Original Air Date: January 19, 1953
Ballers, this is the first post in Trump’s America. Just as we have all birthed a giant, lady-grabbing baby, so Lucy will now birth one of her own. Grab your favorite hate crime and enjoy!
We open on Ricky celebrating Black History Month by comparing his face to a bunch of African masks.
Ricky: I can’t figure out what kind of makeup to use for the show tonight.
Lucy comes in, all casual-like. She talked to the doctor and “it could be any time now.” So they sit and wait, bags packed.
I’m guessing her water hasn’t broken yet. So… the doctor just saw her and thought, “Yeah. She looks pretty much done.” I should be a doctor.
Ricky would like to take the night off from work, so he can be there for the birth.
Ricky: They can get along without me for one night.
Lucy: Now Ricky, be sensible. You can’t be in there where I am anyway.
Ricky: I know, but I want you to feel that I’m near.
Lucy: Well I want to feel that you’re near, too. But I don’t want you to lose your job.
THIS IS WHY WE MARCH.
Lucy insists he go to the club, so he asks her to have the baby within 3 1/2 hours so he can be there for the birth. He tells her she has until 8:30.
The guy gives his wife an order for baby delivery, like this kid is his Papa John’s or something. Although, to be fair, both come out crusty, warm, and covered in red sauce.
Eventually Fred and Ethel arrive and they all just sit there watching Lucy, waiting for the baby.
It’s impossible to describe how boring the first 8 min of this episode are.
Lucy decides to take a nap while the rest of them rehearse how they’ll get her to the car.
Ricky: I’m in charge. After all, I’m the baby’s father.
THIS IS WHY WE MARCH.
They rehearse and it’s adorable. Total calm, no stress. Ricky, Fred, and Ethel have it perfectly planned. Ricky takes a break and gets sentimental:
Ricky: Just think, this time tomorrow I’m gonna be a father.
Oh my gosh her water hasn’t even broken. For real, no one ever explained to him how long labor can last? I’d give my proverbial left nut for the rest of this episode to be 36 hours of Lucy screaming in real time while Ricky has to watch.
When Lucy does come in and says, “This is it,” chaos ensues. Screaming, mayhem. They all run out without her to hail a cab. Ricky even accidentally packs the phone.
“My son’s generation elects WHO!? Quick, let’s race to Canada and have the baby there!”
At the hospital, they have to wheel in Ricky because he had a nervous breakdown and collapsed outside. He can’t answer any of the nurse’s questions.
Then it’s time for the big moment:
Nurse (To Ricky): You’ll have to say goodbye here. You’re not allowed upstairs.
With men totally barred from the delivery process, I’m surprised they didn’t think childbirth was a total hoax. Today, there’d be conspiracy theories everywhere about how children are actually born to mind-control aliens programmed by Hillary Clinton to eat your brains and feed them to feminazi overlords.
(Overladies? That’s a thing now, yes?)
They send Ricky to purgatory aka the Fathers’ Waiting Room. This may seem old-fashioned and stupid, but then Ricky couldn’t even walk into the hospital while thinking about a baby. This would be him watching Lucy give birth:
Mr. Stanley, another expectant father, sulks in the waiting room.
Ricky: Is this your first?
Mr. Stanley: My last.
He has 6 other children – all girls, and he hates his life. We’ll come back to him.
Ricky panics because he forgot his stage makeup, so he calls Fred. Fred should say, “Consider it a blessing in disguise, Ricky. Please don’t dress up like an African mask you saw in a book.”
But no, Fred shows up with the makeup and together they complain about waiting for this baby. Yeah fuck you both. Ricky panics because he has the show that night, and Lucy hasn’t given birth yet (it’s been 45 minutes). Again, go to hell… is what Lucy would scream at him if she could from the delivery room, where a full human head is coming out of her.
Suddenly, Mr. Stanley freaks out, because the nurse tells him she has a surprise for him. He thinks his wife had a boy. He jumps up and down:
Mr. Stanley: A boy!!! I finally made it!!!
Then he finds out he had three female triplets. And he’s super sad. Not as sad as those girls will be as they grow up with a dad who doesn’t really love them, but you know, sad.
Ricky comes in dressed as a voodoo priest and/or a demon-possessed troll doll from my childhood nightmares.
Ultimately, Lucy doesn’t have the baby on cue within the 3-hour window Ricky gave her. (As usual, she fucks it all up again.)
So Ricky has to go perform. But when he comes back, a few important things happen:
1) The cops are called, but don’t shoot Ricky, even though he looks like he has an afro. This is how you know the show’s fiction.
2) Fred gets overwhelmed by waiting, then faints. These pathetic sons of bitches.
3) They tell Ricky it’s a boy and he gets to see his new baby in the window.
I was thinking near the end we might see Lucy, since the show is named after her, and she’s the star, and she’s the one who’s been carrying this child. I just figured people might want to see the most influential character in television history at the most significant moment in her life. But the credits will have to do.
THIS IS WHY WE MARCH.