Nigel and David tell Marty about Spinal Tap's first big single: "Listen to the Flower People." That's probably some good advice, especially if you're looking for solid gardening tips.
We see the fledgling group performing their hit on "Jamboreebop" back in 1967. It seems like a big break for Derek, who gets entrusted to sing the word, "Shhh." Hey, he's just happy for the solo opportunity.
The band reveals that yet another drummer of theirs died "in mysterious circumstances." The guy literally exploded on stage. Now that's rock n' roll.
At Shank Hall in Milwaukee, the band is doing a mic test in preparation for their next gig (which, hopefully, won't be canceled).
The band's personal Yoko Ono, David's squeeze Jeanine, shows up to crash their party.
This causes Nigel to sneer. Like…more than usual.
Ian gathers everyone together in the mostly empty auditorium, as the jacket covers for "Smell the Glove" have arrived.
Everyone's jazzed in anticipation of the big reveal, until they realize that both sides of the cover are solid black. No type, nothing. It's not entirely shocking that these guys are not fans of a minimalist approach.
Later that night, Spinal Tap performs, singing "Rock and Roll Creation."
It goes smoothly for the most part, despite a minor mishap in which Derek is unable to emerge from his giant plastic cocoon.
But you know what they say: You incorporate giant plastic cocoons into your act, you takes your chances.
Marty talks to the drummer, Mick (while he's taking a bath, for some creepy reason), about the band's terrifying track record with drummers.
Mick insists he knew what he was getting into. Good to know he's willing to spontaneously combust for the team.
The band is living the life on their tour bus—making out with groupies, playing computer games (okay, one of those doesn't sound right).
David canoodles with Jeanine, who appears to be writing something.
The two then do some sort of Eastern philosophy "tongue" thing. It's weirder than it sounds.