nick Offerman and Aubrey Plaza. Offerman’s Ron Swanson is not only my favorite character in current comedy, but he is a cult figure for his love of meat and breakfast food, his staunch libertarianism, and his intolerance for girlish men. Plaza’s April Ludgate has epitomized the ironic youth of today. She is the sarcastic observer who wants chaos to unfold so that she may mock its meaninglessness. Both not only execute their fan-favorite quirks with deadly accuracy this week, but they reach beyond themselves in moments of growth (eh, maybe baby steps) that provided payoff and pathos.

LesBen and the “Knope We Can” campaign kick off a series of focus groups in order to gauge Leslie’s appeal. Many seem to feel off-put by her perceived elitism. The snob in me would wish to defend Knope by pointing out that just because these folks have a fourth grade education does not make Leslie an elitist, but I will refrain from generalizations as I am above that. Damn, still pretentious. Well, at any rate, one comment particularly gets under Leslie’s skin: “She doesn’t seem like someone I would want to bowl with.” With a target in her sights, Leslie locks on Derek, or “Bowling Comment,” as her binder full of research describes. Ben, as boyfriend, teases her relentlessly about her obsessiveness. After multiple insistences that he can ask Ron how good she is at bowling he asks, “So I’m not sure I believe you’re good at bowling is there someone I could ask?” As campaign manger, he tries to reel her in. Strategically, the one vote doesn’t matter, and if she fixates on him she could lose votes instead. So, Leslie’s compromise is to sponsor a bowling night where she can schmooze with the voters and prove she is laid back (and a good bowler as Ron can attest too, apparently).

As Leslie tries to establish her public persona most of the gang is making calls to raise money. Jerry, for Twilight Zone-like reasons, has been put in charge  and April, Andy, Donna and Chris are under his leadership. To liven up the “phone party,” Jerry incentivizes the task by offering the winner two movie passes for who ever raises the most. Chris’ eternal perk and knack for flattery seem like assurances he will win, but once he begins to celebrate his lead in the standings, April resolves she must win to “make his happiness go away.” Her efforts include creating a down-home country-fried southern belle voice, and she appeals to the Latino voters with her fluent Spanish (she is Puerto-Rican) through shouts of “Mira, mira, mira!” The competition is interrupted, however ,when Jerry lets it slip that his daughter Millie will break up with Chris. The unflinching optimist is unaware, believing they are about to move in together. When Millie comes over to take Chris “for a walk” the gang who has grown to care for him, even though just a year ago he was an outsider and threat to the Parks department, tries to warn him of the impending heartbreak, but unassuming he laughs off their subtle forebodings.

Ann, Tom and Ron join LesBen at the bowling night, much to Ron’s delight. The restaurant inside the alley is his favorite in Pawnee. It serves only hot dogs and hamburgers, but Offerman’s glee shrouded in mustache suggests that is all Ron truly needs. In contrast, Tom (Aziz Ansari) arrives with pomp and circumstance. For all my cinephiles, he dons a black version of the satin scorpion jacket sported by Ryan Gosling in “Drive.” Ron continues to relish in his simple values, regardless (referring to Ann, as “Girl” was particularly authentic). Tom shakes that foundation to the core though when he bowls two-handed, “granny style,” and scores a strike. Ron is outraged that such an embarrassing display could result in success.

Despite Leslie’s spinning her inability to “let go” into a popular event, she hadn’t buried the hatchet. She sent Derek an invitation in the mail and when she spots him, she immediately swoops in to challenge him to a friendly game and a hot plate of wings (she creepily smiles at the camera saying she totally knew he’d loved them, pointing at her binder). She lets the man win, and even strokes his ego along the way, which in itself seems very anti-Leslie, but this guy really got under her skin. She outlines her issue with Ben saying that she can’t control being a woman, or being short, or blonde, but she can control her perception. She NEEDS Derek to perceive her as fun. Once Derek wins with only a mediocre score, Leslie springs on him the question about his vote. He still won’t vote for her. Leslie, then tries to earn his vote saying that if she can beat him fair and square he will guarantee his vote. Ben, during this whole fiasco, is extremely frustrated, wishing Leslie would take the opportunity to face-to-face with more people, but what makes him perfect for Leslie is he says his piece and then falls back, letting his love make her own mistakes.

