Before we begin, there are a few things you should know about this recap: It was written in its entirety somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico, on a small, godforsaken island which is apparently best known for its foreboding skull-like topography and vast native population of genetically-engineered mutant human-animal hybrids. Although I do have to admit it was nice to see my whole family again like that. Additionally, significant portions of the text were subsequently edited and annotated by the highly inquisitive seven-year-old seated in the row in front of me on the flight home. Staci definitely disapproved of Sofie and Libby's lesbian scene, although I did catch her casting the occasional meaningful glance at her younger brother during that final Justin and Iris bit. Best not to dwell on that too much. It's also worth noting that this particular island just recently saw the introduction of such niceties as indoor plumbing, universal women's suffrage, and some newfangled gizmo the kids are all calling an "infernal combustion engine," so it goes without saying that TiVos and 57-inch big-screen Sonys are few and far between in this shithole. In other words, I'm writing this entire recap on a ten-year-old 486 laptop I stole from work, using nothing more than whatever notes I managed to hastily scribble before heading out to the airport. So if it's lacking in the usual level of descriptive (yet ultimately pointless) detail I'm usually so pleased to provide, you'll just have to forgive me. With that said: Razorblades, lesbians, Mexicans, snakes, worms, haircuts, semi-naked children, adultery, wet t-shirt contests, incest, inappropriate confessions, huckey duck, hammer suck, fiddler's bitch, Ruthie is dead, the end. See you week!
Oh, and I also just spotted Doug E. Doug getting a shoeshine in the USAir terminal. Best not to dwell on that one for too long, either.
We fade up on Brother Justin, giving communion in Father's Walton's church. And just out of curiosity, is "giving" really the proper sacramental verb here? No one seems to know, not even my normally reliable Catholic co-workers. Give me an email if you know. The kicker to this otherwise pastoral scene is that young Ben Hawkins is also in line with all the other parishioners. Hmm. Does this mean that Ben is actually a long-lost cousin of the Coin-Puking Dirty clan, home for a joyous holiday meal of mudbugs, wild turkey, smelts, and dirt pie? Not to mention the razorblade communion wafer appetizer, which is what Brother Justin has elected to distribute today in lieu of the usual Saltines or Wonder Bread or whatever you're supposed to be using for this sort of ceremony. Ouch. And also ew. And while we're at it, how come Christians always think it's so funny that we Jews do wacky stuff like eat nothing but Matzoh for a full week each year, but think nothing at all of satiating their mid-morning munchies with "the Body of Christ" each and every Sunday? Oy vey. When it comes to disturbing rituals, nobody's got nothing on the Catholics. Justin's congregation, however, doesn't seem to have any problems with the razorblades, which means that a) this is obviously a dream sequence, and b) you don't ever want to go trick-or-treating in Mintern. The various razor/tongue close-ups really sell the "ew" factor, but it's the shot of the woman in the third row chewing happily with blood trickling down her face that cracks me up every time. As Ben finally makes it up to the front of the line, the congregation chants "The Body of Christ" over and over again. "No, it ain't," snarls Ben, as he grabs Justin's arm to hold off the proffered razorblade. Our two main characters lock arms, and stare deep into each other's eyes, and then things suddenly get very Over the Top (in just about every sense of the phrase), what with the grunting, and the arm-wrestling, and the swelling music, and the glacier-sized cakes of dirt getting shaken off Ben's quivering biceps. Before either of them can attempt the patented Sly Stallone wrist-bend maneuver, however, the scene ends, and Ben jerks awake, in a bed this time as opposed to his usual spot under the truck. The dirty girls among you may be interested to know that there's no sign of Adrienne anywhere at this point.
Over in Management's trailer, we get to catch the tail end of yet another conversation between Lodz and the boss. Once again, all the good parts apparently occurred off-camera, because all we get to hear Lodz say is, "We both know it's the only way to reach the boy." Before learning what that way might be (although I personally like to imagine it has something to do with everyone ganging up to pummel him with bars of soap like they did in Full Metal Jacket), Samson barges in, looking peeved and explaining that the local sheriff has arrived to collect his piece of the gate. Lodz chortles because such mundane concerns are beneath him, Samson looks pissed because Management has dumped him for a boy with better hair, and I just sit there enjoying the beautiful exterior shots that led into and out of this scene. We had some truly excellent cinematography this week.
