Flashback. 1986.
Regina: Dude. Lena. What're you doin' on Saturday night?
Lena: Ha. Very funny.
Regina: Huh?
Lena: That's funny. You're not usually this funny before Algebra. Heh.
Regina: What the fuck are you talking about?
Lena: Saturday. "What're you doin' on Saturday night?" Heh. Hilarious.
Regina: Uh. I wasn't trying to be funny, Lena. I realize this might come as quite a shock to you. Me being funny and all without trying.
Lena: Uh. What?
Regina: What. Are. You. Doing. On. Saturday. Night? It's a fairly simple question.
Lena: Are you high?
Regina: Yes, Lena. I'm high. I'm an eighteen-year-old cynic who abhors most of her peers. I'm a likely candidate for ganja.
Lena: Sorry. I forgot.
Regina: So?
Lena: "So" what?
Regina: Work with me, Lena. Saturday. Do you have plans?
Lena: Reg.
Regina: Yeah?
Lena: Reg.
Regina: What?
Lena: It's the prom on Saturday, Reg.
Regina: Prom? We have a prom?
Lena: Okay. Now you're being funny.
Regina: The Prom is on Saturday night?
Lena: Shhh.
Regina: OUR PROM IS ON SATURDAY NIGHT?
Lena: Reg.
Regina: AS IN TWO DAYS FROM NOW?
Lena: Dude. DUDE.
Regina: [quietly] Okay. Lemme get this straight. The prom. This Saturday.
Lena: [warily] Yeeeesss...
Regina: [dangerous whisper] As in the prom that I have not been asked to?
Lena: [searching for exit] Uh, yeah. That's the one.
Regina: [deadly] Yeah.
Lena: [nervously] You okay?
Regina: [anything to the contrary] Mm-hm.
Lena: [tentatively approaching] Reg?
Regina: [blankly staring] Yuh?
Lena: You okay?
Regina: [straightening up] Huh? Oh. Yeah. Sure. Fine. Great. Fabulous.
Lena: [hesitantly] Okaaaay...
Regina: Why wouldn't I be fine? Hm? I mean, really? I've just not been invited to the single most [screaming at the top of her lungs] IMPORTANT EVENT OF MY FUCKING HIGH-SCHOOL CAREER BECAUSE NOT ONE OF THE EMOTIONAL REPROBATES AT THIS SCHOOL CAN GET IT UP LONG ENOUGH TO MUSTER THE COURAGE TO ASK ME TO WEAR A STUPID OVER-PRICED SATIN DRESS AND DANCE TO "SHOUT" WHILE THEY PUKE ALL OVER THE FLOWER ARRANGEMENTS.
Lena: [again seeking exit] Uh.
Regina: [turning to Lena with laser-sharp eyes] WHY SHOULD I NOT BE FINE? HUH? WHAT'S NOT TO BE FINE ABOUT? I'M A FUCKING LOSER SENIOR WITH RED HAIR AND TERRIFYINGLY WHITE SKIN AND AN ALARMING INTELLECT AND I'M NOT GOING TO FUCKING PROM BECAUSE EVERY SINGLE HUMAN WITH A...
Fifteen years later, I have learned that none of it, not one single iota of it, mattered. Not the prom. Not my friends. Not the prom and my friends. It didn't matter. ["I never went to Prom either." -- Wing Chun] And now. Now. I have to recap an episode of American High that revolves almost completely around the high school prom. I may very well kill someone. No. I'm not kidding. Fasten your seatbelts, children. You may be in for a bumpy, angst-filled ride. Let us begin.
Under the white-on-black credits, we hear Kiwi and his hair-cuttin' mama discussing partying after prom at Kiwi's house. "I am legally responsible for you," says Kiwi's mum. "And I am legally responsible for any friend of yours who comes here." "It's not like I get drunk every weekend here, Mom," says Kiwi, as the camera shows Kiwi in all his gray jocko-shirt-sporting glory. "This is the last time I'll ever ask you, in your lifetime, can I have a party in my house? For Prom, we're going downtown. That's given. That's the last hurrah." "I don't have a problem with it," says Kiwi Mum. "I have a problem with you drinking. Why don't you go...Cosmic Bowling?" What? Is there such a thing? Can we reach the stars through bowling? Or is there a Cosmic Bowling Palace? Because Kiwi actually puts his poor non-field-goal-making head down upon his non-football-catching arms and shakes his skull in frustration. What, is the "Cosmic Bowling" on some other planet? What in the holy hell is his mother talking about? Because I don't know. I surely don't know.
