Kimmy Gibbler doesn’t just eat food; she also wears it. Who else not only has a bacon-and-eggs scarf, but also one that is made out of cupcakes? And who else would have a cheesecake purse? Only Kimmy Gibbler, because food is not something that should just travel down to your stomach, through your intestines, and then out the San Francisco sewer system. Food is something that should travel all around the streets for everyone to see. What could Kimmy Gibbler possibly wear next? Kimchee sandals? Avocado earrings? Artisanal beet-pickle halter tops? The world is Kimmy Gibbler’s oyster (Capri pants).
Kimmy Gibbler is very busy this episode, so busy that she has to hire Stephanie Tanner, a woman who has been working only on her walk-of-shame skills since arriving in San Francisco. And good for slutty Stephanie. Apparently since that Giants player Under Pants dumped her, she’s a bit of a local celebrity and all the boys at the bar want to do shots with her. Not saying no to a male suitor is the one thing that Stephanie seems genetically disposed to do.
However, Stephanie is broke and Kimmy Gibbler needs extra help putting together an Indian-themed retirement party for D.J.’s boss. She gives Stephanie a job interview, which is honestly one of the funniest moments of the entire series. Gosh, I love that Kimmy Gibbler so much. I also loved when Stephanie rented a cow for the party because she thought, “What would Kimmy Gibbler do?” and, obviously, Kimmy Gibbler would rent a cow. Although it didn’t really fit with the theme of the party, I have a feeling that Kimmy Gibbler has rented more than one cow in her day. It’s St. Patrick’s Day? Let’s get a cow. Arbor Day? Let’s get a cow! Sabrina Nussbaum’s bat mitzvah? Is this cow kosher?
Yes, the cow is cute, but the keep-it-away-from-D.J. gag is totally lame. That’s Stephanie’s only misstep. I would totally have gone to that Bollywood-flavored retirement party, worn some traditional garments in a fit of cultural appropriation, and even done the “Jai Ho” number from Slumdog Millionaire like a bunch of Filipino prisoners trying to make a viral video. Gibbler Style sure did do this one up right, though. I don’t believe for a second that Stephanie could pull that whole thing together in a single afternoon, but whatever. Fuller House regularly asks us to believe much more absurd things, like that a killjoy like D.J. could have two guys fighting over her.
The D.J./Starving Steve/Hunky Vet Matt love triangle has just started and I already want it to end. Why do either of these wonderful, eligible, available men (whose arms stretch out the sleeves of their shirts in a way that is less than Mario Lopez but more than anyone on The Big Bang Theory) want to be with her? They’re fighting over D.J. Tanner, a woman whose idea of a fun night is eating some cut-up fruit in a bowl and then cleaning out the lint traps in her dryer.
Anyway, she’s excited because she thinks her boss is going to leave her the pet clinic when he retires because he’s been talking about it for the seven years she’s worked there. However, she convinced her boss’s son, Hunky Vet Matt, to move to San Francisco to be close to her crunchy honey pot, so he inherits it instead. D.J. mopes around like a kid who just lost one of his Voltron lions so now the robot needs to limp around on one leg while it battles the mystical forces of evil.
Then, she decides to steal the show at the retirement party and say that she is going to start her own vet clinic. As the Real Housewives love to say, it was not the time nor the place to make those remarks. This is the guy’s big party before he moves to an ashram in Mumbai for the rest of his life and D.J. is taking the mic so she can let him know that she is going to steal half of his clients and open a business of her own? “How rude!” as a very wise poetess used to say.
After D.J. throws her passive-aggressive hissy fit at the party, Hunky Vet Matt is all like, “I’m so sorry. What can I do to make you love me again?” Then he gives her half of the business. This is kind of messed up. D.J. gets upset when her boss, whom she is totally unrelated to, won’t just give her a very valuable asset, his business. She thinks that because she’s worked there for so long and he’s retiring she should just get it. Please. Do you think that when Ronald McDonald finally calls it quits, he’s just going to hand the whole operation over to Grimace? No. He’s going to give it to his son, Ronnie, and keep it in the family. It’s just natural.
Then Hunky Vet Matt, whom D.J. has been dating for maybe three weeks and who hasn’t even gotten to home plate yet (even though they’ve been thrown out of the Giants game together) just gives her half the business to make her happy. Does he realize how much that is worth? A lot. Well, maybe not that much, but it should be a lot. So now, D.J. has been given a $10 million townhouse in San Francisco from her dad, an equal share of a successful vet clinic from her not-even boyfriend, and free child care in perpetuity from her best friend and sister. D.J. Fuller is what the GOP would call a “taker.” There, I said it.
To her credit, D.J. is kind of like, “Um, we just started dating, I don’t know if this is a good idea,” but now she owns half of a pet clinic and she didn’t even put out.
I feel like D.J.’s son is just as entitled as she is. He’s been hoarding money in a plastic bag in his closet like he’s Scrooge McDuckling, and lends some to Ramona and J-Money after they get hacked. Then, he makes them treat him like a king before they repay the debt. This is so D.J.’s son, the kind of kid who thinks that the world should be handed to him on a silver platter just by accident of birth. Maybe he’ll learn a life lesson or two from his aunt Stephanie. She makes it through life the hard way: one suitor at a time.