Back to Ben, who is now getting dressed in Adrienne's trailer. Aww. It looks like she even washed his shirt after the deflowering. Now that's full service. Or the only way she could stand to be in the same room with him. Eventually, Ms. Barbeau returns home to inform Ben that he slept through the entire day, and it's now almost dark again. Ahh, blessed tryptophan, that sweet, sweet narcotic. Like any good midwestern farmboy, Ben knows an ugly coyote when he sees one, so he quickly blurts out that the whole thing was a mistake, and that he never should have been there in the first place. Perhaps realizing that she's dealing with a boy whose emotional IQ can only be expressed through the use of a lengthy, non-repeating decimal, Adrienne quickly damage-controls that "the thing just happened," and that it's nothing to be ashamed of. "It's a sin," snots Ben, which is technically true (depending on your personal religious beliefs, of course) but still not the sort thing you probably want to be preaching about the morning after losing your presumptive virginity to a seventies pin-up queen. "Nobody tells me what to do in my bed," replies a now feisty Adrienne, "including the Lord." Um, okay. At least now we know who got to be on top. She tries to grab his arm to keep him from leaving, but Ben is back in no-touching mode. "I just washed that arm," he gasps. "You know damn well that I need to get a fine base of dirt powder down before I start adding skin oils! How else am I going to top Zonker at the Muddy Waters Memorial International Dirt Napping competition this year?" He storms out of the trailer just in time to encounter Gabe, who seems to be returning home after a long night of…I don't know. Being stupid, I guess. And does this mean Adrienne puts out like a little red snake or something? Because that would be way cooler than the pig. And significantly more symbolic. When Gabe heads inside, his mother is predictably snappish. She orders him to take some dresses over to Lila for mending (which will be important later), and then she even cries a little bit once he leaves. Aww. Don't cry, Adrienne. You're better off without him. Trust me. Also, you'll probably want to wash your sheets. Or maybe even burn them.
Elsewhere in Carnieland, Sofie and Libby are laughing and getting drunk on the hood of a truck near Sofie's trailer. This scene is significantly more fun if you skip the visuals and just go straight to the dialogue: "Hey, how'd that get in there?" giggles Sofie. "That's supposed to be there," purrs Libby. "Mexicans say that if you swallow that little fella, it gives you magical powers." Lest anyone think that Libby and I make a habit of using the same pick-up lines, it should probably be noted that they're talking about the worm at the bottom of a bottle of Mezcal, and not whatever your dirty, jiggly little minds might have been thinking. But don't worry. That part comes later. "Of course, you've already got magical powers," adds Libby, which is again unfortunately not in reference to anything sexual. Sofie transfers all credit for the magic to her mother, but Libby isn't convinced by her modesty. Sofie insists that she's never seen Mommatose be wrong (which should add significant fuel to the whole "Sofie is pregnant" fire), but Libby reminds her that Mommatose predicted that they would all successfully escape from the carnival a few episodes back. Which she totally didn't, but I don't have internet access to link that for you right now. In any event, the girls now take a moment to stare longingly at each other. Staring, staring, more staring, Stare Bears, stare-way to heaven, twinkle twinkle little stare, still more staring, and then -- finally -- more staring.
