Episode Report Card Aaron: B | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Dog Dead Afternoon
By Aaron | Season 2 | Episode 11 | Aired on 05.11.2002
Meanwhile, David has gone to meet with Harriet Sansom Harris, a.k.a. the ex-Widow DJ who's suing them. Since we're getting close to the end of another season, it must be time once again for David to deliver yet another of his steely monologues in the face of a threat to the Fisher Family. He chews the woman out for blaming Fisher & Sons for the fact that her husband used to beat her, and basically does everything short of calling her a "spineless, candy-ass corporate fuck." Suitably chastened, Ms. Harris shreds both the lawsuit and my suspension of disbelief in a single gesture, bringing the scene (and the entire plot point) to a rousing, if unbelievable, conclusion.
While smoking some more pot on The Promiscuity Palace's front porch, Brenda is approached by a couple of neighborhood kids who look to be in their early twenties. To make things easier for everyone, I've dubbed them Beavis and Buttfuck. "Yo!" says Beavis. "Spare a joint?" asks Buttfuck. Brenda considers them for a moment, and then stands up without a word and heads inside, taking off her shirt as she goes. The boys look at each other for a moment, unsure if they're really seeing what they think they're seeing, then follow her in.
The Ironic Segue Fairy shows up to cut us over to the Freudian jackhammer motion of a sewing machine needle, as Claire works feverishly to assemble a pair of pants. Meanwhile, DangerSlut is trying on her new halter top and talking to the mirror. "You looking at my tits?" she asks. "I'm talking to you. Yeah, you. You looking at my tits?" Do I even need to say it? Everyone is looking at your tits, for God's sake. That's why we call you DangerSlut. Claire holds up the completed pants, and they're a hideous collection of various different fabrics, with the added bonus of being covered in little bells. "So when you walk, it makes music," she says, before launching into a long, drug-induced rant about how the problem with the world is that no one takes the time to be creative in every single thing they do. "Martha Stewart does," replies Parker, and my chortling is interrupted by Ruth, who's brought some sandwiches for the girls. DangerSlut isn't even the least bit hungry, but Claire is too stoned to maintain her sullen façade. "We'll eat them later," she says, before offering the musical pants to her mother. Ruth is taken aback by the gift, and even more surprised when Claire leaps into her bosom and gushes, "I love you, Mom. I never tell how you much, because I'm afraid to for some reason, but right now I just want you to know that I love you and think you're so beautiful." Heh. Only on Six Feet Under would 'shrooms bring a mother and daughter closer together. Well, maybe also on America Undercover, but it's definitely an HBO-only phenomenon.
And I do hope you kids have been paying close attention this week. Remember, drugs are good. Sex is bad. As proof, we cut back to Brenda and her stoner buddies. Whether or not Buttfuck is actually living up to his name in this shot remains undetermined, but Beavis is toking up a joint, and Brenda looks like she's dead. Is everyone involved with this show frigid? Seriously. I've never seen a group of people who seem to enjoy sex less. And it's not just Brenda and her self-destructive behavior. There hasn't been a healthy, affection-based sex scene all season. In fact, the only person who seemed to be enjoying himself was the Little White Sex Dork, and he got his ass dumped for his troubles. Anyway, while Buttfuck thrusts away, Brenda visualizes her younger self, seated on the bedroom's Window Ledge Of Emotional Redemption.