Reader Mailbag:
1. Orthopedics, not lifts.
2. Duquesne, not CMU.
3. Special Memorial Dora Mae Cooch Spam Subject Line of The Week: "Get The Breasts You've Always Wanted!" Um…yes, please!
4. Fruit flies?
It's obviously Tim DeKay Week here on the combined television networks of Time Warner Inc. (a.k.a. The Corporation Formerly Known As AOL Time Warner, or "<"), so it seems only fitting that we open this week with a slow-motion shot of Jonesy's face submerged in a barrel of water. This aquatic image serves as a brief segue into Jonesy's memories, where we see an oddly familiar-looking gentleman in a nebulously non-team-specific baseball cap breaking our hero's knee as punishment for an unidentified sports-related infraction. Hmm. Is this guy perhaps a teammate and one of Bill Romanowksi's ancestors? Or was Jonesy supposed to throw a game, and didn't? Personally, I like to think that all he really did was leave his ace starting pitcher in for an inning too long. At any rate, said kneecapping is being delivered in what appears to be an empty prison of some sort, which leads me to wonder why they didn't let Clancy be the one to go all Byron Hadley on Jonesy's ass. Er, "knee." Now that would have really confused the kids in the speculation thread.
You can tell it's Tim DeKay Week, incidentally, because the guy has won extensive praise for his touching and sensitive portrayal of a blind minister seeking true love on Everwood, and also for being shirtless, wet, and…um, jiggly here on Carnivàle. Go Tim! Nice work, buddy. He finally pulls his head out of the barrel of water, and that strange sound you just heard was the collective gasp of a large percentage of the viewing audience (I call them the "Limpies") as they finally get a glimpse of Jonesy's rather impressive abs. After some staggering about and also some…um, jiggling, Jonesy pokes his head into a nearby tent, where he sees Pa Pimperson stretched out on the floor beside the body of his daughter. It's been just a few minutes since the end of last week's episode, and The Tinkly Piano Of Tragically Dead Harlots tinkles tragically on the soundtrack as Jonesy watches Pa Pimp grieving. Dad reaches out to pull back the sheet covering Dora's body, exposing the epithet that's been carved into her forehead, and giving us a remarkable StC score of 114 for the week. In what I can only assume is a further celebration of Tim DeKay Week, this episode actually turns out to be basically like a big, weird, bizarro Six Feet Under, complete with corpses, funerals, bad hair, and giant creepy trees. And also cigarettes, although not the kind Brenda is likely to be smoking. Pa Pimp has four smoked-out butts lined up in a row beside him, which I mention now only because it will be important later. And while Jonesy may be a voyeur, he's definitely not a necrophiliac, because the sight of Dora's uncovered corpse causes him to close the tent flap and immediately sit down to pull on his pants. That sound you just heard was the collective weeping of millions of Limpies, tinged with just a hint of perverse, fetishistic moaning over the close-up of Jonesy's heavily scarred knee.
Suddenly, Gordon Gayko comes tearing around the corner, plotzing (as he is wont to do) about the fact that the carnival is shutting down early and he's losing a chance to make some extra money. Oy. What a whiner. Of course, if you slapped some tacky diamond jewelry on him and put a Barbra Streisand CD in the guy's trailer, he'd pretty much be every eczema-encrusted aunt I've ever had. So maybe I'm just biased. In any event, Jonesy tells him about Dora Mae, and Gayko runs inside the tent and starts wailing in grief. I'm sure Pa Pimp appreciated the interruption.
Totally Irrelevant But Nevertheless Shockingly True Anecdote: Between two Jews and three gay guys at my day job, no one knew the correct spelling of the "Barbra" in "Barbra Streisand." We actually had to Google it. There's something highly unnatural about that.
Ma Cooch, meanwhile, is frantically searching all of Carnieland for her other daughter, and she's understandably a bit freaked out. She runs into Lila, who apparently has better gossip sources than Lizard Boy, because she already knows about Dora. Lila agrees to help in the search, but doesn't actually end up helping very much, because Libby and Sofie soon come strolling right down the midway with a couple of younger-looking miners in tow. Ma flips her lid and demands that Libby come with her immediately. Libby, however, responds with an eye-roll and a snarky crack about the miners not being "johnnies," so Ma doesn't get a cut. Damn. I actually missed Meadow there for a minute. But just for a minute. Ma Cooch grabs her daughter and does one of those only-on-TV slap-and-a-hug things.
Over at his own trailer, Samson is negotiating with…I don't know. The foreman? The forezombie? Whatever. He's the head dead miner. Samson is demanding justice, and he doesn't much care whether it's the guilty party or just some random miner, "as long as someone stands tall before the wagon." He further adds that the Forezombie has until morning to produce a suitable retaliatory victim, but FZ just giggles a bit and replies, "Not gonna happen, little man." Oh no he di-in't!