Ew. Abalone. CrAbby. "CrAbby" has been introduced in the forums and I think I'll make it real here. CrAbby is on camera, and she's basically using the same form of repetition that worked so well on her ex-friend Brad. "Prom," she says. "Prom. Prom. Prom. Prom." She repeats this word, over and over again, while flicking her dyed blonde hair over her manicured fingertips. "Prom. Prom prom prom." Shut up, CrAbby. Shut up before I send some well-endowed Italian to kill you.
Then Suzy's on camera saying, "Everyone wants to go to their senior prom, right?" Right, Suzy. It's true. Everyone wants to go to their senior prom. Even people who say they don't want to go to their senior prom want to go to their senior prom. Even people who didn't go to their senior prom who say they didn't want to go to their senior prom and that it's a stupid bourgeois tradition that has no business occurring in today's society want to go to their senior prom. Do I lie? ["I really didn't want to go to my senior prom and I don't regret not going. But carry on." -- Wing Chun] Suzy goes on to say, "For twenty years, even though it's just one little night of your life, it seems so pathetic to look back and go, 'No, I didn't go to my senior prom.' Everybody has to go to prom." I didn't go to my senior prom. Yes, I wanted to. No, no one asked me. Yes, I felt pathetic. No, I didn't sit home alone. Yes, I got dressed up, went downtown with a couple of girlfriends, saw Little Shop of Horrors at the Royal George Theatre, went to dinner at Hamburger Hamlet, flirted with the gay waiters, thanked them profusely when they snuck us a couple bottles of wine, drove back to President-Elect Mo's house, stayed up until dawn drinking straight out of bottles of cheap champagne that our extremely cool parents had purchased for us, and finally trudged over to Calla's place the following day for post-prom brunch and mimosas with a bunch of our friends. I didn't go to my senior prom. But I also didn't lose my virginity in the back of a rented limo. Everything's a give and take, people.
Back at the student prom montage...Blah blah blah the kids all want to go to prom, blah blah blah Allie doesn't have a boyfriend, blah blah blather SCOOTER'S KISSING SOMEONE! Ew. And in case I pass out due to disgust and forget to say it, EW.
And now, for the first time since missing the important field goal, Captain Kiwi has his very own personal segment. He tells us that he and his girlfriend (remember her? Yeah, the one with the dark roots and the Anna-envy. Her) recently broke up. Kiwi gets out of bed and readies himself for school as he explains why they broke up. Yeah, like we need a transparency and an overhead projector to help us understand why high-school romances end. Someone grab me an Encyclopedia Britannica -- I'm baffled over here. Sans educational tools, though, Kiwi then attempts to explain the reasoning behind the breakup to a friend of his in the cafeteria. "There was this whole dilemma, like, about this other guy...and I couldn't be with her if there was this other guy...remember I told you about this fucked-up guy...so...I just couldn't..." Then he looks off into the distance, his tenuous grasp on the English language escaping him.
"I'm Morgan Moss, I'm a senior at Highland Park High School, and this is the worst year of my life," Morgan says in a voice-over. Word, Morgan. Seriously. I'm Regina Rouge, I'm drinking a tasty Bloody Mary right now, I'm single, and this has been the worst two months of my life (recapping AH, hanging out with Sars when she was in town, and an endless supply of left-over vodka notwithstanding). Morgan's saying that he and Salima have always had problems due to her parents; he's addressing an envelope and wrapping up a little package in red heart paper. God, he's a cutie. But maybe that's just the vodka talking. Even though Morgan thinks he and Salima are together, he's completely barred from talking to or hanging out with her due to her failing grades and her over-protective parents. The only time he can see her is at school. "I'm just sick of it," says Morgan.
