The Good Place is a good show. But you knew that. It was a good show back in the thick of season one, and it was a good show when it dropped its big twist and Ted Danson’s evil laugh on us in the finale, and it was a good show when it came back for season two and revealed that, yes, it has a plan for dealing with all the dominos it tipped over. It was also a good show in the second season’s third episode, “Dance Dance Resolution,” which took Michael on a Groundhog Day-esque hellride of repeated failure. But you knew that, too.
The bigger issue here is restaurants. The Good Place has a long history of creating A+ fake restaurant names. My favorite example from season one is Jason’s beloved Florida eatery, Stupid Nick’s Wing Dump. And while season two started a little slower with the fake restaurants in its one-hour premiere, this week it took things to a new level. In a number of quick clips that showed Michael’s repeated failures over hundreds of attempts, we saw the signs in the Good Place’s downtown change over and over, with new establishments for each new iteration. The glimpses were brief and some of the signs were deep in the background, so it’s perfectly understandable if you missed some of them to stick with the actual plot. This is where I come in. I am here to help.
Below, please find the fake restaurants from “Dance Dance Resolution,” ranked. (And here, find the full list of options turned in by the episode’s writer, Megan Amram.) Keep in mind that I am very biased in favor of references to Seal and basketball players from the 1990s. I make no apologies for this.
Away we go.
19. Mmmm! Chowder Fountain
The Chowder Fountain isn’t technically a restaurant as much as it is a free community pool of hot soup. It’s warm milk sitting outside all day. And the title is very straightforward. I do not like the Chowder Fountain.
18. Cake Canaveral
Cake is good and so are rocket ships. Cakes shaped like rocket ships are probably good, too. I’ve never had one. I feel like I’m missing out now.
17. Steak On A Stick
Steak on a Stick is one of the many “on a stick” restaurants we see in one of Michael’s attempts at perfecting a Hell ruse. There’s something very primal about a hunk of steak on a stick. My question here is whether they mean like a big uncut ribeye on a skewer that you tear at like a huge turkey leg at a renaissance fair, or if it’s more like a Brazilian steakhouse where the waiter slice the meat off of a skewer. Not that it really makes a difference. I’ll eat a steak on a stick, either way.