A few minutes later, Samson comes across Jonesy, and relates what the Forezombie told him. Then he asks if Jonesy is sober. "Enough," is the reply. Satisfied by that, Samson orders up a headcount, because "Management" wants to be sure that no one else is missing. "No more of this Management crap," snarls Jonesy. "You want me to follow orders, that's Dutch with me. But just stop spinning fairy tales. There ain't no Management." Hmm. I guess the knee bone is connected to the backbone. Jonesy also reveals that he was in Samson's trailer, and now feels free to pay no attention to the dust bunnies behind the curtain. This amazes Samson, who studies his own foreman for a moment before announcing that Jonesy is lucky to be alive. You know, because he totally could have whacked his head on the lowered ceilings and really hurt himself. Jonesy still refuses to believe in the big boss, and storms off in a huff. You know, I have to think it's at least tangentially relevant that they're having this conversation outside of Lodz's trailer.
And speaking of Lodz, he's still waiting on the hillside for Ben to emerge.
Back at Carnieland, Jonesy knocks on Samson's door and informs him that everyone is accounted for except for Ben and Lodz. Given the circumstances, you'd think he'd be at least a little bit alarmed by that turn of events, but Tim DeKay delivers the line like he's reporting nothing more important than the absence of a few extra tent pegs. I guess it doesn't really matter anyway, because Samson already knows about those two, and reveals that Management said they shouldn't worry their pretty little heads about it (by the way, do you get it? "Pretty"? "Little"? Yeah. Sorry). Samson then takes the opportunity to revisit their argument from earlier, asking if Jonesy really thinks he's been pulling the Management stories "out of [his] ass" for all these years. He also adds that it "don't mean squat" that Jonesy was in the trailer, because if Management doesn't want to be seen, well, then he simply won't be seen. "He can do that," Samson insists, almost as if he's trying to convince himself. "He can do lots of things. Except, you know, for any actual managing. That he's not so good at." Jonesy still isn't convinced. "Save it for the rubes," he mutters, before leaving Samson to stand there alone in the doorway.
St Chin's of the Holy Non-Flame-Retardant Footie Pajamas. Brother Justin sits alone in the corner of his burnt-out church, delivering an only partially coherent sermon about Abraham's near-sacrifice of his son Isaac. The basic gist of it seems to be that God relented at the last minute, and allowed Abraham to spare his child. Brother Justin, however, had his own kids fried to a tasty golden crisp. Incidentally, you do remember the children he's so broken up about, right? You know, the ones we saw singing that song the one time in that really short episode? I mean, how exactly are we supposed to get emotionally invested in Clancy's grief when the kids he's mourning got less screen time than the damn blinking fetus? Justin implores God to explain His divine plan, but all he gets in return is the sound of a door closing. He looks up, and suddenly sees the kids from his dream sequence standing in the corner of the church. He goes wild with joy, shouting "hallelujah!" and generally acting giddy because The Lord has seen fit to bring the kids back to life. Then he quickly remembers that he has a disturbing tendency to occasionally see things that aren't really there, and his smile disappears. And with that, the kids fade right back out again. Well, actually, they really sort of roll out, if you want to get technical about it. Apparently they have Segways in Hell now. Which isn't really all that surprising. Justin berates God for mocking him, and demands once again to be told what to do. Cue Iris, who enters the church to offer some lunch to her bereaved brother. You see? She's totally his Management. Clancy refuses the offer of a sandwich, and rather rudely kicks his sister out of his pity party.
Ben, meanwhile, is still stuck in the mine. He does get to wear the cool miner's hat, however, so I guess it's okay. He stumbles along through the tunnel for a bit before coming to an intersection we haven't seen before. He also finds a WW I-era gas mask hanging on the wall, and a number of burning lanterns marking a path towards an opening. He approaches slowly, and we can just barely make out a pile of bodies in the room beyond the doorway. When he reaches the opening, there's a sudden explosion, and Ben is thrown outside. Or inside, as the case may be, because he now appears to be within one of his visions. He's wearing a military uniform, and he's replaced Scudder in the "Trench" portion of the dream sequences. Like an idiot, I had just deleted the first three episodes off my TiVo two days before this one aired, so now I can't go back and check to see how close the recreation is. But it's definitely pretty close. Ben picks up the helmet, gets jostled by the explosion, and then looks down the trench to see the body of poor, unfortunate Corporal Roy being gnawed upon by Bruno The Tsarist Grizzly Bear. He then leans down to pick up a rifle, which is Private Funboy's cue to peer over the edge of the trench with his own rifle. Yeah. You've seen all this before. The bear rears up, Ben's rifle jams, he falls flat on his ass, and the bear turns and attacks Private Funboy instead.