Hallowed HPHS Halls of Justice. Salima's getting a birthday hug from a friend who notices that someone did a number on Salima's locker. No, not that kind of number. Get your minds out of the gutter. The "Happy Birthday Salima" kind of number: banners, posters, stickers -- the works. Morgan walks up, hands her his carefully wrapped gift and card, hugs her, wishes her a happy birthday, and then walks off. Salima walks away from her locker as her voice-over informs us that she's kind of not allowed to date Morgan right now. And I have to give snaps to the editor and director of this show because just as the words "not allowed to date him right now" come out of her mouth, the crap on her locker just peels off and falls to the ground. You can't ask for a more perfect illustration of love gone wrong. Yes, I'm stretching. No, you don't get to tell me that I'm stretching. Just be quiet and pay attention. As Salima opens her card and gift in the library, she tells us that her father has laid down the law and stated that she's not allowed to date Morgan anymore because he only brings trouble. It's true, I know, judging from viewings of their turbulent relationship, but I still feel kind of bad for them. They're sweet. I mean, they're sweet in a Natural Born Killers sort of way. Yes, I'm kidding. No, I'm not drunk yet.
Lockers of Lost Youth. Anna's getting ready to leave for the day (at least I think she's leaving; there's fluorescent lighting so I have no idea if it's morning, noon, or night) and telling her friend that she wants to change her shirt. Why is this important? Yeah, I don't know either. As Anna walks through a park, she tells us in her voice-over that she's really sad right now, and that she misses having a boyfriend. It becomes apparent that she's walking toward a skater park. She says that she's been talking to her "camp" friend, Travis, a lot. By "camp," I'm assuming she doesn't mean "wearing a feather boa and singing show tunes." Let's just assume it means "a friend from camp," and leave it at that. She wants to get to know him better, but she doesn't think he's picked up on it yet. Of course, after she has a three-second conversation with him about how he scraped the whole side of his butt and acts all dewy-eyed and interested, I'm beginning to wonder (a) why he hasn't picked up on it yet and, (b) why she'd give this doofus the time of day. Anna and her compatriot-in-bad- high-school- boy-conversation walk off as Travis sarcastically and with almost no maturity says, "Thanks for stopping by." That Travis. He's a real mover. In Anna's car, her compatriot tells her that she intimidates guys because she's so pretty. "I gave him all the signs," says Anna, obviously frustrated that Travis isn't punching his staples into her papers. Wow. That was an extremely bad sexual innuendo. And I don't mean "bad" as in "wicked." I mean "bad" as in "I'd better have some more vodka and smoke another cigarette and consult Roget's Thesaurus before continuing this recap." Know what? There's something wrong with the universe when a pretty, intelligent, funny, charismatic girl like Anna can think that a guy, any guy, doesn't like her. And, no, I'm not using my own personal experience as something to draw on. I was weird and outspoken and smart-ass and irritated in high school; Anna's a completely different animal. This girl can't get a date or a boyfriend? Dude. PABLO GOT A GIRLFRIEND. There is something seriously wrong here.
Love's Labour's Lost Bus of Ultimate Transportation. Morgan exits the bus as Salima wonders whether she's supposed to come with him. Morgan's all, "Whatever. Up to you." Salima huffily follows him off the bus. As they walk home along the tree-lined streets of Highland Park, Morgan tells us, "She's grounded. She can't talk on the phone. She's not allowed to see me. She's not even supposed to see me at school. I've explained it so many times; I'm just so tired of it. I would rather have it over because I'm worried about her."
Heh. Heh heh. No, I'm not laughing at Morgan's pain. I'm laughing at The Sunshine Lady, who is once again making an appearance. Heh. In the last recap, I made some rather, er, disparaging remarks about The Sunshine Lady. I got called on the carpet for it (in a really nice way) by ViVA86, a current student at HPHS and one of the posters. I had just never come across anything quite like a middle-aged high-school administrator referring to herself as "The Sunshine Lady," and it baffled me. But now I'm used to it. And now she's hilarious. After the non-commercial, The Sunshine Lady speaks: "Good morning, Highland Park. This must be the voice of the District 113 Sunshine Lady [Is there a District 115 Sunshine Lady? Or a District 229? Is this a trend of which I am not aware? Heh] with our first announcements in May. And of course, we all remember this weekend is Prom, and pastel dresses continue to reign. However, there's a new design out for this year and it's that one-shoulder, spaghetti-strap design [ew]. They do look kind of cute, but let me suggest that if Mother Nature really amply endowed you [HEE], the structural flaws of spaghetti straps suggest you may want to select another style." Oh. My. God. If my lungs weren't already contaminated with twenty years of cigarette smoking, they'd be collapsing due to the laughter I am currently bombarding them with. Hee. And hee. I think I lurve this woman. As ViVA86 said in an email to me, "[The Sunshine Lady] once remarked about pantyhose and that too many times she sees sausage legs -- two sausages in a one-sausage package." HA! Since the Sunshine Lady recently retired, maybe I can look into nabbing that job when my current day job goes under. I need options, people!