Eventually, Libby tries another tack: "You know who you remind me of?" she flirts. "Katharine Hepburn." Oy. Not exactly subtle, is she? And while we're busy mocking that line, where the hell does Libby find time to see all these different movies, anyway? First Intolerance, and now Morning Glory? Is Ebert's grandfather one of her regular johns? Libby expands on the whole Katherine Hepburn gambit by adding that "she's so strong, and I don't wanna say strange-looking, but…" That's okay, Libby, I'll say it. "Exotic?" suggests Sofie, "Hypnotic?" Neurotic? Psychotic? Despotic? Necrotic? The girls' fingers slowly entwine around the Mezcal bottle at this point, and then they both lean in for a kiss. Before the actual lip-lock can be achieved, however, Sofie flashes into a highly erotic, girl-on-girl dream sequence that's pretty racy, even by HBO's standards. I'm thinking it's the When Suzy Met Sally Meg Ryan orgasm-moaning on the soundtrack that does it. Kissing, kissing, licking, groaning, nipple, nipple, more licking, more groaning, rewinding, rewatching, rewinding, rewatching, rewinding, rewatching, flick…ahh. The vision turns ugly, however, when the moaning on the soundtrack morphs into sobbing, and Sofie suddenly raises her hand to see blood gushing from an open wound on her palm. Now most people seem to think this is a stigmata reference of some sort, but I personally just think it's Mommatose's own little way of telling Sofie that hair will grow on her palms if she keeps doing that sort of thing. Ever the consummate concerned comatose parent, that one. Sofie takes a deep breath to try and recover from the vision, but when she glances down at the Mezcal she sees the worm inside jerking around and thrashing its tail. It's a cute effect, but maybe a just little too subtle. I didn't even notice it the first two times through. Which probably explains why the Fetus in a Jar gets his own thread in the forums, and poor Wormy Gonzales here gets bubkes. You should not, incidentally, take that as permission to start an "Ask Wormy" thread. Sofie jumps up from where she's been sitting and runs back to her trailer, feigning (or possibly actually experiencing) nausea as she goes. And once again, poor, sweet, lonely Libby is left all alone and unsatisfied. Call me, Libby! I can give you magical powers!
Over in whatever hick border town the carnies are camped out by this week, a group of sullen-looking mariachis have gathered to perform outside the local saloon. Ben, meanwhile, is inside said saloon, doing shots and just generally stinking up the joint. He chats a bit with the bartender, who provides him with the standard, stupid-gringo-appropriate, AAA-approved explanation of all the local Dia de la Muerte customs. After pouring Ben another shot, the bartender raises his glass in a toast to La Muerte. "Does she scare you?" he asks. "I seen people die," answers Ben. "They're always choking and gagging every time I come near. Don't much know why, though." Uh, stupid question, I know, but where the hell is Ben getting the money to afford all those drinks? And how is it that it's only been two hours and his shirt is already filthy again?
Cut to later, as Ben walks outside. He immediately runs into a little boy who has an exact replica of Creepy Ugly Naked Tattooed Guy's tree tattoos painted onto his chest and back. Needless to say, I've already decided to call this kid the "Tattoo-Wearing Adorable Tyke." Because Ben is dumber than a chicken chimichanga, he doesn't even manage to say a single word to the kid, and just watches in shock as the Tattoo-Wearing Adorable Tyke takes off running. We also soon see that a gang of turban-wearing, machete-wielding townspeople is chasing the kid down the street, just like in Ben's dreams. Now put yourself in Ben's place for a moment, and think about what you might do in a similar situation. And then sit back and marvel at what Ben chooses to do instead. Does he chase after them? No. Does he go back inside and ask the bartender what all this might mean? Nope. Does even a single thought make its way across the mud-encrusted neurons of his severely underdeveloped occipital lobe? Of course not. He's Ben. Which means that what he actually does is just stand there drooling and muttering that he's an excellent driver until a horde of local kids surround him and start tugging at his clothes. Then he breaks into a passable rendition of "Beat It," and invites the youngest of them back to his trailer. No, not really. He does tell the kids to beat it, however, even if they don't seem to understand a word that he's saying. Finally, an elderly woman comes over and explains that the kids are crying for Ben's "loss," which makes even less sense than my Michael Jackson explanation. She shoos the kids away, and then pulls a slice of bread out of her basket and offers it to Ben. "Pan de los muertos," she explains. "Even the dead must eat." Ben doesn't know what any of those words mean (including, "dead," "eat," and "the"), so he just stares at her. "Flores!" she suddenly shouts. "Flores para los muertos! LOS MUERTOS!" Heh. And as dumb as Randy Quaid was in that movie, he's still ten times the genius Ben will ever be. The old woman finally leaves to make her way back to the alleys surrounding JFK airport, and Ben turns to see a large float coming down the street, with the Tattoo-Wearing Adorable Tyke seated on a throne in the center.