Once she absolutely slays Derek in bowling she tries to be civil and say, “Hey, seriously it’s been fun, and I hope I can genuinely count on your vote.” Then, Derek replies, “Sure, I’ll write-in Bitch.” Outraged, Ben goes COMPLETELY out of character and punches the man in the face. He instantly apologizes, but Leslie is impressed! And who can blame her? Despite her feminism and opposition to violence, she found out her love can protect her and that’s not something she should regret, it’s something she should cherish. But in the public eye, it’s something she should apologize for. To avoid Derek pressing charges, she intends to save face (pun intended).

Here begins the laundry lists of reversals the episode elicits. Although, “Bowling for Votes” is brimming with jokes that hit upon specific beats as opposed to hitting on a level of general wit and charm, our quirky and even lovable friends in Pawnee don’t remain static. They learn from their mistakes, they feed off the emotions of their friends, and they realize that who they need to gratify first is themselves.

For Ron, “Bowling with two hands is embarrassing” Swanson, Tom’s inevitable victory is not an option, it is an aberration that should be ignored, but for posterity’s sake he must prevent it. He sabotages Tom by jamming his “fing-y” between two bowling balls. He suspects he won’t be able to bowl the last frame. When Tom perseveres and hits enough pins with just one hand, Ron is visibly distraught. In the very last scene, he takes his baby steps by showing up in sunglasses, marking his name as “Man” and bowling  Tom’s way. In hilarious, yet predictable manner, he bowls a perfect game. The manager asks for a photo to put up on the wall, but Ron assures that he was never there and walks off. Of course, he shouldn’t have been embarrassed for the tremendous achievement, but to acknowledge that another’s way might be better is like asking Ron to change his entire fabric of being. It’s progress Ron can’t possibly sustain, but memorable for his effort.

April, likely surprised the most when, in a moment of weakness, she offered condolences and a gift to Chris. In the aftermath of the breakup, Chris never came back to make calls and April won the movie tickets. Feeling as though he might need support, and perhaps feeling guilty that she wished for his happiness to go away, she approaches him reticently. Once at the office, he represses his pain. He tries to dip into his well of positive thinking, but comes out empty and dry. “But here’s why it may be the greatest thing that ever happened…” When he just stands there, she offers him the tickets out of pure kindness, suggesting maybe he use them to join her and Andy at the movies someday soon. Nobody with any sense of April would believe she didn’t care about at least some of these people, but to see her take a shine to her emotionally polar opposite (the man who loves all vs. The woman who is always “meh”) was quite a departure. Both Ron and April have these facades, these masks they wear for their own amusement and protection, but here the masks are removed and the likable, decent folk emerge.

Leslie’s reversal occurs to her in mid-apology. She shouldn’t apologize for something she’s  deemed awesome. She may admit too much in revealing how much they “made out after,” but the message is understood. She loves Ben, and when Ben stood up for Leslie by clocking a jerk who called her “her second least favorite word for a woman” she felt protected and honored. Turns out, the focus groups love that kind of gusto to stand up for what you believe in while risking that others may not stand behind you. This may seem like an all-to-easily-swayed voting population, but stranger and more arbitrary aspects have won a candidate elections before. Most importantly, Leslie gained a better understanding of the sort of candidate she wants to be, separate from what is “electable.”

Leslie’s arc can largely be viewed as a metaphor for the show. No one can ever accuse the ensemble of “Parks and Recreation” of being inauthentic. Some weeks Andy may seem too much of an idiot, Tom may be too showy, and Leslie can be too manic about a project (Ron could never be too much of anything, it’s all gold). And while moderation, range and/or subtlety are great practices in human behavior and in television, what make the Parks gang a fun group to be with is that they never disappoint. They are flawed, but they never fall shy of expectations in the terms of being themselves. If the campaign trail doesn’t change Leslie, than why should we worry the show’s essence will change. With no “wow” factor in terms of a slapstick tipping point, and without much of the electricity of of other recent episodes with joke frequency this might come off as an off-night. But for allowing Leslie to rediscover the personality and spunk that made that made her such an unstoppable public servant and a compelling candidate while shining the spotlight on Ron and April, two of the show’s more distinct contributions to the comedic canon, I can unapologetically  call this episode “awesome,” an A-.

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines:

- “Oh I don’t know Jerry. It’s Sunday night, I’m making phone calls to strangers and you’re in my house. My night couldn’t be worse.” —April

- “I choose to support Team Knope. Because they’re the best. Everyone’s the best. We’re all winners.” —Chris

- “When I eat, it is the food that is scared.” —Ron Swanson

- “Son, people can see you!” —Ron Swanson

- “You can’t eat the biscuits if you don’t pay for the flower!”

- Andy, in response to hearing Jerry say Millie is going to break up with Chris: “Wow, that’s gonna be super weird when they move in together.”

