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!”

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.’

The gang celebrates the holidays, and also their loving friend and boss, Leslie Knope (Amy Poehler).

Despite the holiday cheer infestation that has victimized us all (particularly in department stores where I feel assaulted by horrible Christmas songs), as a critic I feel pressure to maintain cynicism even if my impulses to give and love painfully are overwhelming me. Thankfully, this episode of “Parks and Recreation,” has allowed me to put my guard down. I can feel free to hug a reindeer and jingle some bells because for the second straight week my adoration has been earned.

We begin where last week left us with Leslie’s existential crisis. What will she do with nothing to do during her two week suspension? What will Ben do for employment? Well, in the open we see Leslie breaking in to the Parks and Rec office to snag her flashdrive. She claims it is not for work-related reasons…only so she can oversee the Parks department while she is gone. Huh? Chris doesn’t buy her excuse either. He asks nicely and she hands him nasal spray. Then they try and negotiate and exchange and Leslie runs off with the flashdrive. Chris runs after her in his ridiculous “Bumbleflex” jogging suit (made from synthetic beeswax). Ben is seeking employment in the private sector, and is initially encouraged  by his prospects. Though, Leslie pinpoints that he is more “excited” by the security of being “an accountant for an accounting firm,” than he is with the position itself.

Back at the office, our favorite co-workers are thrilled with the per usual, stellar gifts Leslie got them. All of the gifts were gems in terms of writing. These guys know their characters as if they were family. Andy got a gold record for his band, Mouserat, selling over 100 copies in Pawnee; For April, she commandeered a painting of her finally slaying The Black Eyed Peas; Donna got a zebra-print with “You Can Get It” in rhinestones on the back; Tom, in place of tickets to the “Watch the Throne” tour, (which I actually saw, and got to high-five Jay-Z as he came through the tunnel…no big deal) was given a pocket watch, hollowed out with “Baller Time” inscribed and a tiny gold throne. And the most hilarious gift of all, she had automatic doors that close with the push of a button installed in Ron’s office overnight. Typically, he is furious that she would get him something so special, and Ron’s rough exterior breaks as he holds back the tears. Oh, and not to be forgotten, because Leslie “gets him,” she gives Jerry, socks.

That sequence of gifts would have made my night. We get a memorable joke/moment from each character within five minutes of the episode. Thankfully, it only got better. Leslie, in her manic restlessness, receives the suggestion from Ben that she can work for the town as a citizen activist. For her, this means rallying some new troops to her cause and organizing PCP (Parks Committee of Pawnee). They harass Chris by calling incessantly and following him on his jogging route, and they show up to the town hall meeting run by Donna and Jerry, totally sabotaging it. Eventually, Leslie ends up back in Chris’ office with a list of demands, as well as his Christmas gift. Leslie’s unique combination of impossible work ethic and extreme selflessness has been utilized in the past, but here it feels seamless attached to not only the holiday season, but also when to her recent extraction from the biggest outlet for her “Can’t stop, won’t stop” attitude.

The gang (spearheaded by RON!) decides to show their gratitude for Leslie by putting together a thoughtful gift of their own. Ron suggests building a wooden model of the Parks department, Leslie’s favorite place in the world, and then Ann chimes in with the idea of a gingerbread house of the park department. Ron, of course, feels defeated, insisting amidst the jubilation that “wood model is better.” Being a good sport, he attempts to construct the gingerbread house and repeatedly crushing the cookie in his hands out of impatience. When Andy shows him up with his frosting skills, Ron quits. But damn, if I didn’t appreciate the effort from my favorite Pawnee man.

But oddly enough, my favorite aspect of this episode filled with love, collaboration and general merriment was when the consequences of last week’s verdict revealed themselves. Leslie’s campaign advisers foresaw a dip in in her poll numbers, but because of the perceived “sex scandal,” she saw a catastrophic decline to 1%. Or as Leslie articulates it, “last milkshake sip levels.” Leslie, expectedly, remains determined, but the veteran campaigners decided she is a lost cause, a concept lost on Leslie. Ben, however, has a epiphany about being okay without a job, realizing that he is happy in the state of uncertainty because it means he hasn’t yet found that great job he was meant for. Showing these two grow without each other, as well as together, is precisely how the show can keep this couple relevant while not obstructing the core relationship of this Parks staff that is so integral to the pathos and the humor the show has spent four seasons building.

These new stakes present themselves just long enough to cause concern, but when Chris gifts Leslie her ID a week early, effectively revoking her suspension, she walks in to her familiar workplace overwhelmed by the effort of her employees, astounded by the gingerbread replica, and then nearly floored by the most heartwarming gesture of all, announcing their commitment to running the Leslie Knope 2012 campaign. As each character, described their position on the campaign staff (Tom as “swagger coach,” Ron as “what ever else you damn well need”) my smile grew wider. It certainly isn’t a requirement for a comedy to create an entirely likable ensemble to achieve comedic success, but damn, if it doesn’t make me tune in every week, thrilled to see what this team (both the Parks and Rec characters and the show’s writing staff) accomplishes together. For, pumping some much needed Christmas spirit into my veins, through genuine caring and kindness, and not some hokey, commercialized version of what “Christmas really means” I give “Citizen Knope” the gift of credit where credit is due, an A.

