Previouslies: Santos got shot. And we get to see the whole thing yet again. Great. It’s like ABC keeps trying to win over the Law & Order crowd by fooling them into thinking this is actually a crime show and this week they’ll see a gripping, torn-from-the-headlines trial followed by an inspiring “I hope we’ve all learned a lesson today about bodega crime” speech from Sam Waterston.

We open on Betty’s writing class, as some guy who’s just like Ben Foster in Six Feet Under, all angsty with sensitive girlie-man bangs in his face, reads his story about some chick who “left for Düsseldorf that morning, my heart in her backpack.”

As someone who took a fair number of these courses in college, I can tell you this is dead on. The guys always write stories about hot arty babes they allegedly hook up with in bars, and the girls all write Sylvia Plath sagas about their flirtations with various forms of mental illness they find sexy. Me? I wrote Evelyn Waugh-esque satires about contemporary suburbia. Or at least, I wish I had.

Also dead on, the other students in the class, which looks like it must be at NYU since everyone but Betty is wearing black, looks hung over, and is convinced of their own superiority. They sneer their disdain of the story, while Betty, moved to tears, applauds, earning her the sneering disdain of their professor, who is played by … Hey, it’s Alias’ Jack Bristow! And he’s given up his life of espionage but can’t get over his jonesing for torture. Hence his teaching an amateur writing workshop.

He calls Betty “Clappy,” which sounds like a nickname a prostitute might earn after Fleet Week, and draws his fingernails across the blackboard to demonstrate how the story affected him. Victor Garber gives a real scenery-chewing Paper Chasey performance here, and this is where this scene goes all wrong. Real writing professors are so burned out by years of anonymity and failure they can’t muster up the energy to correct punctuation much less come up with witty, eviscerating critiques; they usually leave that up to the other students.

Casa Suarez. Apparently Papi’s visa agreement forces him to remain on 24/7 house arrest within the kitchen with a mixing bowl grafted to his arm, since that’s the only position we see him in ever again. He’s making breakfast for Betty, who talks about how nervous she is about reading her essay that night in front of the whole class and her meanie professor.

Betty: He’s like Simon Cowell with a Pulitzer, and I can’t just be Jordin Sparks good. I have to be Kelly Clarkson "Miss Independent" good.

I don’t know if being the prose equivalent of overly emoted yet bland pop warbling is really something to shoot for.

Betty’s father says he read the story and thinks it’s good, but Betty doesn’t believe him because he always says stuff like that, like when she was 10 he told her she could be a model. This leads Hilda to remember how a guy in a car once told her she could be a model too. “I know,” says Betty. “I was the one who stopped you from getting in the car.” Heh. That was funny. Thanks Hilda. And bye bye. See you next episode.

Enter Justin’s butch evil twin. It’s like that episode of Buffy where alternative universe Willow shows up and she’s everything Willow wasn’t at the time — evil, slutty, gay — except in Season 6 she kind of wound up being all those things for real. Let me say now that if later on Justin winds up the same way he’s acting now, I’m officially ditching this show to start recapping Law & Order.

Evil Twin Justin is wearing a baggy leather jacket and hoodie, saying things like “badass,” and drinking milk right from the container. Then he burps. Oh dear. So his efforts at butching it up to please dear old dead dad have escalated from sports to juvenile delinquency. Except his entire conception of being tough seems to have come from his stint in West Side Story, like he’s going to challenge someone to a rumble with a kickass pelvic thrust. Which, come to think of it, would probably only succeed in getting his own ass kicked.

Papi and Betty are upset that Justin flunked algebra, when he never got an F before, even in the class he described as “the unhappy hour” — gym. If he’s anything like I was, he’s scraping by in gym by opting for the “no sweating necessary” block of activities like walking and badminton.

The scariest thing for me about this scene isn’t how Justin’s behaving; it’s the fact that school has started. Which means his internship at Mode has already ended, and the show never came close to exploring all the possibilities of this delicious premise. Where’s the part where Justin gets to edit Mode’s new teen fashion section? Or lunches at the Four Seasons with Wili and gets catty about Katie Couric? Or where Cheyenne Jackson guest stars and takes off his shirt? Okay, that last one isn’t about Justin so much as my own personal fantasies, but still. Sweeps month is coming, ABC, get on it.