Sorry. Back at the school...Kiwi's sitting at a table full of girls and telling us in a voice-over that every guy goes through a stage where he freaks out and thinks he needs a girlfriend. "I like 'em a lot," says Kiwi. "I like their species." Dude. We're not a species. We're your species. You know, human? But I get where you're coming from. We might as well be a different species. We're very weird, us girls. Why do you think I prefer the company of men? Girls are bizarre. The only friends I have that are girls are girls who are more like guys than girls. Does that make sense? They fart, belch, drink beer, curse...all I'm saying is, most girls are too difficult to understand. So I get it when Kiwi says, "But, I'm not too good with them. I'm, like, shy. And I'm, like, a pussy when it comes to girls." Welcome to the world, Kiwi. Everyone's a pussy when it comes to girls. Even girls.
Kiwi's Kool Krib o' Kuddling. Kiwi's on the phone with a girlfriend of his. No, not that kind of girlfriend -- the kind you call when you have questions about other girls. Kiwi tells the friend that she's had so much more experienced than he is, and that this intimidates guys. She argues that the first, like, even, kissing experience she had was second semester of freshman year. "Yeah, see? Guess when mine was?" Kiwi retorts. "When?" his non-sexual girlfriend asks. "Four months ago," divulges Kiwi. "Really? Ohhhh," gushes his non-sexual girlfriend. "Yeah, 'Ohhh,'" says Kiwi, fully knowing his power as a full-fledged high school male virgin. It gets the girls, no doubt about that. We like a clean slate. "Are you quote-unquote attracted to anybody?" asks the non-sexual girlfriend, obviously baiting him into announcing his attraction to her. "There's a lot of girls -- you girls -- that I'm attracted to," says Kiwi, managing to include the non-sexual girlfriend in that dash-dash "you girls" inclusion. Way to make a save, Kiwi. Too bad you couldn't make a save like that on the field! Oh. That was bad, wasn't it? Yeah. It was. I'd take it back but, you know, it's still funny.
Okay, and then there's this scene between the non-sexual-girlfriend and Kiwi, lying around on the grass, talking about Prom and relationships, interspersed with Kiwi interviewing himself in practical darkness about Prom and relationships and, you know, if I cared, I'd repeat the entire thing here but, I'm already at, like, fifty pages and I'd like to get this recap done before the damn season is over.
Anna's Bedroom of Non-Boyfriend Activity. Anna's going through her closet, dressed in blue jeans and a tank top, her hair piled on top of her head, her compatriot sitting cross-legged on her bed. They're talking about Prom. Shocker. Anna pulls on a gray tank top as the camera manages to catch her tummy and then her hips ensconced in black bikini underpants. Okay, did the ratings just peak? The hell? Too bad this ain't on some channel other than PBS. Millions of teenage boys might have just excused themselves to go to the bathroom. As it is, it's just a smattering of over-thirty men, excusing themselves from their living rooms and wives, saying that they have to go "check on something" in the basement. As Anna puts on overalls and makeup, in that order, she tells us that she's not really enjoying high school, and that no one knows about her and who she's been with, and that people have thought that she's stupid and a slut. What? I'm so confused. Isn't she, like, a brain or something? I have to go check out the PBS website in order to determine whether Anna's a slag with a deserved reputation or just, you know, shy. "I want the guy to approach me. I want to be pursued, you know?" she says loudly into her mirror as she eats something resembling Sour Patch Kids. Her eyes suddenly start darting toward the door. "I hope my dad isn't home. I really hope he's not home." Anna runs off to check and see whether her father's home. As we see her father getting into his car, Anna says in a voice-over, "My dad comes from a strict Latino family. Very conservative. Girls are supposed to be submissive to the fathers and to the men." Okay. That shit ain't right. It just ain't right. What, is this a Muslim state? Do women wear sheets on their heads? No? That's what I thought. "Submissive" my ASS. "I know what guys are after, you know? I have to protect her from guys who want to take advantage of her. I don't want anybody taking advantage of her. That's why I have to make sure guys keep their paws off my daughter, you know? I don't like that."
