Like a bridge over troubled water, Clancy Brown will lay thee down. Or something like that. We open with Brother Justin perched precariously on the edge of a bridge, glancing downward at the fast-moving river that winds through the gorge below. Before we can even get our bearings (and before those of us who are afraid of heights can grip the armrests a little tighter), we're suddenly jerked into a series of Predator-VisionTM flashbacks featuring selected creepy images from Justin's storyline to date. Back on the bridge, a rather bored-looking policeman tries to talk Justin down. "No matter how bad you think it is," he drawls, "there's nothing that's happened to you that hasn't happened to someone else." Justin flicks his eyes over towards the cop, and gives this rather trite sentiment the sneer of disdain it so rightly deserves. Then he executes a perfect swan dive, and tumbles into the roaring rapids below. Farewell, Brother Justin. Too bad the Russian judge only gave you a 6.5.
Carnieland. Ben and a handful of other rousties are busy setting up the carnival in front of a conspicuously CGI'd blue sky backdrop. While I amuse myself by trying to figure out exactly where the real shot ends and the matte painting begins, Adrienne Barbeau emerges from her trailer and heaves a weary sigh. Then she spots Ben, and heaves a sigh of an entirely different kind. She calls out to him, and asks if he'd like to join her for some "snake hunting" later that afternoon. Ben immediately drops the pipe he was carrying and agrees to go along without saying even a single word. Heh. Although I do wonder if he agreed because he wants Adrienne to hunt HIS snake, or just because he enjoyed the "snipe" hunt Jonesy sent him on with the baggage trailer and assumes that this will be more of the same. I mean, let's face it. The boy ain't too bright, so you never know what he might be thinking.
Elsewhere, Ma & Pa Cooch are silently eating breakfast. Silence. Silence. More silence. Awkward silence. Silence of the Lambs. Silence like a cancer grows. Finally, Ma Cooch breaks the ice by asking if there's anything she can do to cheer Pa up. I like to pretend that he was about to ask her to bust out the little red pig, but before he can actually respond, Libby comes strolling past the table sporting a brand new Like-A-Virgin-esque platinum blonde hairdo. This causes Ma Cooch to go apeshit, or possibly some other form of animal excrement, because she describes the color as "pure cow piss" and loudly insists that there can only be one blonde dancer in the show. Libby responds by pointing out that she sees Ma naked on stage every night, and knows damn well that there aren't ANY natural blondes in the show. Ew. Boy that family dynamic they've got going just keeps on getting creepier every week, doesn't it?
“ 'People go to Hollywood with nothing but a dream. Then they just get discovered, and become big stars.' And then their shows get cancelled, and they end up shaking their tits for scale on pay cable. But in an artsy, Emmy-appropriate sort of way, of course. ”
Ma Cooch storms off in a huff, and Libby sits down beside her father. Pa Pimp proceeds to hold his daughter close in a way that manages to be simultaneously touching in a "grieving father" sort of way, and also kind of creepy in an "it wouldn't surprise me if these two had been doing it since she was six" sort of way. I've noticed that Carnivàle certainly does enjoy walking that incest tightrope. Pa repeats Ma's question from earlier, wondering if there's anything he can do to cheer Libby up. She admits that she's been thinking about leaving the carnival, although when you consider that she already announced those same intentions right in front of him last week, that's really not much of a revelation. Pa allows that "Curly and Jasper" (a.k.a. π and Avogadro's Roustie) have already snuck off to parts unknown, and then suggests that they could do the same. His dream is to go "anywhere but Texas." Hers is to go to Hollywood. "It happens all the time out there," she tells him. "People go to Hollywood with nothing but a dream. Then they just get discovered, and become big stars." And then their shows get cancelled, and they end up shaking their tits for scale on pay cable. But in an artsy, Emmy-appropriate sort of way, of course. Dad agrees, and says she'd better start packing. Aw. Hugging. Hugging. More hugging. Huggy Bear. Awkward hugging. Really, really creepy, incestual hugging.
And speaking of creepy incestual hugging, here's Iris in her brother's bedroom. She hangs up a suit he left lying on the bed, but not before she stops to sniff it a few times. Oy. I think we can now safely add "suggestive sniffing" to "religious freaks in the desert" and "sex and free meat" on my TWoP recurring theme rsum. I can't tell you how happy I am about that. With suit safely stowed, Iris thinks for a moment, and then reaches under her brother's bed to pull out the case containing his whip. Ew. Ew ew ew ew ew. I once found a Playgirl in my sister's room, and I couldn't look at her for a month. And because you know there's no way we're getting out of this scene without a money shot, Iris kneels down beside the bed and actually sniffs the whip. That would have grossed me out too, but all I can think about now is "Smell the Glove" from Spinal Tap, so I think I'm okay on this one. I would, however, be remiss if I didn't at least mention mambotaxi's excellent "whippersniffer" nickname from the forums. Good one!