Ben runs back to the end of the trench and tries to hide. But then he hears a voice out on the battlefield, calling for "Bruno." Intrigued, he climbs out of the trench without bothering to find another helmet, and begins searching around amongst the bodies and exploding artillery shells. See, that's when I knew for sure this was a dream. Ben's a total wuss, so there's no way he'd ever do something like that in real life. He eventually bumps into -- dun dun DUH -- Lodz. A much younger Lodz, in fact, complete with black hair and actual corneas. "Have you seen my bear?" asks Dream Lodz. Ben seems to be more shocked by this than anything else, which seems a little odd when you consider that ten seconds ago he was trapped in a coal mine, and now he's being chased around a battlefield by a wild animal and a crazed Russian soldier during a war that happened before he was even born. He asks Dream Lodz what he's doing there, which leaves DL wondering if he and Ben have ever met. Then there's a big explosion right behind them, and when the smoke clears, Ben finds himself outside the mine, supine at the feet of Real Lodz. He slowly staggers to his feet, and accepts a flask of something (absinthe?) from RL without saying a word.
Carnieland. Gayko is tenderly washing the blood out of Dora's hair, while Libby is delivering an extended monologue about the fact that she never wanted a sister. She actually wanted twin brothers instead, preferably "big-shouldered boys named Fred and Ed." Fred and Ed? Um, okay. At least she didn't say Chang and Eng. Speaking of which, we also see The Twins doing Dora Mae's nails in a nicely creepy overhead shot. When we pull back to see the entire tent, we realize that Libby has been talking to Sofie all this time. "What do you do with a sister?" she asks rhetorically. "Just fight all the time." Amen to that, sister. And while we're on the subject of sisters, incidentally, I'd just like to take a moment and say, "Happy Birthday, Rachel!" Here's hoping someone you hate dies and has to service horny zombie miners for all eternity. Pa Pimperson is still mourning quietly in the corner, and he's now got a total of fifteen cigarette butts lined up neatly in rows of six. I've been reading Cryptonomicon again recently, so I'm highly tempted to perform some sort of complex mathematical analysis on the matrices he's creating here. I'll spare you the results, however, and just light up a cigarette of my own. Flick…ahh. "Bad things happen in this world," offers Sofie, in an attempt to console her friend. "Mama says things are better in the ." Libby looks as though she'd really like to be able to believe that, but instead announces that she'll be leaving the carnival as soon as they get out of Babylon. She's going off to Hollywood to star in a short-lived college-themed sitcom on Fox. "I'm walking out with the clothes on my back," she insists. Yeah. Somehow I don't think it's the clothes that will be on their backs, if you know what I mean.
Outside the mine, Ben is chugging down whatever it was Lodz gave him to drink. Lodz, believe it or not, is actually preaching moderation. I guess he doesn't want Ben bogarting all the good wormwood. He repeatedly asks Ben what he saw in the mine, but Ben doesn't answer, and even goes so far as to pull down his sleeve and cover the letters that are still faintly visible on his arm. You know, because I'm sure that won't help rub them away any faster. "You need guidance," insists Lodz. "I can help you. You're never going to get that X-Wing out of the swamp without me." In spite of this generous offer, Ben still refuses to accept any help. "This gets tiresome," sniffs Lodz. "So I'm just going to skip straight to the end. We've already had the big reveal that Scudder is your father, but did you know that Sofie is really your sister? Or that Boba Fett is a clone? Oh, and you should also know that Adrienne Barbeau is your third cousin twice removed. Remember that when you two go 'snake hunting' week." Annoyed by the constant yammering, Ben decides to strike off down a random path in hopes of finding his way back to Carnieland. Lodz rather smarmily asks for help in getting back himself, which prompts Ben to yell back, "You know so damned much, you should know the way home." And Lodz apparently does, because he starts walking in that same direction without any assistance.
Morning in Carnieland. Jonesy is moping on Samson's front steps, where he's apparently been sitting all night. Aww, that's so cute. They're in love. Cued by some sort of internal biological clock which tells him it's time for vengeance, Jonesy knocks on the door to wake his boss. Samson opens the door almost immediately, however, and we see that he's got himself a nice shotgun. "You drinking again?" he asks Jonesy. "Looks that way," comes the reply. Heh. Jonesy asks if Samson is going to let him have the gun or not, and Samson demands to see his employee's hands. After checking them for tremors and recommending a quick session with Marge from Palmolive, Samson hands over the gun.