Morgan Motor Vehicle. In a voice-over, Morgan says, "I get a phone call from Salima saying, 'My parents said I can't go to Prom.'" Salima's sitting in the passenger seat, pouting. "We just won't go, it's fine," she says. "No. We gotta go," says Morgan. "No, we don't," says Salima. Morgan goes on to tell us in a voice-over that Prom was his promise to himself that he would go to one school dance. "Sorry I fucked up the plans, okay?" Salima says sulkily. "It's just...it's not my fault." As they drive along Route 41, Morgan speeds up, and Salima asks him to slow down because she's feeling nauseous. So am I. But it's not the driving that's causing my stomach to churn. Goddamn vodka.
At a picnic table outside of the school, obviously on some other day, Salima says to her friends, "I have a breakup story for you. I broke up with Morgan." There's a lot of conversation about this, none of which I can understand. It's a lot of "pick a little, talk a little, pick a little, talk a little, CHEEP CHEEP CHEEP, talk a lot, pick a little more." And if you don't know what I'm referring to, then you should all go out and see The Music Man and leave me the hell alone.
Elsewhere at the school, Morgan's confiding in his very own non-sexual girlfriend. "I'm not goin' to Prom because of her," Morgan says. His non-sexual girlfriend says that there are plenty of girl-fish in the high-school-prom sea. Morgan protests that he's not gonna go to Prom with some other chick after breaking up with his girlfriend of one year. Morgan thinks about all the things he wanted to do with Salima, but never got to do.
Meanwhile, Salima yammers at her girlfriends that she never planned to have a boyfriend in high school. The girlfriends yammer at her about planning and boyfriends and falling in love. "What's going on right now," says Salima, "these are all the reasons I didn't want a boyfriend." She tells us in a voice-over that she's just going to take it day by day and she's not going to be depressed. Of course, it's hard not to get depressed when you open your locker and it's riddled with pictures of Morgan in a tiger suit. Either because it's depressing not to be with him or just depressing to see him in a tiger suit.
In his room, Morgan's listening to music to slit your wrists by, as he tells us in a voice-over that he's had a week of being pissed off, a week of not sleeping, and a week of devoting himself to this one thing. He traces Salima's name in the dust on his TV screen as he tells us, "My only drawback with Salima was, I could never find anyone better. And, to this day, I don't know if I could find anyone better. That's the hardest part about breaking up with her. She wasn't just some common girl. She molded me and I molded her." I'd like to state, right now, for the record, that I adore Morgan. Unequivocally. And I can't wait for him to grow up and become the man I always knew he could be.
"Desperate times call for desperate measures," says yet another student I don't know in the theme montage. Behind him is a bed with a heart painted in scattered yellow rose petals. Awww. Another girl in overalls (who the hell is this?) looks at a yellow poster board with "HOW ABOUT PROM?" written on it. Allie tells her mother that a guy named "Rob" asked her to prom. The guy I don't know is on again saying, "I hope she says yes. I hope she doesn't start crying or anything like that either." Hee. Overall Girl tells her phone friend, "He asked me." Allie tells her mother that Rob wrote her a little love note in Latin, saying that her skin is like milk. Allie's mother once again places herself firmly in the "Parents Who Have No Tact" division by stating, "I think I'm gonna be nauseous." Way to go, Mama Allie. ["Um. I guess I'm old. But I feel her." -- Wing Chun] Then the guy I don't know has his prospective prom date enter the room and asks her from behind the camera whether she'll go to prom with him. She spins around and around as she says, "I can't believe you're doing this." I guess she says "yes" because the guy I don't know says, "I'm goin' ta Prom!"
Papa Morgan's Car of Caring. "What's happening with Salima?" Papa Morgan asks. Morgan, in the back seat, says, "Dad, I've never told you about my relationships. Why do we have to start today?" "Well, because this is the only relationship you've ever had, and it's lasted over a year, and it sounds like it's newsworthy to me," says Papa Morgan, angrily. Way to go Papa Morgan! Dude! You're pissed that your son won't involve you regarding his relationship! That is so cool! No, I'm not being sarcastic. Shut up. Morgan goes off, saying that he's supposed to be involved in a dysfunctional family relationship with parents who don't give a shit about him and that's all he asks of them. Too bad they're not complying with his wishes. Too bad they're not the average parental units who don't give a good goddamn about their kids and the events that shape them. Morgan reminds his father about Salima and the grade situation. Morgan's dad says that Salima's dad has been a pain in the ass about her grades and their relationship since day one. Morgan says that if he gets out of the relationship, then he's not hurting her. He just has to find a date for Prom. I think Morgan should not go to prom and go to the movies with Salima instead. Fuck her father. Papa Morgan'll cover for 'em. I'm pretty certain of it.
