That Jillian Bell reveal is way funnier than it has any right to be.

Is there anything that more embodies that turn of the millenium, post-Y2K triumph of The Year of Our Lord 2001 than a bunch of steamy-eyed, muscle-bound rev-heads cruising around in suped-up Honda Civics, listening to Ja Rule, drinking Coronas and trying to get that all-time, life-changing score of DVD players?