- “I’d like to introduce you to my good friend, anyone else.” —Ben

- “What Champion? You need to go out now? Oh, sorry he hates awkward situations.” —Andy

Andy (Chris Pratt) takes an eye exam as his wife, April (Aubrey Plaza), looks on dumbfounded.

I’m not suggesting that Parks and Recreation should be viewed as anything beyond a belly laugher that occasionally will endear us with acts of kindness and friendship (and this CERTAINLY is not a slight), but I felt as though this episode had a pretty visible thematic undercurrent. Besides being a relevant social satire (perhaps) of the ongoing tete a tete between Newt Gingrich and Mitt Romney-endorsing Super PACs, I saw “Campaign Ad” as a commentary on idealism vs. realism. In both subplots, we saw the extremes employed. Andy and April chose to ignore their abysmal financial situation and hope that insurance would cover an absurd amount of medical care that evidently both have been neglecting for some time. And Ron F***ING Swanson was cruel and ruthless in crushing the dreams of the Public Works Department who hoped to build a dam. Of course, both incarnations of these world outlooks were hysterical, but obviously flawed. Ron surely could have been more compassionate, and based on Chris’ offer at toward the episode’s end, if he could remain open-minded a more lucrative and influential position of assistant city manager would await him. Could you imagine a Libertarian like him with the power to cut spending in any (and just maybe all) departments? And Andy certainly sees the world through rose-colored glasses. And according to his eye test, he needs actual glasses. According to his testimony it sounds as if he has been suffering from nearsightedness for oh…his whole adult life.

What we got with the main plot was the true face-off and subsequent compromise of these perspectives. Leslie is the idealist. When an opponent, played by movie star Paul Rudd, born of the Pawnee royal family, the Newports, pops into the race with his daddy’s corporate backing she firmly believes that although Bobby Newport is charismatic and affluent her status as a lifelong bureaucrat and champion of her city will propel her to victory. But frankly, Sweetums (the Newport family business), a candy conglomerate that employs half of Pawnee’s population, carries too much political sway. Ben, the realist, immediately sees the competition as the Goliath to their David. This does not necessarily discourage Ben either. He just is willing to play dirty. Leslie, however stands atop her principles, while reluctant to undermine her boyfriend’s strategy. His fairly sound plan is to buy airtime during halftime of the Pawnee vs Eagleton high school basketball game (more popular in town than the Super Bowl) to run an attack ad against Bobby Newport. With most of the gang in support, Leslie hesitates to voice her opinion, but once Ben senses her discomfort she refuses to ever do a negative ad. Though her ambition, to win on her merits alone and not by demeaning the opposition, is admirable but Ben aptly breaks it down. She does not have room for error. She is down 70 points, and needs something, anything, that will make her stand out before she’s DOA. An attack video could be that lynchpin.

Being the reasonable and supportive boyfriend he is, Ben suggests a competition. Leslie and he will pick teams and whichever team produces the better ad wins. During Leslie’s shoot there is the sight gag of Bobby Newport’s bus with that big smiling mug of his right behind Leslie as she hands a child a hot dog (how patriotic). This pales in comparison, however, to the funniest moment of the episode as the team of Tom, Ben and Jerry try and nail the perfect voiceover for their cliché slam against Bobby. Just replaying in my head that unlikely trio taking turns, showing off their most gravelly, menacing, and authoritative versions of the condescending narrator in these commercials (we all know the type), makes me break into howling laughter. Once they screen their respective submissions the victor is clear, though Leslie is swimming in the De-nial River. Ben quickly points out that, positive or not, her ad is ineffective. It never mentions that she is running for office nor ever says the words city council. Plus, her list of “some more things she’s pro” is miles long and in painfully small typeface. Eventually, she accepts defeat and trusts her boyfriend to do what’s best. It’s curious that this strong-willed woman would stroke her boyfriend’s ego, even if he may be right, but we are soon vindicated as loyal viewers.

Despite Leslie’s claims that she’s “very zen about it all,” she tackles Ben at the TV station as he is about to hand over the DVD. Another great bit of slapstick from a comedy that has limitless range. But the award for best use of physical comedy goes to Chris “Pratfall” Pratt a.k.a Andy. Not once, but three times he was called upon to fall over in this episode and every one had me (and hopefully not him) in stitches. As stated above, Andy and April were doctor’s appointment shopping after Ann told them about the wonders of health insurance when they came to her wondering what could be causing Andy’s symptoms. He’s saddled with a headache, seeing double, a song stuck in his head, his teeth hurting and he’s hungry—to which Ann quips, “Kay, well some of those things are symptoms and some of them are just being a person.” Then once inside the Pawnee Medical Center he opens up about a number of issues ranging from allergies to broken bones, to April needing a tooth pulled. But as I mentioned it is his spills that brought the whole bit together, the most prolific being when he decides to “dine and ditch” the hospital when he realizes the insurance required a $500 deductible. His response is then to rush out of the building, and in his haste he runs into the side of an ambulance. If you don’t burst out after seeing Pratt bounce back, you are a lifeless drone or one of the dementors from Harry Potter that suck out people’s souls.