Over at Carnie & Diaz, meanwhile, a new shift of restorative artists has moved in to work on Dora Mae. Now it's Lila and Adrienne Barbeau, and they're draping the corpse in a bolt of silk that Adrienne got from a couple of deadbeat rubes "down in Sweetwater." She and Ma Cooch had been using it to make clothes for the girls, including "that little g-string [Adrienne] made with the roses on it." Oy. That's just disturbing on so many levels. First off, who wants to be buried in a shroud that matches their lingerie, and secondly, what kind of a mother helps sew a g-string for her daughter? My mom wouldn't even hem my jeans. When Adrienne and Lila start to cover the Dora's face, Pa Pimp protests, saying that he wants everybody "to see what they did to my little girl." Lila tears up a bit at this, and looks over to Ma Cooch for confirmation. Ma gives the tiniest of nods, and Lila turns back to uncover Dora's face. I should probably point out, by the way, that Lila is wearing a wholly inappropriate see-through burgundy dress, complete with a feather boa attachment and cleavage all the way to North Dakota. It's like something Cher would wear to Elton John's funeral.
While the funeral preparations continue, Ma walks over to Pa and tells him, "It's time to go." Then she hands him the pistol and bullets on a pillow that we saw in Ben's dreams. "You're gonna bring someone back, Felix," she demands. "Someone to stand tall before the wagon. You understand?" Yeah. Thanks for the wagon reference, Lady MacCooch.
Pa looks a bit discombobulated by this, perhaps because he's wondering why this pistol would have appeared in Ben's dreams when Ben isn't involved in this plotline and wasn't even there to see it. He steps outside the tent, where he discovers that Samson and Jonesy have rounded up a veritable posse of rousties. If you're interested in specificity, the posse members include (from right-to-left) Random Rousties #007, 911, 1492, , 7734, 1776, 5150, 227, a2 + b2 = c2, π, √384.7, Transylvania 6-5000, and 8,675,309. "We ain't coming back empty-handed," announces Samson. "Mostly because I'm gonna need the extra fingers just to count up all your names." The posse moves out, and heads off to town.
Once they're gone, Ma carries the bowl they were using to wash Dora Mae's body out behind the tent to empty it. The only problem is that it's filled with Dora's blood, which gets all over her when she tries to pour it out. You know, just in case you didn't get it last week, she now has HER DAUGHTER'S BLOOD ON HER HANDS. Lady MacCooch cries, and tries futilely to wash the blood off with water from the pump. If you listen very, very carefully, you can actually hear her whispering, "Out, out, damn spot."
Babylon. Without any doubt whatsoever, this is definitely the best shot of the entire series. It starts with a classic Sergio Leone widescreen view of a dusty mining town, but then the camera pulls back between Samson and Jonesy to perfectly frame Jonesy's shotgun at eye level with Samson's silhouetted head. They even took the time to CGI in the mine entrance on the hills in the background. Very nice. I totally want to marry that shot and have millions of its gun-toting midget babies. Twangy The Good, the Bad, and the Carnies-style guitar music plays as the posse sizes up the town. Then they size it up some more. Then they keep right on sizing it up. And then the Earth cooled, and the dinosaurs came, but they got too big and fat, so they all died and turned into oil. And then (and only then) do the rousties finally start marching on the town, led by Samson and Jonesy. Once they get down to the main drag, Jonesy splits them into three groups, one with him, and the others led by Random Roustie #1492 and The Pythagorean Roustie. Trivia fans may be interested to know that 1492's real name is "Possum," and a2 + b2 = c2 is otherwise known as "Pearl." Yeah. I'm betting they're happier with the numbers.
Back at Carnieland, Ben has finally returned to the fold. He wanders around for a bit, wondering where the hell everyone went, and then he finally runs into Adrienne. She, of course, looks thrilled to see her secret stud-muffin, and runs over to ask where he's been. He in turn asks what's wrong, and Adrienne finally manages to wipe the schoolgirl crush grin off her face long enough to reply, "Everything."
St. Chin's of the Blessed Lesser Known Eleventh Commandment: "Thou Shalt Not Use Superfluous CGI." Justin is still ranting and raving, only this time he's quoting from Luke 4:1. That whole chapter is about resisting the temptation of the Devil, and focusing on what's important while you…ooh, look! Shiny! Justin finds himself distracted by a beam of light reflecting off the shattered remnants of a window or mirror up near the ceiling, and he looks up to stare at the offending object. Just for the visualization purposes of people who didn't actually watch the episode, I'll say that it looks sort of like an upside-down tomahawk made with a wood base and sharp edges of glass. As Justin watches, the thing breaks loose from the ceiling and tumbles to the floor in a slow-motion, CGI-enhanced fall that is without any doubt whatsoever the worst shot in the entire series. And just to make it even worse, they've got some sort of rejected studio outtake from Vangelis's Blade Runner soundtrack playing in the background. Given his highly disturbed mental state at this point, it's not surprising that Clancy takes this vision as a sign. I'm not sure what exactly that sign might be telling him to do, although it my mind it involves Chief Wahoo, the Avid machine that produced that last "special" "effect," and a particularly nasty version of the tomahawk chop. Clancy may very well have a different interpretation, although he does rip off his cassock in frustration, then walk directly into the camera on his way out of the church.