Kiwi's delivering pizzas and saying that he had an interest in taking some girl to Prom (whom we can only suppose is the non-sexual girlfriend), but she's waiting for some other guy to ask her. "If girls wanna go to Prom," he says, "they better start showing a little appreciation, you know? Because we try hard, you know? And they're not helping out at all. But, whatever, you know? We'll see. We'll definitely see what happens." Oh, will we, Kiwi? Will we? Will that be before or after you deliver that pepperoni with onions? You've been soooo active in your perusal of a potential prom date. We should be so lucky as to see you show up at some girl's door with a double cheese anchovy and a handwritten invitation to the prom. Work on your dating skills, dude. They are suffering.
Switch to Anna lying on her bed and writing in her journal. Okay, are the producers just trying to put Kiwi and Anna together in our minds? Why have we seen nothing of either of them for most of this season except for the Kiwi + Anna + Bad Roots Girl episode and now this juxtaposition of their two personal entries? Way to create a rumor, AH producers. Seriously. "I really want to make Prom, like, the last big going-out event in high school," says Anna in a voice-over. As Anna lies in her bed, looking out at nowhere, her voice-over says, "But the guys that'd maybe ask me have...different motives...or, like, don't really want to get to know me or judging [sic] me by how I look. So, yeah, I am maybe overly cautious." Somewhere else in Anna's house, Anna's dad says, "When she didn't get asked to Prom, she was so hurt. I felt so sorry for her. 'Cause no one asked her out." Remember that recap I did where I bitched about her dad? And how he didn't talk to her? I believe I called him "The Man Who Said Little." Little did I know that he said little because the director and producer didn't let him. Now I'm kind of liking Anna's daddy. But not in that way. Don't you go thinking that.
Hallowed Halls of Hell. Girls and guys are hugging. I'm assuming this means that guys have asked girls to Prom. Awww. Like I care.
At a table in the cafeteria, Kiwi stands up. His voice-over says, "Someone just said, Shanna hasn't been asked to Prom. I'm like, 'Shanna!' I just think she's a really nice person. She's gorgeous and she's fun -- you know, I like her. You know, she's just the girl you wanna talk to and go up to and just say, 'Hi!'" thing we know, Kiwi's walking down the Hallowed Halls with a bouquet of flowers and Shanna's just sitting in class, doodling on her notebook and not paying attention to the teacher. Kiwi's being carried along the arms of his soldiers (not literally -- work with me!) as he makes his way to Shanna's classroom. Shanna's oblivious. Kiwi takes a moment outside the room and breathes deeply. His friends are beside themselves. They're hitting each other and making personal notes in their imaginary notebooks for romantic moments they'd like to perform in the future. Kiwi knocks on the classroom door. Shanna looks up, but doesn't even look toward the door -- even though there's a goddamn camera in her face thereby announcing to her that SOMETHING IMPORTANT IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN. Although, in her defense, maybe she was used to the camera in the face, and didn't realize that KIWI WAS COMING IN THE DOOR WITH FLOWERS. He saunters in and hunkers down on bended knee with flowers presented and says, "Will you go to Prom with me?" Shanna blushes, hugs Kiwi, and then tells him to go ask Anna out for Prom, because she happens to be busy on prom night due to an emergency phone call from John Taylor of Duran Duran and is regretfully unable to attend the festivities. "John just needs me there," she says, flicking her hair. "I can't let him down." Yeah. That was my fantasy. Read it and weep. It got me through several lonely nights so don't turn your nose up at it! By the way, John and I are having drinks Tuesday. Apparently, his breakup with Amanda de Cadenet has really hurt him. Aw. My poor, misunderstood, eighties pop-star bassist.
Over at Anna's, she's running through a list of what she thought might be her potential prom dates. The list isn't pretty. One came home from the Bahamas with a girlfriend, one asked his best friend, one she never talks to anymore, and one had asked her out during the year and she was very clear about not wanting anything, I mean anything, to do with him. "And so," she says, "this was...kind of a surprise."