Once Leslie sabotages Ben’s marketing strategy he decides that they can combine elements of their ads together to create an appealing and sweet, yet tactfully pointed argument for why she would be a much better councilperson. In the instant Youtube sensation, we see footage of 10-year-old Leslie making fake campaign ads promising cleaner streets and a more progressive tax on residential properties. In Bobby’s ads? He promises to…figure it out when he gets there. The widely viewed viral hit causes young Newport to call LesBen (my trademarked couple name) to dinner. Here’s where the episode hit its only real snag. Paul Rudd, like most of the cast, can charm the paints off me on a consistent basis, but the writers also know exactly who these characters are to the point where nothing they say is inauthentic.

In Bobby Newport’s pleas to Leslie for her to “just quit” he comes across as a spoiled version of Andy. Now, there is nothing wrong with the lovable loser. Andy executes it flawlessly almost every week. And Homer Simpson has done it for 25 years. But when you have two dudes who are dumb as rocks and man-children in terms of their grasp of responsibility on one show, it comes across a tad lazy. I buy that Bobby would think he’d get his way every time, but he might convey that in a way douchier than “Gimme it.” I was hoping for a Bush-like baffoon, who in the media’s perception tried very hard and often succeeded in sounding smart and put-together, but would on select occasions negate his efforts with mispronunciations and vagaries when discussing foreign and domestic agendas. At this point, I will lay off though, because I have the utmost faith that Harris Wittels (Emerson alum, REPRESENT) and the rest of the staff writers will re-write the ship (see what I did there) and utilize Paul Rudd’s smarmy delivery to make him closer to spoiled douche than spoiled dimwit, or possibly an unfounded mixture.

In lieu of a mixed reaction to Paul Rudd’s introduction to Pawnee, my inclination is to downgrade from last week, but the jokes hit everywhere else, and the April/Andy hospital buffet even topped the main thread with Leslie/Ben. Although, admittedly, the re-affirming moment where Leslie tells Bobby to toughen up, as Ben told her when debating the ad’s merits, in preparing for their debate did inspire in me a Tiger Woods fist pump. I imagine, sadly, that has less acceptance as a gesture post-scandal, but I felt triumphant all the same. The Ron/Chris subplot could have easily fallen under the radar, but it exhibited more precision in character authenticity. Again, that’s what made Bobby so strangely inferior in comparison, but in fairness Ron Swanson wasn’t the epic and thoroughly manly man from day one as I recall, so slack is being cut. There was also a nice callback to Ron’s Christmas gift as he tried to shut out Chris with his remote-control door, but quick as he is he snuck in. Also getting a callback—Andy’s gold record. Turns out his gift sparked the incident that jarred his “brain helmet,” him violently sneezing into the wall as he tried to mount the frame. Chris also served the purpose of adding a bit of intrigue that could mainfest itself as the election draws closer. With Ron being offered the position of assistant city manager that leaves the Parks director position. Obviously, he hasn’t made a decision, but once again the neurotic optimist throws a wrench in the machine and Leslie’s well-earned victory may not be so inevitable.

With all that in mind, factoring in my favorite lines, deliveries, and plain silly moments, I find myself compelled to edge Parks and Rec into A range as I have done with every P&R episode I have reviewed thus far, BUT due to the cathedral scale ceiling the series has set for itself in comparison to nearly all other comedies in rotation, I must reluctantly award “Campaign Ad” with a B+.*

*Be aware of this caveat, however, that the 2/3 letter deduction is mostly for its lapse in quality establishing Rudd’s character, who will have a multi-episode arc as Leslie’s only legitimate opponent, thus far. Also, when I considerd my lofty expectations of this show’s ability to combine barrages of emotional gut-punches with waves of uncontrollable giggling, it should be noted I never really felt a kinship with Leslie’s struggle, in spite of my disdain for mudslinging. I would have buried the rich prick. Therefore, I was less moved by her empowerment in the end (thanks in large part to Ben’s patience and support) as it felt overdue. Regardless, let the record show, this does not mean “New Girl” surpassed “Parks and Recreation” in producing a higher quality episode this week since they are evaluated on different scales with “New Girl” being in its infancy. Nice try though!