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

- “Well, I’ll calc-u-later.”

- Ben, after Leslie creates the gross blend sal-gar (salt and sugar): “You’re putting an awful lot of sal-gar on your pasta” “That’s just sugar.”

- Leslie addressing her group, PCP: “Clear Eyes, Full Hearts, Can’t Lose” GAHHHH, “Friday Night Lights” reference!

- Donna: “I spray painted the M&Ms silver.” Ann: “Oh, okay, those are poisonous now.” Andy (clearly with silver paint in his lips): “Well, yeah, duh, I didn’t eat them.” Ann: “Andy, go throw up.” Andy: “I didn’t” Ann: “Seriously, go throw up.” Andy: “Okay.”

- Leslie after giving Chris his present: “My pleasure…see you in Hell!”

- “Like Kim tells me, you gotta do what you love…then she ripped the hair from my b-hole”

- “I’m now starting a group, LSD, the Leslie Sorry Division.”

- “I cannot build a gingerbread house, and that would bother me if I was an 8 year-old girl.”

- The entire last sequence during the end credits with Jean Ralphio, Tom’s former business partner, working as a temp at the accounting firm Ben rejects was AMAZING. Seriously, that guaranteed the A for me. If I had to pick one line…

Jean-Ralphio: “You wanna talk spreadsheets, let’s talk about spreading on my sheets, because I will rock your wor—” Accountant: “You’re fired!” “Yeah, I figured, so I should just go out the way I came in?”

Happy first of February. Tonight is all about food. The premiere of “Ultimate Cake Off 2″ is on TLC at 10, and the season finale of “Worst Cooks in America is on Food Network at the same time.

Other premieres tonight include Showtime’s “Secret Diary of a Call Girl,” Bravo’s “Kell on Earth,” and “Blood, Sweat & T-shirts” on Planet Green — all at 10 p.m., so set the DVR.

NBC announced that “Parks and Recreation” was good for a third season. The show averages 5.1 million total viewers per week.

MTV is allowing us to experience “Jersey Shore” for a second season of 12 episodes. Pauly D, Mike, Snooki, Jenni, Sammi, Vinny, and Ronnie will be there. An uncensored DVD of season one will be available late this month.

Finally this morning, TBS ordered a pilot for an hour-long comedy called “Glory Daze” about four college freshmen in the 1980s who pledge a fraternity in Wisconsin.

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?

In a world where endless cop shows, doctor shows, and lawyer shows do battle for primetime network TV slots, some shows dare to be different. These shows are quirky, creative, clever, and under-watched. Here I give you a by no means comprehensive list of the best shows you’re not watching.

1. Sons of Anarchy

Hamlet on motorcycles meets “You had me at hello.” A tough-as-nails motorcycle gang keeps the peace and organizes the crime in the town of Charming. Each week the Sons of Anarchy defend their turf against rival gangs, butt heads with city hall, and take the law into their own hands”¦ and it’s all based on the Shakespearean classic. Catch it on FX, Tuesdays at 10 p.m.

2. Glee

“Glee” is by far one of the most delightfully hilarious shows on television. It’s a musical satire about the high school caste system. An optimistic teacher revives the school’s glee club, but has a little trouble on the way with the “Cheerios” captain, his “pregnant” wife and talented kids who don’t have enough confidence. With hilariously stereotypical characters and over-the-top musical numbers in every episode, it’s basically an accurate and serious representation of high school. Wednesdays at 9 on Fox.

3. Fringe

Don’t believe the commercials. If you do, you think that “Fringe” is simply “CSI: Boston.” But spend one episode following FBI agent Olivia Dunham and you’ll find that that couldn’t be further from the truth. Somebody is experimenting on the world, using bizarre science”"astral projection, genetic engineering, pyrokinesis, the works. A team of FBI agents headed up by Dunham called the “Fringe” division (including a real life mad scientist and his son) is trying to figure out why. Each week the unexplainable, unbelievable and disturbing lead our group of intrepid, world-saving believers further down the rabbit hole. It comes on Thursdays at 9 on Fox.

4. Parks and Recreation

Don’t listen to the nay-sayers who claim that Amy Poehler’s “Parks and Rec” is just her playing Michael Scott. Poehler, famous for “Baby Mama” and her various roles on “SNL,” takes her comedy to the next level in this show. Using the same documentary style as “The Office,” viewers get to take a look inside the world of the Parks and Recreation Department of Pawnee, Illinois. Poehler plays well-meaning but hopelessly clueless mid-level politician Leslie Knope. She is joined on the cast by fellow comedians Aziz Ansari (“Funny People”), Rashida Jones (“The Office”) and Aubrey Plaza (“Funny People). It comes on Thursdays at 8:30 on NBC

5. Flash Forward

Everyone in the world blacks out for 2 minutes and 18 seconds while they have a vision of their individual futures. Why? No one knows. And that’s not even the weirdest part. Thursdays at 8 on ABC.

Is nobody watching your favorite show? Tell us! In these days of repetitive programming, no good show should go unwatched.