"She was number one on the list. Second place would be very far," says a tall, goober-looking guy sporting a forest green oxford shirt and cheeks the color of ripe summer cherries.
"Brent and I are school friends," says Anna, searching around her room for a sharp object with which to impale her skull. "I mean, we talk in school and everything."
"I have one of the largest collections of dwarf conifers and Japanese maples in the Midwest," says Brent, wondering why he doesn't have a sharp object himself with which to impale his skull. Don't worry, Tree Boy, I've got a corkscrew here that'll do the trick. Try it on for size. Please. ["What? You didn't make up that stuff about the conifers? I thought that was a joke! Dude." -- Wing Chun]
"He sent me flowers with this card, which was really sweet," says Anna, proffering the card for our perusal. Assuming we can't read, the producers have Anna slap the card up onto the camera lens and allow Brent-Damage to read the contents aloud. "There is nothing I would love more than for you to join me for the prom. Brent."
At Conifers-Collectors Central, Brent says, "She's wonderful." This prompts me to wonder if I should check Anna's house for security measures, because -- and I don't think I'm alone in thinking this, here -- Brent looks like Ted Bundy before he started killing innocent young women.
Anna wanders around her room. "I don't have any money to buy a new dress," she says. "And, I figure, I might as well get some use out of it." She fingers a lovely champagne-colored fabric hung up against the wall like a scarf. Is it a scarf? Anna? Are you going to wear a scarf to the prom? You go, girl!
Oh, and now we're getting ready for the actual prom. Girls get manicures, Allie gets makeup put on her (which she hates, by the way -- shocker), Allie gets her hair done (which she hates, by the way -- illustrated by her sucking on a Charms Pop during the entire hair interlude), Robby shaves, Kiwi pulls out a tux, Anna's hair is piled on top of her head, Scooter pulls on his pants (ew!), Anna gets zipped in, boys put on ties, and Kaytee puts on what is obviously yet another manifestation of her mother's various acid trips (and don't give me shit about this -- it's a lampshade, people. A cherry-red, chiffon-and-feather lampshade. No, she's not kooky. Yes, she looks retarded. No, it doesn't further endear her to me. Yes, I think she shouldn't be leaving her room, let alone attending the prom). In short, the kids are READY FOR PROM.
Except for Morgan. "Oh my God, these shoes are too small," says Morgan, backward baseball cap intact. "Two of these are cufflinks," says Papa Morgan. "Put that in your sleeve and this in your sleeve." Awww. Daddy helping the Morgan to get ready. Awww. Papa Morgan asks, "You said they gave you suspenders?" "I'm not fucking wearing that," shouts Morgan as Papa Morgan pulls forth the cummerbund. "Yeah, you are fucking wearing your cummerbund," says Papa Morgan. "Can you stand still for just one minute, Morgan?" "Did you just grab my ass?" says Morgan. Hee. Okay, so, Morgan apparently decides that the monkey suit is not, for him, disrobes, and runs through the house in his boxers. "So we got him all dressed and then he took his clothes off," says Papa Morgan. "Just like when he was four."
Ack. Ow. Okay. I need to lie down now. It's 12:11 in the morning and I've been recapping this bloody episode since 7:30 PM. NAP TIME.
Awww, shit. Morgan's talking about his prom date. He met this "Jade" last year and they kind of hit it off, sort of, and then they were talking about prom and, one week later, Jade gave Morgan a ride home and he's all, "Do you wanna go?" And she's all, "You're supposed to be romantic about it." And Morgan's all, "DUDE! I had a girlfriend! A beautiful, lovely girlfriend! But she can't go with me! SHUT UP AND SAY YES!" Apparently, this wins her over because Morgan shows up at her house and...wow. She's...okay. I'm not going to be mean here but, God! She's nothing compared to Salima. I mean, REALLY! Morgan. Dude. Better not to go to prom at all than to go with that. Morgan shoves a corsage on her wrist as she goes to put a boutonnière on him. Morgan says, "Whatever you do, don't kiss me." Way to make a girl feel the full beauty of her prom experience, M. I mean...she ain't Salima but...DUDE.