L.O.L.Ls: Laugh Out Loud Lines:

- “Hey Ann, are you still a nurse or did you get fired for sleeping with all the doctors?” “Wanna try that again?”

- “This is exactly how I dreamed it would be as a kid. Except I wasn’t 70 pts. behind and my campaign manager was Mr. Belivedere.”

- “I think I got a weird rash in my knee pit area.”

- “I once ate a Twix with the wrapper on it, and I’ve never seen the wrapper come out.”

- “When I bet on the horses I never lose. Why? I bet on all the horses.”

- “Ron Swanson! I just want to thank you for being so ruthless and cruel in that meeting the other day.” “You are going to have to be more specific.”

- “I rejected his lunch offer, then he started laughing and I ended up here. Did he drug me?!”

- “Here are some more things I’m pro…” Examples on the scrolling list included: Start talking to Cuba again, Better Better Business Bureau, Memorial for those lost in “trampoline” incident, No more conflict diamonds and making it illegal to refuse a hug

- Bobby Newport: Vice President of Nougat

- “I got my ankles microwaved!” “X-rayed…”

- “You get Jerry. You wanted to go negative, you get the biggest negative in the world.”

- “My dad’s friends with John Cougar Mellencamp. That’s pretty cool.”

- Ron tries to replace himself as Chris’ new friend with city hall regular, Kyle (or as he dubs him, Dennis). Chris asks if he is a “brother Japanophile?” Kyle says to Chris ” I was eating rice, and Ron told me to come up here, but sure that sounds fun.”

- “Call an ambulance! A different one than the one I ran into!”

- No, no more doctors. They’re a bunch of scam artists! Reel you in eight the free stuff, next thing you know…BAM! You ran into an ambulance. Every time.”

The gang shuffling their candidate across the ice not-so gracefully.

One of my many media consumption resolutions for winter break/the new year was to re-watch seasons 2&3 of “Parks and Recreation,” for two reasons. One, it’s my favorite comedy currently on TV. With “Louie” on hiatus it is hard to compare, but P&R is certainly in a heated battle for #1. Two, in reading a few year-end lists of my favorite TV critics I saw that the show was consistently in the top 5. Besides feeling validated that my opinion is in accordance with the “professionals” I was immediately curious about the rationale. I have only reviewed two episodes from season four thus far, and I know why they were A-quality episodes for me, but what made season 3 (the full season aired in 2011) so A-quality that it caused Alan Sepinwall to leapfrog “Breaking Bad” and crown it the best show of the last year?

What I immediately realized about Parks and Rec’s excellence was not necessarily something you can learn workshopping scripts. P&R has harnessed the ability to cultivate friendships—with the audience. Whether you are writing a film, a short story, novel or TV pilot you learn quickly that no one will care unless you can write characters that people will want to invest in. Leslie, Ron, April, Andy, Ann, Tom, Ben, Chris and even Jerry are all my dear  friends, and I cherish any time I get to spend with them. It’s not as simple as empathy, because at times these characters can be jerks, fail miserably, or be a shell of  themselves. But despite them falling short of your expectations you will love them anyway, and root for them to return to their most promising attributes.

Tonight was one of those episodes. None of our favorite people were firing on all cylinders. In fact, Ben and Leslie both got glimpses of the bottom, but just like the rest of the team, we wanted to stick by them. In most comedies, one of our main characters running for office would merely by a long setup for some killer payoffs where shenanigans ensue. But we want Leslie to win. She is the best thing about Pawnee, Indiana’s government and she would only bring the town to new heights, but she isn’t infallible. She is going to hit rough patches. But even though this is a comedy, we don’t wanna laugh at their failures. What we want is to have a hell of time on the way down.

“The Comeback Kid” refers to Leslie’s newfound identity as she re-launches her campaign. After bringing her relationship with Ben into the light she is polling horribly and her bigshot campaign team has abandoned. In their wake, the Parks and Rec department (and Ann) have decided they will not allow her to throw in the towel (like a Jon Huntsman, but with friends). Leslie declares her bestest friend, Ann (Rashida Jones) her campaign manger despite no prior knowledge of politics. Leslie then tells her she is pretty and that she will help her anyway. Her rationale that most murders are committed by professionals was typical Leslie pontificating without thinking it through. Her positivity is ramped up when Ann lands “Pistol Pete”  Disilio, a local sports hero to endorse her. Elated, she attempts to break dance as everything seemingly falls into place.