Cut to the bar in Babylon, where Samson enters to find the place completely deserted. I do have to admit, that was a pretty nice transition. He and the other rousties rapidly realize that the town has been recently abandoned, with half-empty glasses of whiskey still sitting on tables in the bar. Pa Pimp wanders through the empty theater, and even stops to tap a few keys on the piano Libby was playing last week. Jonesy, however, just stomps around looking frustrated, as more and more of the rousties report finding nothing. "So how is that?" he asks Samson. "A whole town cleared out in one night? It don't make sense." Clearly Jonesy isn't as big a fan of Sir Walter Raleigh as Joey Pants claimed to be. Samson professes ignorance, and the whole thing soon devolves into yet another does-he/doesn't-he debate on the existence of Management. When Pa wanders out of the nearby theater, Jonesy loudly accuses Samson of being responsible for Dora Mae's death, right there in front of all the rousties and everything. "Now you listen to me, you sonofabitch," replies Samson. "You can drink yourself stupid, and you can go on and call me a liar, but don't you hold me up for what happened to that little girl." Tim DeKay's response to this to hawk a well-aimed loogie right at Samson's feet. And it's his week, so why not?
And then something really weird happens, because Gabriel walks right up to Samson and says, "There's no one here." Damn. He speaks! If you're curious, StGS was 16,154, and I would have given them quintuple bonus points if he'd actually said the episode title. "I can see that," replies an annoyed Samson. Heh. If you needed more proof that this is a bizarro Six Feet Under, I offer Exhibit B: stupid guys named Gabe. You know, I wondered a bit about why it was this that finally moved Gabriel to speak, but then I realized that if the guy has ever actually had sex in his life, it almost definitely would have been with Dora Mae. I can totally picture them as a couple. In fact, I sometimes like to imagine them lying in bed together late at night, with her babbling incessantly about all the latest dance crazes, and Gabe trying to determine the mass of her mismatched breasts by bench-pressing her over and over. And then she starts sucking his toes, and my imagination goes to a really nasty place. In any event, 5150, 227, and Roustie π are at lost for what the posse should do , but Pa Pimperson puts an end to their bickering when he solemnly announces that all he wants to do is bury his little girl. Roustie π continues to demand vengeance, but Pa starts trudging slowly back to Carnieland, and drops his pistol at Samson's feet as he passes. Slowly, everyone begins to follow him back home.
St. Chin's of the Virgin Plotline Even Slower Than Ben's. Iris enters to find her brother missing, and his cassock and Bible left behind. She runs back home, and quickly confirms that he's not there either. Incest shippers no doubt took note of the fact that she didn't even bother to knock before entering his room. Justin himself, meanwhile, is on the road somewhere, as he steps out of a bus at the edges of an orange grove. He walks along the side of the road, and the creepiest thing about this shot by far is the fact that the sky is blue. If nothing else, Carnivàle definitely has the best use of color I've ever seen on TV. And since I'll be getting my fancy new 57" Sony HDTV any day now, I'm actually looking forward to doing all the color-calibration chores just so I can enjoy this show. Thanks, Dan Knauf!
Beneath a significantly more gray and washed-out sky, Ben is busy digging Dora Mae's grave while Gabe, Jonesy, and The Pythagorean Roustie sit around and watch. A lot of people in the forums have speculated about why Ben was the one doing all the work, but it just looks to me like they were taking turns and it's his time to be shoveling. "Is that deep enough?" he asks. No one answers, but I know I can't be the only one who yelled at my TV, "Hell, no! And don't stop 'til she's six feet under!"
Carnieland. Samson strolls along between the tents, and Jonesy finally walks over to him to report that Dora's grave is ready. Then he drops his big bombshell: He's leaving the carnival to join the Daily Brothers. Samson takes this news with a sad shake of his head, but when Jonesy walks away, he turns and calls him back. "There's men you trust," Samson says, "and men you don't. I trusted you, even when no one else did. I'd like to think it's always gone both ways." Translation: "I hired your sorry, drunken, limpy ass when no one else would, so the least you could do is back me up when I tell stories about the imaginary boss." But in a very nice way, of course.
Fade to later, with Dora Mae's funeral procession in full swing. Her pallbearers are Jonesy, Gayko, Gabriel, and Avogadro's Roustie. They carry the body on a stretcher through the midway and out beneath the big "Carnivàle" sign while the official Old West-Style Funeral Fiddle plays its mournful tune. Then they make their way up the hillside, with the entire cast following in their wake. Pa Pimp and Libby are holding onto each other for dear life, and even Roustie π looks suitably chastened.