Iris's olfactory observation of the family flagellum is interrupted by the Coin-Puking Dirty Lady, who pokes her head into the bedroom to announce that Iris has a gentleman caller. At least CPD Lady has the good grace to act embarrassed by what she's just seen, although she will be using it to score one of the best lines of the night in another minute or two. Iris heads downstairs, where we learn that her guest is Tommy Dolan, the radio reporter from last week. Apparently Tommy lied and claimed he was a minister in order to gain access to the house, and this infuriates CPD Lady to no end. "Now you get out of this house," she yells, "before I take a horsewhip to your backside." Hee! Iris is temporarily mortified, but manages to get herself back under control enough to shoo CPD Lady out of the room. She asks Tommy why he's there, and he soon reveals that he was the last known person to see Justin alive. He also reveals that Justin was healthy but very, very drunk at the time. Iris rather foolishly insists that her brother doesn't drink, and then they're interrupted by the arrival of yet another bag of fan-mail. Oh, I have that exact same problem, let me tell you. In fact, this week's reader mailbag included an informative Italian translation from a Six Feet Underepisode I recapped eight months ago, yet another letter from an old high school friend I haven't spoken to in years, a slam on the OED, and several pieces of spam promising to teach me how to "Earn as much as a pr0n star!" And that's not even counting the one about Miss Alli's tongue.
Tommy takes an interest in the deluge of mail, and steps over to the table to read one of the letters aloud. The actual text is nowhere near as interesting to him as the $5 bill that's enclosed, and Iris explains that money has been pouring in from all over Southern California. Heh. I just realized that Darryl and Darryl from the Coin-Puking Dirty clan are the ones sorting the mail. I'm actually sort of surprised they can even read. Iris and Tommy move back to the living room, and Tommy sleazes that he could be very helpful in raising funds and securing permission to rebuild the church. "There's nothing more irritating to a politician than a reporter," he adds. And there's nothing more irritating to a producer than a recapper, I suppose. Iris asks what he plans on getting out of the deal, and he smarms something about getting a good story and boosting his ratings. Whatever. I still preferred Perry White on Smallville this week. After hearing this explanation, Iris observes that Tommy sounds like he needs to get himself to a church. "I'd be happy to go anywhere you'd care to take me, Miss Crowe," he replies. Ooh, suave. Iris doesn't seem interested, however. Which means that Tommy really should have spent more time reading our forum polls, because if he'd gone with "I've got two dollars," he'd totally have her in the bag by now. Much to the dismay of that guy who mailed in $5, I'm sure. Fade to black.
Fade up on Justin, lying unconscious in a bed of reeds alongside the river. You know, because he's just like Moses, leading his migrant people straight to the Promised Land. If, that is, Moses had a broken leg instead of a burnt tongue, and the Promised Land was a really creepy place where people fuck their sisters and get their necks broken telekinetically. He eventually wakes up, and struggles to drag himself out of the water. He also looks over and sees what appears to be two small monkeys hanging from a nearby tree. Yay! Monkeys make everything better. Except for Tarzan, apparently. We fade to later, with Justin's new, slightly higher perch on the embankment allowing him to see that the monkeys are actually a pair of small children. Boo! Children ruin everything. This recap would be done by now if it weren't for the damn trick-or-treaters. The kids watch him silently for a while, and then the slightly older girl moves to whisper in her younger brother's ear. Justin begs for help, and the kids slowly make their way over to him. "Why do you chase us?" asks the girl, in a heavy Russian accent. Clancy tries to explain that he's not chasing them, and tells them to go fetch their parents for help. The girl reveals that their mother is dead, and that their father is "an evil man." Justin finally stops to take a good luck at these kids, and realizes that the girl is a dead ringer for a young Abby Lockhart, and the boy has the biggest eyes this side of a tentacle-themed pornographic anime. "My, what big eyes you have," observes Justin. "The better to snap your neck with," replies the boy. Oh, okay. Not really. Instead the kids just walk away without saying another word. Justin cries for them to come back, and when they don't, he just presses his face into the earth like he's digging for truffles.