Ben is looking to make a comeback also, into respectability. Since resigning, taking the blame for his illicit relationship with Leslie, his production level has been dangerously low. Ben, however, disagrees when Chris (Rob Lowe) comes over to lift him out of what he perceives is “massive depression.” Ben continues to deny as he shows off his new recipe for calzones (a callback to an awkward conversation with the police chief where he expressed his love for the more practical and functional pizza alternative), and his foray into Claymation, or “Claymaysh” as he so coins. This B-plot might even be stronger than the main plot simply because it allows Adam Scott to be obnoxiously pitiful, and joyfully oblivious. Later on, Ben painfully tries to convince Chris that he is fine. He outlines his plans for Lo-cal Calzone Zone. in his confessional Chris admits it is literally the worst idea he has ever heard. Undeterred, he showcases his Claymaysh piece de resistance, “Requiem for a Tuesday.” When he actually watches, he is baffled and embarrassed. In three weeks he had only filmed his clay likeness getting out of bed, he breaks down and admits his deep depression.

Leslie’s rally starts to unravel when Pistol Pete refuses to dunk for Leslie. Apparently, dredging up his past is painful for him, and he wants to endorse her as his current self and not as his 17-year old, basketball star self. Across town Ron is pulled over in a rented truck trying to transport the materials for her stage. Ron, in rare form, gets the opportunity to dispute the law with the officer claiming that there is no “real” law that he is breaking. Except like four of them. OH! And guess who is along for the ride? Well, Tom, but also Andy and April with their new three-legged dog Champion. “Because he is the World’s champion of three-legged dogs.” Leslie motors over to save them, while leaving Ann to convince Pete to pull the old routine for her. What they both find out is the situation is much worse than anticipated. Ann uncovers that Pete is traumatized by his past because of how his father treated him. Leslie discovers that because the back of the truck was opened most of the wood, and part of the banner was Jetsons-ed (as Andy does not know the word jettisoned). Therefore, she may not have her star endorsement, a big enough enough, or a banner that shows her whole face.

When they arrive at the Pawnee Sports Center, the debacle continues. Thinking she is without Pistol Pete, Leslie rallies the troops, trying to adjust. But, alas, one more hurdle. When April called she forgot to mention they would need the basketball floor, but since the hockey team used the facilities most recently she must walk across ice to her minuscule podium, thus ushering in the funniest scene of the episode. No bunch like this one can quite execute this kind of slapstick. Between Champion peeing in Ron Swanson’s arms, Andy falling on his face, and all of them hoisting Leslie onto the tiny stage while “Get On Your Feet” plays in the background, it was truly an amusing struggle. As Leslie begins to fumble over her index cards since they were jostled while she was lifted onto the platform, Pistol Pete arrives! Thankfully, in an agreeable mood, he delivers the cheesy “Voting for Leslie Knope is a slam dunk” line and even attempts to dunk. I say “attempts” because he lands square on his tailbone due to the inherently slippery quality of ice.

Bringing both Ben and Leslie’s snafus to a resolution, Leslie predictably fires Ann, hiring Ben as her campaign manager. As the clearly more knowledgeable applicant, she discards any fear that his presence would be “poison” for her image and Ben willing takes the job despite Chris’s protective refusal. He needed a task, and she needed a stable expert. All is well for this charming couple as we’d hoped but they ride was as bumpy and delightful as we’d hoped.

Despite the unsurprising grasp these writers continue to display when writing for these band of misfits, it was just shy of a knock ‘em dead episode. Don’t get me wrong, this episode ups the ante for the amount of great lines/line deliveries. The Pistol Pete uses Ann as shrink bit fell flat though. It was a clever premise with no real meat to it. Any laughs were in theory as most of the interaction was off-screen. Also, with the sugary sweetness that both “Trial of Leslie Knope” and “Citizen Knope,” added to the mix, an already flawless recipe, my expectations were mighty high. Yet the time spent was an undeniable treat with a treasure trove of cackle-inducing lines and a “Dawwww” payoff at the end that revved up much of my sentimental attachment to this season. Feel-good, yet damn witty, and at times side splitting. Just how I like it. Therefore, since P&R’s staff continues to nail the authenticity of not only each individual’s quirkiness, but the group dynamic and all its sincerity I proudly grant the new year’s re-introduction to Pawnee politics with a A-.

L.O.L.Ls (Laugh out Loud Lines):

- “Oh Ann, you beautiful tropical fish.”

