Kevin explains the "D-Trip": "It’s when you realize your life isn't a B-movie. It's not even a C-movie. It's a D. Direct-to-video. No theatrical release. Your parents won't even stream it."

Season 2, Episode 1 of Party Down is a downer masterpiece. It took the show’s formula—sex jokes, celebrity cameos, and shattered egos—and distilled it into pure, bitter espresso. If Season 1 asked, "Can you make it?" this episode answers: "No. Now pass the prosciutto-wrapped melon."

The answer is a "D-Trip." The episode opens at a high-concept, low-rent party for a faux-avant-garde performance artist named Jackal Onassis (a brilliant parody of '90s shock artists like Karen Finley). The "backstage party" is actually a dingy theater lobby where the "talent" smears chocolate on themselves while reciting nihilistic poetry.

That is the thesis of Party Down Season 2. Season 1 had hope. Season 2 has the D-Trip. Henry looks at Kevin—a younger, fatter, louder version of his own failure—and sees his future. The horror on Adam Scott’s face as he hands Kevin a tray of shrimp cocktail is funnier and more tragic than any monologue about the death of a dream. Watching "Jackal Onassis Backstage Party" today is a strange experience. It aired in 2009, deep in the recession. The joke was that catering was the last stop before homelessness. Now, in the gig economy, the joke lands differently. It’s less satire and more documentary.

If you only know Party Down from its recent third season, you might not understand the specific, agonizing magic of the show’s early days. Season 1 ended on a gut-punch: aspiring actor Henry Pollard (Adam Scott) decided to give up on Hollywood entirely and commit to the pink bow tie full-time. Season 2, Episode 1, "Jackal Onassis Backstage Party," had to answer a simple question: What does surrender look like?