Episode Report Card M. Giant: A | 3 USERS: A+ YOU GRADE IT Dead and Buried
By M. Giant | Season 5 | Episode 12 | Aired on 08.20.2005
Claire's Prius drives on through the desert at a normal speed.
The back door opens on an armored car marked "Charles Security." Keith, uniformed and gray-goateed, starts to unload it. Before we can wonder why the owner of the company is also the driver, Keith is shot by Kevlared robbers. Keith Dwayne Charles (1968-2029) maybe should have rethought his vocation.
Claire drives on, in late-afternoon sunlight.
In a white room, Claire marries Senator Ted. The front row on one side, from left to right, is Anthony's husband, Anthony, and David. The other side of the aisle might be Durrell, Durrell's wife, and their biracial child. Brenda and her husband, both graying, look on approvingly from further back. Claire kisses Ted and smiles at everyone, embarrassed at how much her straight blonde hair makes her look like Shelley Long. Applause.
Claire drives in the opposite direction now. Did she change her mind?
At a huge family picnic, Fishers, Chenowiths, Charleses and more swarm around a park. A bespectacled Brenda and Claire sit at a table and talk while Claire tries to keep the wind from blowing the hair out of her face and showing how not 61 she is. Sitting next to a gray-haired, balding, mustachioed Durrell, a serene and bald-topped David happily watches the kids play football. And then Keith -- young, strong, and handsome -- catches the ball and turns to smile at David James Fisher (1969-2044), who topples backwards off his bench. Those Fishers sure know how to ruin a picnic.
See Claire drive. Drive, Claire, drive.
On a cruise ship of the future, an unclearly-seen old man in a green shirt, brown shorts, and Panama hat gets up, twiddles his wife's toes, and heads off to the bathroom or something. But he doesn't get more than a couple of steps before feeling in vain for his pulse and collapsing on the deck. Hector Federico Diaz, (1974-2049) has finally shut up.
Claire drives. It's later in the afternoon. It's so pretty.
In a living room of the future, Billy -- wearing something on his head that was fashioned out of a bald wig and white dryer lint -- yammers on about Ted and closure and emotional responses while Brenda, completely white-haired and papery-skinned, listens patiently. Finally she decides, Oh, fuck this noise, and tips her head back to stare at the ceiling. Billy says her name, but she's unresponsive. You might think that Billy finally bored Brenda Chenowith (1969-2051) to death, but I prefer to think that she's faking.