- Libertarianism courtesy of Ron Swanson: “I don’t wanna pain with a broad brush here, but every single contractor in the world is a miserable incompetent thief.”

- “In 1992, Pistol Pete’s last-second slam dunk clinched a victory over Eagleton High for the Pawnee Central Drunken Savages. Team mascot was later changed.”

- “Tom, be a man and sit on the lady’s lap!”

- “What’s that in the sole of my show? Red carpet. Everywhere I walk, I’m walking on red carpet.”

- “The past is great! Jitterbug, stagecoaches, Herman Munster.”

- Where are you? My mother’s butt, yeah that’s helpful.”

- “I’m kind of tearing this Claymation thing a new one.”

- “Windows are the eyes to the house.”

- “Can’t you do anything wrong, Jerry?”

- “Together we can beat…obese children. No wait…”

- “Don’t make out it’s making Champion sad.’

Leslie (Amy Poehler) and Ben (Adam Scott) have something to tell their boss (Rob Lowe).

What’s up Parks and Recreation fans! I’m your friendly neighborhood TV critic/intern Chris Peck, and I will be reviewing the best comedy on TV right now (in my humble opinion) weekly for your enjoyment. Since this show is in its 4th season, for the sake of time, I will jump right in for the loyal followers. Any who haven’t watched the show, do it! Or we cannot be friends. Evidently, my friendships are conditional.

Ron Swanson (Nick Offerman), the cutthroat libertarian with a heart of gold, is steadily creeping up the ranks to become my favorite comedic character of all time. He’s written to perfection. Anything he does makes me audibly chuckle at the screen and point admirably, “That’s so Ron Swanson.” This may seem obvious, but too often we see extraordinarily funny characters mold themselves into caricatures of themselves. Dwight, Jim and even Michael Scott from NBC Thursday night teammate, “The Office,” comes to mind. Therefore, to see Ron’s idiosyncrasies nailed through every scenario they thrust upon him must mean he’s also a writer’s favorite too.

Not only is it important you have a barometer for what my level of enjoyment for “Parks” is, but Ron persuaded me to grant “Trial” an A from the moment his computer was thrown in the dumpster. April’s deadpan delivery about the dangers of cookies, his bewilderment about how the computer could know his name, and his ultimate fear that anyone could see his house on Google Earth, all killed for me. Probably the most understated aspect of this cold open is Ron’s misguided understanding that it is this particular computer that has violated his privacy and so he must dispose of it immediately. Swanson, I love thee.

Now on to the equally delicious meat and potatoes. The message boards have been blowing up with weariness over the Leslie/Ben plot this season. Whether it was the typical nature of the will they/won’t they plot, the seemingly convoluted lengths the writers went to keep them apart, or how most promising sub-plots and additions to the Pawnee universe (Entertainment 720 among them) have been squandered in favor of the warmest and fuzziest couple of all time. Those concerns have been heard, and considered, but I believe this episode has squelched all those worries decisively. You would have to be dead inside to not adore Ben (Adam Scott) or Leslie (Amy Poehler) by the trial’s end, and dare I neglect to mention ETHEL FREAKING BEAVERS, the cutest old lady stenographer this side of TV land.

If there is any criticism to be had, (and the obnoxious cynic in me tried his damnedest and couldn’t find a thing), it might be that this episode was TOO darn sweet. Between Chris’ (Rob Lowe) supplementally aided attempts to avoid spiraling into depression (to fire Leslie would “have hurt him to the core,” and he focuses primarily on his core in his workouts), Ron’s “4th quarter” speech about what makes a person good, and the whole gang chipping in to help Leslie through what may have been her darkest hour, I was incredibly moved by this most genuine of communities. And lest I forget Ben’s epic declaration of love and sacrifice that compelled me to kneel and propose! The execution of seeing the secret meeting play out in one instance, and in the next the elderly court reporter reading the record aloud in a semi-engaged monotone was clutch material.

Every element, every character detail, all came together in what felt like one of the most significant, passionate smooches I’ve seen in a comedy. Of course the cliffhanger kiss is a trope that’s existed since man fiddled with the antennas atop the set, but this felt earned. Though more of our supporting cast is always appreciated, the collection of minor contributions worked for me. Andy read archaic legislation with no pictures, April tried to deflect the accusations on ETHEL BEAVERS (totally worthy of the caps lock), Ron gladly volunteered to “silence” any and all witnesses (though he was unwilling to divulge his home address in order to shore up Leslie’s alibi) and Tom willingly testified to kissing Leslie on the impulse of a joke, though he equated he act to kissing his sister’s elderly aunt—clearly all contributed in their own special way.

