Episode Report Card Sars: C- | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Keyser Snore-ze
By Sars | Season 4 | Episode 8 | Aired on 11.21.2000
GOD.
Any. WAY. So Molly asks how she can make them respect her, and Jack tells her that she has to prove it to herself, and when she believes that she's as good as the boys, everything else will fall into place. Molly's scary Mrs. Robinson sister looks on as Jack speaks. Molly asks if Jack has found a goalie yet. Jack says no. The psych-out works -- Molly asks if she can still play at goalie. Jack says yes. "Fine, bring it on," Molly says, and runs off to rejoin her teammates. Whatever. See my remarks above. Molly turns around and says that Jack "just pulled a fast one on" her, and she's going to let it slide because he's "right," but that doesn't mean she doesn't know what just happened. Uh. Okay. Jack chuckles indulgently.
Cut to Drue, hanging out on the porch of Casa Conception, formerly Reconciliation Ranch, and waiting for Dawson. Gretchen's car pulls up, and Gretchen cracks, "Whenever I see that guy, I can't help but hearing [sic] the Darth Vader theme." Way to insult the Sith lord, Gretchen. And furthermore, stow it. Dawson laughs, blathers something about a "karmic decision," and thanks Gretchen for the ride. Dawson strides up the lawn in his XXXL pants and says, "Speak of the devil." "And the devil appears," Drue grunts, clearly less than enthusiastic about hanging out with Dawson. Dawson asks what brings him by, and Drue says he wanted to thank Dawson "for last night." Ew, not like that, thank all the various gods of world religions. Dawson expositions something about running into Drue at the movies and lending him money for popcorn, blah blingety blah, and Drue blabbers about finding "at least one ally in this strange and eclectic [sic] hamlet." They shake hands. Dawson stutters that he appreciates the thought, but Drue didn't have to come all the way down to the Ranch to tell him that. Drue didn't; Dawson left The Flash's keys in Drue's car. Dawson thanks him effusively. Drue grateful blah blah blah "the new kid" blah blah blah "what goes around comes around" blah blah blah fishcakezzzzzz. Dawson: "That is so true." Well, not really, or you'd have croaked by now, Dirty Hairy.
Witterbrüder. Someone stole a dog. How do we know it isn't just lost? Footprints in the dirt. Gardener maybe, we don't know, important dog. COPS, boring, don't stay mad because of the whole wasting-your-life thing. Listen to me because I'll only say this once: if you ever care about anything, or become as good at anything, as much as I have about serving as an officer in this town, I will be shocked, so if you judge me again, I'll bitch-slap you. Sulk. Brood. Stomp.