Now this shot definitely wins back the quintuple bonus points I didn't give them for Gabe speaking, because it somehow manages to be a simultaneous homage to both Twin Peaks and Six Feet Under. As everyone stands beneath the giant funeral tree, Dora Mae's body is slowly lowered into the grave, looking for all the world like a slightly rounder Laura Palmer, albeit one wrapped in silk rather than plastic, and with the word "harlot" carved into her forehead. But other than that, they were identical.
Once the body is in the ground, Adrienne steps forward to deliver the eulogy. "I knew this girl," she announces. "Her name was Dora Mae [Cooch]. She was like kin to me, and everyone standing here. You know her, Lord. You know she had a hard life. Some of what she done You may not approve of. Some of what she done You may call sin. But she was a good girl, Lord, and we loved her. And we want You to welcome her into Your arms, and we know You will." This is all accompanied by shots of the various carnies standing around the grave. Gabriel is wearing his finest strongman cape, and everyone else is dressed in their Sunday finest. Except for Lila, that is, who's still wearing her Saturday-night-special see-through bustier. She's also sobbing her bearded little heart out. Aww. In the silence that follows the eulogy, Libby steps forward to look down at her sister. "Dora Mae," she whispers, "you was a real good dancer." Then she runs off (again, just like Meadow), and Pa Pimperson is forced to go after her, despite his wife's angry attempts to get him to stay behind.
As The Twins begin to hum a mournful dirge, Adrienne steps forward and drops her scarf into the grave. She's followed by Gabe, who tenderly places a well-worn book in there as well. Gayko comes , and brings whatever his gift is up to his lips for a kiss before he leaves it. Unfortunately, he had it palmed pretty well early in the shot, so it totally ends up looking like he just spit in his hand and dropped it in the grave. Oops. 1492 tosses in a sheaf of papers, and Sofie leaves behind her townie-trolling dress. Remember that one in a few minutes, okay? Jonesy gives a baseball that looks like a potato, and a woman we've never seen before throws in a tambourine. Once almost everyone else is gone, Samson crouches down and drops in a trading card of himself, which is labeled "Samson The Magnificent," and features a picture of our boy, shirtless and bending an iron bar. Hmm. I don't see anyone gushing over HIS abs in the forums. What's up with that? Then he reaches into his coat, and pulls out a pocket watch. "This is from Management," he explains. "He got it in the old country. He said it'll never need winding." Oy. I've harped on Management's idiocy in the past, but this is really pushing it. There's no way he wouldn't know Dora Mae's fate, and that's definitely a pretty nasty gift to give someone who's trapped in Hell for all eternity.
And speaking of "trapped," Sofie is waiting for Jonesy just past the edge of the funeral. "Walk me back?" she asks, putting her arm in his. She clings to him as they head back down the hill, complaining about how she's in a "prison" because she can't leave Mommatose, but doesn't want to stay with the Carnival anymore. The subtext of this scene is that she's totally hitting on him, which is presumably because she now knows for sure that she's pregnant, and wants a suitable father for her child. Jonesy brings them to a halt, and is just about to reveal that he plans on leaving himself when he looks up and spots Barkeeper Willie out on the horizon. Continuity Note: Willie is NOT carrying a bag in this shot.
Jonesy yells for Samson, screaming that "there's still one man left in Babylon." And when Barkeeper Willie reaches the top of the ridge (now with his non-bindle bag in hand), he's greeted by the entire roustie posse, who have caught up with him by going back to get their trucks. Willie doesn't look all that surprised by this turn of events.
A-ha! At long last we see this mysterious wagon that men are supposed to stand tall before. Honestly? It doesn't look like much. In fact, I think Samson could stand taller than that thing. It must be pretty heavy, though, because it takes the collective efforts of Jonesy, Gabriel, and 5150 just to get it moving. Ben watches all the other carnies heading for the big top, but makes no move to join them. He's then accosted by Lodz, who sniffs the air a few times and then announces, "I know you're here, boy. That scent of body odor, coal dust, and utter boredom is unmistakable." He then asks if what he's hearing is the sound of "a decrepit wagon that looks as if Noah had it on the ark?" When he hears that it is, he ominously announces that Ben is in luck, because he's "about to participate in an obscure, but fascinating ritual known as 'carnival justice.' It's not to be missed." So let's get right on with it, shall we?