Ben eventually manages to tear his eyes away from the float, which is when he notices a nearby church adorned with a brightly lit, Templar-esque cross. He heads inside, and I'm pretty sure it's the exact same church that was used in Vampires, Shanghai Noon, and pretty much every other movie, TV show, commercial, home video, or Paris Hilton sex tape that features a southwestern-looking church. He wanders the aisles for a moment, perhaps scanning the walls for informative murals or razorblade dispensers, and then notices a man emerging from a nearby confessional. He heads inside, and sits down. Sharp-eyed viewers will immediately recognize that the "priest" is actually Hack Scudder, but Ben can't even spell "Hack," much less recognize his own father through a paper-thin wicker divider, so the secret remains safe for the moment. Scudder's first words? "Kneel, my son." Yeah. This show scares me sometimes. Ben complies, and Scudder continues the ritual by asking how long it's been since his last confession. "I never done this before," answers Ben, which is a phrase he's been getting a lot of use out of in these past two episodes. Scudder instructs him to confess his sins, so that they may be forgiven. "By you?" asks Ben (which will factor into my own personal bizarre Carnivàle conspiracy theory in a moment). "In the eyes of the Lord," comes the answer. "He can't make it right," sighs Ben. "I killed a man." "Yes," replies Scudder without even a hint of surprise, which would have been more than enough to tip off anyone who could actually be considered sentient that something here just ain't right. Ben, however, is Ben, so he just continues with a litany of sins: "I done impure things with a woman I wasn't married to. I lied. I stole. I stunk…" This is followed by a long pause. "I let her die," Ben finally admits. "Your mother chose to die," says Scudder, and it's this that finally causes Ben to get curious. But instead of saying anything, or asking a question, or even peering more closely through the screen separating them, Ben decides to go all the way out of his booth and open the door to the other side. When he does, however, Scudder is obviously already long gone. Ben just stands there (sing it with me now), looking stupid. Fade to black.
My bizarre Carnivàle conspiracy theory, by the way, is that it was really Scudder who wanted Adrienne Barbeau dead. We know they slept together back in the day, and Ben pretty much just admitted that he got his own snake charmed, so Scudder (who is apparently somewhat more powerful than Management) manipulated things so that she would be punished. It's probably totally wrong, but so is everything else in the speculation thread, so I thought I'd just jot it down here for posterity. Don't think I won't be gloating week if it turns out to be right, though.
California. Father Walton is at the Crowe house, chatting with Iris. And right now I want everyone who emailed me to say that his nickname can't be Father Walton because he's a Methodist and not a Catholic to go back and watch that razorblade communion scene again. And then go outside for a while. It's nice. You'll like it. Or so I've heard. At any rate, Father Walton is busy confiding in Iris about the bloody cross he saw on Justin's forehead last week. Iris obviously insists that all this must be a mistake, and variously offers up tiredness and "the light" as possible explanations for the vision. Father Walton, however, suggests that Justin might have been possessed. He cites a chapter or two from the Bible, and then mentions the possibility of an exorcism. Iris laughs, calling that idea "insane" and "Papist hocus-pocus." Of course, if there was ever a woman who'd be likely to end up sucking cocks in hell, it's Iris. Brother Justin chooses this opportune moment to come home, and Father Walton rapidly tries to make himself scarce. He does stop to whisper to Iris that he'd like to keep their conversation on the down low, but he's so obvious about it that there's no way Justin wouldn't know something was going on. Even if he wasn't a psychotic telepath. Iris says goodbye, and politely shuffles Father Walton out the door while Justin looks on like a proud little brother. Or like a proud father. Or even a proud Father, for that matter. Or maybe it's more like a proud lover. Yeah. Things are definitely wee bit fucked up in this family.