Chris sobbing violently in Ben’s lap, touched by Ben’s selflessness in taking the brunt of the blame for covering up the relationship, was an utterly hilarious visual gag. Kidding aside, my immediate feelings were a variation of the same. An almost primal reaction, impossible to suppress. I was all smiles for hours after viewing, and I still am beaming as I plug away at these keys, delighted that I got to spend this time in Pawnee. Clearly the podunk town is flawed (comically so) and it houses an assortment of basket cases, but at it’s center, sitting in support of their fallen leader in the council chambers, we found the best that people can offer us: family, love and belonging.

What does Leslie’s two-week suspension mean for her political career? Even she isn’t worried about that, despite her newly official boyfriend’s concern. Ben doesn’t seem all too preoccupied with his unemployment status either. And that’s okay. Because they have each other, and we have them. No more games, just Leslie, Ben, Ron (my ironic hero), Chris and Pawnee, Indiana. “Parks and Rec” is truly bold TV for going all in and delivering the relationship payoff only nine episodes in, and has only opened up the potential for more shakeups and hilarity. For bringing the funny and adorable like gentlest of ass-whoopings, I hereby sentence the accused episode with an A.

L.O.L.Ls (Laugh Out Loud Lines):

“You kidding? Bribing a public official to cover up a sex-capade? I like you even more!”

“Anne, text me every thirty seconds to tell me everything is gonna be okay…THANKS ANNE!”

“…You end up a frozen whore! I’m fighting.”

“Any women caught laughing is a witch.” “It’s true.”

“We got the gramps! I mean grants! Damn, it was going to be such a great moment.”

(sniffs audibly) “She’s here. Tammy 2. I can smell the sulfur from her cloven hooves.”

In response to learning Jerry’s real name is Garry. “God, they’re both horrible…I can’t get over this Jerry/Garry thing!”

Ben, while consoling Chris, “Let it out, I guess?”

Not a line, but another cute couple moment: Ben giving Leslie a Lil’ Sebastian horsey doll (CALLBACK!) and telling her he would be right behind that wall…where a portrait of a hideous monster-looking lawyer is hung. Leslie later informs us he is Marcus Everett “Stoneface” Langley. His nickname came from his steely demeanor in the courtroom. Also because when he got trapped in a rock quarry and his face was blown off by dynamite. Only LesBen, only LesBen. LesBen is officially trademarked by Christopher Peck and Blast Magazine…or I’m saying it is before the dwellers of the interwebs steal it!

NBC has given the full season orders to three of its shows: “Community,” the medical drama “Mercy” and the second season of “Parks and Recreation.”

All three episodes are getting decent ratings. “Community” averages about 5.7 million viewers. “Mercy” has 7.8, and “Parks” has 4.8 million weekly viewers.

“Parks and Recreation” has gotten markedly better as the season has gone on. We’re glad its staying.

What do you think of the three shows? What do you think of Jay Leno?

HGTV was number one last night among all cable channels with women and “upscale adults” when “Design Star” came on and just wiped the floor with everyone else.

We have a humongous night of television planned, with a crap-load of premieres including “Bones” on FOX at 8 and “Fringe” at 9. CBS starts “Survivor: Samoa: at 8 p.m., and the first NBC Saturday Night Live Weekend Update Thursday edition is at 8. Also on NBC, Amy Poehler’s new show “Parks & Recreation” starts at 8:30. Poehler was on “The View” yesterday talking about her baby — little rugrat’s already about a year old — and plugging the show.

Oh, and then a little show called “The Office” has its season premiere at 9. No biggie.

NBC rounds Thursday off with “Community” at 9:30.

FX will start a new season of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” tonight at 10, and they’re offering a sneak peak at “Archer” at 10:30.

We also learned today that National Geographic Channel will launch a sixth season of “Dog Whisperer” with Cesar Millan on October 9 at 9 p.m. The first episode details how to properly raise a puppy in an episode called “How to Raise the Perfect Dog.” There will be 30 new episodes this season, including “celebrity dogs.”

In other news MTV continues to not do anything involving music. They recently signed on for a show called “Warren the Ape,” combining celebrities and puppets set in a fictional reality show. Look out Emmy voters — this one’s coming sometime in 2010.

Finally on this cloudy Thursday here in Boston, pay attention to Ron Howard over the next few months. FOX recently gave him the nod for a new comedy show set inside an IRS district office. FOX ok’d a pilot, and it looks like Brent Forrester, the writer and director of “The Office” will be writing the script. This could be big.