Under the big top. The entire cast has gathered in a circle, with Barkeeper Willie looking anxious at the center. Samson orders 227 to close the tent flap, which he does, but then Ben opens it again to sneak inside. Back in the circle, Samson begins interrogating Willie, establishing his name, and the fact that he "resides" in Babylon (mainly because Willie refuses to admit that he "lives" in Babylon). Samson also determines that Willie is aware of Dora Mae's murder, which he agrees that he is. "So you can imagine that we wanted justice," declares Samson. "But when we rolled into town today, why, there wasn't a soul there." This causes Willie to chortle a bit, and Samson angrily asks if he's being funny. Willie thinks for a moment, and then looks chastened as he replies, "I guess not." Heh. Now that was funny. In context, at least. "But the truth is," Willie continues, "there are a lot of souls in Babylon. A lot of them."
Ma Cooch is beginning to get a wee bit impatient with the pace of this trial (which leads one to wonder if Pamela Mackey is a descendant of the Cooch clan), and demands that Samson "get on with it." Samson complies, ordering Gabriel and Jonesy to bring in the wagon. They do, and proceed to drag it in a circle around Barkeeper Willie. In the back, Ben leans over to Lodz to ask what the hell is going on. "The wagon is circled three times around the accused," Lodz explains. "I doubt anyone here even remembers [why]. But that's the way it's always been done." You kids in the forums can have all the Holy Trinity speculation you want, because it's my personal theory that it has something to do with the way dogs turn around three times before they lie down. But that's just me.
With the wagon circling complete, Samson calls out for everyone to speak the name of the dead. "Dora Mae [Cooch]," responds the congregation. "One of ours is dead," preaches Samson. "And one of theirs is gonna answer for it. Pick a number, one through six." Willie is confused by this, and Samson is forced to repeat the instruction, with the added caveat that if Willie doesn't pick, the carnies will choose for him. "Six sounds good to me," shouts Ma Cooch. Willie considers that for a moment, then (rather wisely, in my opinion) chooses three.
Pa Pimperson hands his revolver to Samson, who makes a big show of loading a single bullet into the chamber. Ben is shocked that they're just going to kill the guy right there, but Adrienne assures him that Willie will have "more of a chance than Dora Mae did." "How do you know if he's even the one who did it?" asks Ben. "That's not the point," she replies. "There's times when we have to make our own justice. This is who we are, Ben. And if you want to get busy with me, you'd better learn to like it." Samson turns back to face Willie, and rather dramatically tells him that if he has anything to say, "Now would be the time." Willie removes his hat in order to better plead for mercy, and then tries to explain himself. "I see what you're doing," he says, "and I understand. I really do. Can't say I blame you none, either." Okay. So far so good. "But, uh, she's got a lot of snap in her garter, that one. She weren't no good girl." Oy. Willie, Willie, Willie. Not the smartest choice you could have made, my friend. Pa Pimp runs at the guy, and tries to kill him barehanded, but the carnies pull him away. "If one's taken," Willie shouts, "it's best it's her. You gotta understand, we ain't got no women here in Babylon. Be right nice to have someone to dance with every night." And judging from his tone, I don't really think he meant "dance" in the literal sense, if you know what I mean. "She'll be fine," he continues. "Well, maybe not fine, but I'll watch over her best I can." Heh. Again, that was funny in context.
The carnies start screaming for justice, including Pa Pimperson, who is utterly flabbergasted that Willie has essentially confessed to committing the crime at this point. Samson steps right up to Willie's kneeling form, and places the gun to his forehead. "Okay, okay," screams Willie. "But don't do it here. Not here. I die here, I stay here. Just like the rest of them. Just like everyone else since Scudder left." Dun dun DUH! Samson recoils at hearing Scudder's name, but Willie just keeps on begging to be taken over the hill before they kill him. He doesn't have a very sympathetic audience, however, and even Gayko is demanding that Samson "pull the trigger on the son of a bitch." Samson points the gun again, and this time he actually does pull trigger. Click. No bullet. Willie shakes a bit, and Samson re-cocks the pistol to aim again. "No whammies, no whammies, no whammies," whimpers Willie, as Samson pulls the trigger a second time. Click. No bullet. The assembled carnies start looking anxious as Samson aims a third time. Click…ahh. Willie breathes a sigh of relief.