Morning in Carnieland. Over at the cool freaks' table, Lila, Jonesy, Gayko, La Coocharaca, and the rest of the Cooch clan are all sitting around eating breakfast. Well, except for Pa Pimperson, that is, because he's gotten up to fetch himself another cup of coffee. Lila asks him to grab her some sugar while he's up, which seems like a fairly reasonable request, but Pa refuses, presumably because he's grumpy in the mornings, and also because he thinks it would be better if Jonesy did it for him. "I'd be nice to me if I was you," warns Lila. "Yeah, well, he ain't you," mugs Gayko, in his contractually obligated single snarky line of the week. "Although it's hard to tell on days he forgets to shave." Heh. Down at the other end of the table, La Coocharaca asks if "the lady con la barba" is the Queen of the carnival. Libby explains that she only thinks she is, but Lila points out that things have changed now that Samson is sleeping in a truck. Jonesy rouses himself from his pre-coffee stupor long enough to defend Samson, and even Pa Pimp agrees that there's not a chance in hell of Lodz taking over the carnival. "The blind leading the blind," quips Gayko, who's obviously decided to make up for all those episodes he's missed lately. "I don't care where anyone sleeps," adds Ma Cooch. Yeah. We've noticed. "I work for Samson," she finishes. Lila laughs, and haughtily flips open her fan. "The king is dead," she announces. "Long live the king." Okay, I didn't say anything earlier after the "papist" line, but someone on the Carnivàle staff has definitely been reading Quicksilver recently. Or The Da Vinci Code. Or maybe just The Wizard of Id. Samson wanders over at this point, just in time to bust Lila for shit-talking. "Everyone having a nice little chat?" he inquires. "Getting all the gossip straightened out? Let's quit lollygagging around and finish it up. We got work." Hee! "Lollygagging." But what about his catchphrase? Is there no dust to shake? I mean, without any obvious product-placement opportunities on this show, they're definitely going to need all the easy merchandising they can get. Perhaps a Dustbuster marketing tie in? Or maybe they could fill sno-globes with dirt and put a tiny little Nick Stahl action figure in there. What? I'd buy one.
Sofie's trailer. She enters, carrying a giant pillow, and gives her mother a frighteningly creepy Norman Bates stare before sitting down for a nice little chat.
Sofie: Good morning, mother.
Mommatose: Good morning, my dear.
Sofie: You thought that was pretty funny last night, didn't you?
Mommatose: Well, I don't know about "funny." I was kinda turned on, though. I mean, we all go a little lesbian sometimes, right?
Sofie: You know what I'm talking about. Don't bother denying it.
Mommatose: Oh, you're the one in denial, my dear. How's the weather in that closet, anyway?
Sofie: Making the worm move? That was a nice touch.
Mommatose: Aw, thanks. I thought so, too. I'd also like to add that it was the sight of an obvious phallic symbol jiggling that made you almost want to vomit. Are you really too stupid to figure out what that means?
Sofie: I've been thinking you could use a haircut. It's 1934 and long hair just isn't in style anymore. We've gotta bring you up to the times.
Mommatose: Oh, come on! Short hair? Phallus phobia? Isn't any of this adding up for you?
Sofie finally puts that giant pillow behind Mommatose's head, thus answering the "Will she smother her or not?" question. Instead, she pulls out a pair of scissors and starts snipping away.
Sofie: So tell me more about this so-called "rape." Because [snip] I've been wondering [snip] about it, and it just [snip] ain't adding up.
Mommatose: You don't really expect me to make a rape joke here, do you? Because that kind of thing is really only funny on Oz.
Sofie: It was rape, wasn't it [snip]? You said it was. But then, we only have your side of the story.
Mommatose: Well, there's my side of the story and then there's also THE GIANT LIFE-LIKE FLASHBACK! Or were you not paying attention? Sometimes I wonder about you, dear. I mean, it's not like I think you're stupid or anything, but…
Sofie: But you do, mother. You do hate me.
Mommatose: Oh, for God's sake! I don't hate you. How many times I have I told you? I'd much rather you brought home a nice gypsy girl than a non-gypsy boy. I mean, really.
Sofie: But that's okay. Because I love you.
And with that, Sofie gives her mother a quick kiss, and then holds up a mirror so she can see her new butch haircut. Mommatose doesn't exactly look happy, however, by which I mean that she looks exactly like she always does.
Over in the Cooch tent, La Coocharaca is auditioning for Ma. Unfortunately, the only dance move she seems to know is that flapper-style knee-waving thing. "I guess some people would call that dancing," snarks Ma. "Unfortunately, I ain't the Great Gatsby, so you're shit out of luck." She continues in a similar vein, enumerating all the many ways in which La Coocharaca sucks (although she does omit the most obvious way, which is probably how La Cooch got the job in the first place). "I don't know what [Pa Pimp] was thinking," she concludes. Oh, but I do. Ma leaves the tent, and Libby emerges from behind the curtain. "My mother can be a real bitch," she offers. "Si, una cucha gorda," answers La Coocharaca. Libby offers to help out and teach her a few steps, which she does immediately. What's sad about this is that Jessica Alba is so hot that it actually sort of frightens me a little, and yet this one little scene will still be ten times better than Glitter II: Electric Honeyloo. Sigh.