Meanwhile, Salima's at home, telling us in a voice-over that she was willing to go with Morgan, against her parent's wishes, just so that Morgan could go to his senior prom. "And I was willing to face the consequences," she says, "which would probably mean getting kicked out of the house. He didn't realize that." Oh. Really? I've got a novel idea, Salima. TELL HIM. Jesus. He's a GUY. They don't know what in the hell you're talking about until you TELL THEM. Trust me. You should have told him what you were willing to do. My God. You're staying home alone tonight because you DIDN'T TELL HIM WHAT YOU WERE WILLING TO DO?! Shut up, Salima. Just shut up. Just curl up on your bed and wonder what it would have been like if you had SPOKEN.
Meanwhile, Morgan gets his picture taken with several people in formal dress; Kiwi tells Shanna she looks beautiful; some guy hangs all over Anna; and then Anna, in her beautiful dress, gets her picture taken with Brent-Damaged, who has apparently misunderstood the dress code and outfitted himself as if he were a member of the Sopranos cast. Black suit, black shirt, WHITE TIE?! God.
Oh, Jesus. We're at Brent's place, and he's showing Anna his collection of TREES. ["No, he fucking well is not. What? He is? DUDE." -- Wing Chun] "This is actually," says Brent-Damaged, "one of the largest collections of dwarf conifers and Japanese maples in the Midwest." Anna drops down to her knees and begs Brent-Damaged to take her as his wife, because his knowledge of obscure foliage awes her to her very core. "Take me, Brent-Damaged!" she shrieks, grinding her hips on his rented shoe. "Take me and make me YOUR DWARF CONIFER!!" Except she so doesn't. And I so want to kick Brent-Damage in the teeth.
And now. Prom.
Limos. Revolving doors. Girls in makeup. Girls with their hair done. Guys in suits that belong on Best Men at weddings. Children attempting to act like adults. Morgan chomping on tasty treats. Allie dancing like she's at a Dead concert. Shocker. Brad dancing with Roadster. Scooter. Ew. Scooter.
And then they announce the Prom King and Queen. Who? Who do you think?
Yeah. It's Anna. Yeah, she can't get a date. Yeah, she can't get a boyfriend. Yeah, SHE'S PROM QUEEN. How in the hell did that happen? Hm? The prom queens at my school were primarily those who had screwed half the football team beneath the bleachers before Homecoming. Anna? And this is a girl who is hurting for male companionship. God. She's gonna be a fucking Senator someday. Or President. President! She'll be the first woman President! God, Anna rocks. Anna's all, "Prom Queen wasn't a big deal." She got a cool t-shirt and everything and a nice tiara. Dude. YOU WERE PROM QUEEN. That is SO not a half-deal. That is a BIG deal in your high school career. At least, as far as self-esteem counts. In the real world, it doesn't mean dick.
Meanwhile, Morgan's dancing with Jade (or Jane -- I think Morgan might have a sinus problem) and going on in a voice-over that he wanted to be there with Salima, but that it didn't work out that way. He looks terribly unhappy. Sorry, Jade. You might be in his arms, but there's another girl in his heart.
Shanna and Kiwi get their picture taken together, and Kiwi's about a foot shorter than Shanna. But they look so happy, who the hell cares? Kiwi says something in a voice-over to the effect that it's one of those times that you just take a chance, and they both had a really good time. Anna dances with Brent-Damage; she says that she had a really good time,that Brent-Damage was really sweet, and that she was happy that she got the chance to go to Prom.
"We had a good time, I guess," says Morgan in a voice-over/video interview combo. "The band sucked. The people were fake. The people all wanted to be grown-ups and stuff like that. Everybody all [sic] tried to act like adults, when we all should be acting like kids because that's what we are. I mean, it's our last dance. We should be, like, blowing it out, not being all, like, conservative."
Outside the hotel/dance hall/convention center, Morgan -- holding up a picture of himself and Jade together -- says, "That's what it's all about. Paying a hundred dollars to get a crappy fifty-cent frame." He goes on to swear some more about something else, but I can't understand it. Then we're in Morgan's bedroom, and he's lying on his bed talking about the prom, and swearing, and Morgan says, "We got fucked on the...excuse me, we got screwed on the limo service --" and then a framed poster of falls off the wall behind him and hits his foot. Morgan giggles. "Heh," he says. "That sucked."
Heh. So does my life. Where's the vodka? Hm? WHERE?
time: the kids face the reality of moving out for college or moving out for real.