"Pull the trigger again!" shouts Roustie π, and soon everyone else joins in with a similar chorus. "That ain't the way!" yells Samson. "That ain't the way we do this. We got rules." Pa Pimp goes nuts and starts yelling at Samson, but Ma shuts him up. Then she turns to face the boss, and looks all sorts of mean. "I buried three children before today," she announces. "Influenza took two, and one was stillborn. But me and [Pa], we got through that because it was God's will. But last night…last night was not God's will. It was this man! And he is gonna pay for it. Now I would like my husband's gun back." She holds out her hand for it, but Samson just stands there. "The man picked his number," calls a voice from the back. It's Jonesy, and he steps forward into the circle to back his boss. "That's the end of it. [Ma], [Pa], Libby, I'm sorry. But we ain't doing this. The man picked his number. We got a code here. We break the code, we got nothing left." He orders Pythagoras and π (premiering fall on the Math Channel!) to bring Willie back to town, "safe and sound." "Not a hair from his head," he adds, "or you answer to me." Then he orders everyone to start packing up, because "Management wants us on the road by dawn." Samson manages to look satisfied by this without coming off as smug, and loudly repeats Jonesy's order to start moving. Everyone files slowly out of the tent, until only Samson and the Cooch clan remain. Fade to black. This episode has about fifty-three false endings, by the way, and that was the first of them
We fade up in California, with a group of hobos sitting around a fire (yay hobos!), bemoaning the sorry state of their lives. One marginally less dirty hobo in particular seems to be listening to these sob stories a bit more intently than the others, and he soon turns to see Brother Justin, drinking straight from the bottle and trying to stay warm with nothing but his suit jacket. "What about you, friend?" he asks. "You got a story to tell around the campfire? You know, lost your job, lost your girlfriend…lost your dog?" Heh. "I lost my sister," replies Brother Justin. "It was the best sex I ever had in my life, and now she's gone." Oh, okay. Fine. He really just says, "I lost my God." But my way was totally better.
Cut to a radio show, where the Clean Hobo turns out to be one "Tommy Dolan," host of a show called "True Tales from the Road." Tommy relates the story of Brother Justin, in a typically overwrought media style. We cut around to see all sorts of different people listening to the broadcast, which culminates with Tommy asking, "Where are you, Brother Justin?" over and over again, as Justin trudges through the darkness along an empty dirt road. Fade to black on false ending number two.
Morning in Carnieland. Samson walks along a row of trucks, as rousties roust busily in the background. Jonesy informs him that everyone will be ready to leave in about twenty minutes, and Samson announces that he'll be back before then. He does not, however, tell Jonesy where he's going. That's probably because he's going back into Babylon, so that he can have a little chat with Barkeeper Willie. Samson strolls into the saloon, and orders a whiskey with a jaunty little nod. "I didn't expect to see you here," says Willie. Then he pours him a drink on the house, and admits that he's grateful to Samson for standing up to the other carnies the way he did. "I thought you might be," agrees Samson. "That's why I thought maybe you might do me one in return." Willie agrees, and Samson asks to hear everything he knows about Scudder. "Strange fellow, that one," begins Willie. Yeah. I'll say. "Came here to work the mines, but people knew right off there was something different about him." When Scudder killed Carl Buttridge (and "Buttridge" still makes me giggle, by the way), people were pretty pissed off about it. "They were gonna string Scudder up," he explains, "but he wasn't gonna have none of that, no sir. That's when it happened. Cave-in. Wiped out the whole company." For the record, he never explicitly states that Scudder caused the cave-in, but it is pretty clearly implied. "I saw it," continues Willie. "And then, the night, they came back. Every one of them. And they just keep coming back. Sounds crazy, don't it?" "Not that crazy," replies Samson. "I mean, you're talking to a guy who shares a trailer with a potentially nonexistent deity with a penchant for random disappearances and incredibly poor decision-making skills. I eat crazy for breakfast." And then he whips out the pistol and shoots Willie right in the face. No, really. Damn! You da man, Samson.
As he walks back to Carnieland, however, Samson is shocked and saddened to see the naked form of Dora Mae staring out from a window in town. She looks pale and, well, dead, and also somewhat horrified when a miner wraps his arm around her neck and pulls her back away from the window. I'm not going to touch the question of whether or not that miner was Willie with a ten-foot pole. "I Only Have Eyes for You" plays on the soundtrack as Samson looks like he's about to vomit, and I'm left sitting here fondly reminiscing about the days when my biggest problem was coming up with jokes about dead kittens. Oy. That's just about the worst fate I've ever seen a person condemned to in my recapping career, and that includes the guy on Oz who got his face burnt off by a steam pipe. Hell, Dora Mae made it look like Cyril ended up in Disneyland with those Care Bears after all. Farewell, Meatloaf's Daughter. Here's hoping you get a nice fluffy sitcom to work on .
Now if you ask me, that should have been the ending right there. But no, we've still got one more scene to go. It's a good one, however, so I don't really mind. Jonesy climbs into the cab of his truck, where Samson is already waiting, flask in hand. "We still heading south?" asks Jonesy. "Yep," replies Samson, as he hands over the booze. "Figured," sighs Jonesy. And with that, they pull out of Babylon, and we fade to black for the fourth and final time.
week: Adrienne takes Ben on a snake hunt. Who wants to bet she's disappointed with what they find?