Cut to Ma Cooch, carrying her laundry down the midway. I guess she was so frustrated with La Coocharaca's performance that she decided to do a load of whites to take her mind off things. Either that or it was just a really weird edit. Jonesy approaches from the other direction, and quickly offers to carry the basket for her. As the laundry changes hands, they both take a moment to touch fingers and smile at each other. Oy. How on Earth does the entire carnival not know about this? As Jonesy carries the basket away, Ma and a significant portion of the viewing audience take the opportunity to stare at his ass. Sadly (or perhaps fortunately), there doesn't appear to be any rectal jiggling in this scene. "He's something, ain't he," observes Sofie, as she suddenly appears by Ma's side. "He sure is," gushes a nearby Limpie. Ma, however, just silently enjoys the anvillicious irony of it all. Incidentally, you couldn't really tell in that last scene, but Sofie's shirt is bright red with what appears to be a pattern of Templar crosses where the buttons should be. That could just be a coincidence, but when you realize that this show probably employs a costuming staff of at least a dozen people just to smear dirt on Ben's overalls, I highly doubt they'd let something like that just slip by. In any event, Sofie tells Ma that it took her a long time to realize how great Jonesy really is (she's never actually seen the jiggle, you know), but Ma (and Sofie's unborn fetus) finally managed to convince her. Ma tries desperately to escape from this conversation before it turns ugly, but like always, Sofie just doesn't know when to shut up. "The thing is," she explains, "now that I'm ready, he isn't." This makes Ma a bit suspicious that Sofie might know about the affair, but Sofie just goes on to blithely recap her encounter with Jonesy from last week. Yeah. Why don't you leave that to the professionals, Sofie, and just go and puke or sleep with a townie or menace your mother some more, okay? I could be eating leftover turkey right now, but I'm not, and I really don't appreciate you trying to horn in on my territory. And that goes for Libby as well, by the way. Sofie also reveals that Jonesy suggested they take things slow, which is a plan that meets with Ma's wholehearted approval. Ma is all about taking it slow. Unless there's a shower or a lickable kneecap or a bucket of water around, that is. She continues trying to subtly lead Sofie away from Jonesy, even suggesting that there might be another "fella" out there who'd be a better choice. "Or you could even pick my daughter," she adds. "I wouldn't mind, you know. Plus it would make that Aaron guy totally jealous, and he's been getting on my nerves lately." None of this manages to dissuade Sofie, however, as she confesses that Jonesy already hurt her once, and she's not sure if she can take that again. "You've been around, right?" she asks Ma. Jeez. Very suave, Sofie. Why not just ask if she's ever fucked a turnip? "Do you think I can trust him?" she finishes. Ma thinks for a long moment before answering. "Yeah," she says sadly. "You can."
"Well, you said I need to trust people," says Ben. "Okay, then. I'm trusting you." Heh. It's not quite up to the standards of everyone's favorite "Samson says shit" edit, but that was still pretty funny. Ben is talking to Samson just outside the carnival's front gate, and finally beginning to open up about all the weird stuff that's been happening lately. He tells Samson that he's been seeing Scudder everywhere, including in Babylon and the church from last night. He wants Samson to explain everything, to which Samson replies, "I don't know why you see the things you do. I wish I did." Hee! Even when Ben begs, people still never tell him anything. It's no wonder he's so stupid. I have seen some people speculating that Samson really does know, but just isn't saying anything because he's afraid that Lodz, Lila, or Management might be listening in. Personally, I think he really doesn't know anything. Samson is a good guy, and a way better manager than Management, but he does seem to be out of the supernatural loop, so to speak. Ben asks for more details on the "old country" incident Samson referred to last week, and all Samson can add is that it had something to do with Lodz. Which Ben already knew. "That's it?" asks an incredulous Ben. "That's all you got to tell me?" Samson further reveals that it wasn't an accident that they picked Ben up, because Management said he was expected. Except Samson already told the boy the exact same thing last week. Oops. "Expected?" asks Ben. "I don't know what the hell that means." Aww. Are three syllables too many for you there, Ben? Just break it down, and use your big-boy words. "Watch yourself," warns Samson. "Something's building, kid. I can feel it. When it breaks…well, the season will probably be over." Samson leaves, and Ben just stands there, looking stupid.
Lodz's trailer. He and Lila are in there together, and he's sitting silently while she mends Adrienne's dresses and bitches about all the changes she's going to make once she's Queen of the Carnival. The first thing she's going to do is get her own tent and move it up front, and then she's going to have "Possum" bring their meals to the trailer so they don't have to eat with the "riff-raff." Yeah. I don't know. With a cook named "Possum," it seems like they should probably be more worried about actually eating the riff-raff. Also, "riff-raff" is just fun to say. Lodz, however, has wisely chosen not to listen to a word she's saying, and I have to say that I wish I could do the same. I like Lila better when she's his equal partner, and not a whiny bitch for him to beat on. Lodz finally announces that they'll be heading into town. "Business or pleasure?" asks Lila. "Pleasure for you," he answers. "Business for me." Hmm. Does this mean he's pimping her out now? Because I've got two dollars if he is.
The scene opens with a very cool shot of Random Rousties #32 and #750 walking along the beams of the Ferris wheel, replacing all the burnt-out light bulbs. From there we pan down to Jonesy, who is working on the engine while Sofie stands nearby, pestering him. He tells her that he now thinks they should just forget about the whole idea, but Sofie wants to stick with the "slow" plan. "Jesus, Sofie," he gripes. "I never know whether you're coming or going." "Well, that seems odd," she replies. "That vision I just had would seem to indicate that I'm quite the little moaner. Plus you'd think the bloody palms would be a dead giveaway." "I only know that whenever I spend time with you," he admits, "I come away feeling all chewed up." Ahh, I know that feeling well, my friend. Run away. Trust me. Run far, far away. "It doesn't have to be that way," Sofie promises. "Just marry me and pretend to father my potentially demonic baby while I cheat on you with another woman, and everything will be perfectly fine." Then she leans in for a kiss, which Jonesy doesn't really return. Probably because he's afraid of the razzing he's going to get from all the rousties who are obviously watching them. And then she leaves, and Jonesy just stands there, looking horny.
California. Father Walton and Tommy Dolan are having lunch at the local exploding diner. Tommy is digging for background information on Justin and Iris, and asking all sorts of questions about their upbringing. Now I don't know if maybe the color balance is still a little off on my new TV, but the black cassock against the black walls of the diner makes it totally look like Father Walton's head is just floating in midair. It's actually one of the creepier images in the entire episode, and when you consider the incest and razorblade Eucharist bookends we get this week, that's really saying something. "Did you ever see any sign he was destined to be a spiritual leader?" asks Tommy. "I always knew that God set him apart," answers Father Walton. "He kept insisting that we drive to visit Waco, and he really loved his Kool-Aid as a kid." Tommy then asks if Father Walton would be surprised to know that Justin just recently spent some time in an asylum, but Walton doesn't believe that such a thing could be possible. He declares the interview to be over, and heads for the exit. Before he can escape, however, Tommy reveals that he's in possession of an unfiled police report which says that a car matching Justin's black Ford was seen outside of St. Chin's on the night of the fire. Dun dun DUH! "Good day, Mr. Dolan," snaps Father Walton as he walks out the door. What? No "Every prophet in his house"? Come on! It would have been the perfect alibi!
Back in Carnieland, Sofie and Libby meet up at the breakfast table. Once again, the dialogue here is much more fun without any context. Sofie: "Yeah, we did get a little tight." Libby: "Girl, you were drunker than a fiddler's bitch." Oddly enough, I once played the Fiddler's Bitch in a Sunday-school production of Fiddler on the Roof. Zero Mostel even branded a little sunrise on one of my ass-cheeks, and a sunset on the other. Then I shit in his mouth and he responded by breaking every bone in my body. It was a tough Sunday school. We still weren't allowed to wear jeans, though. Sofie calls Libby over for some privacy, and then gleefully admits that she's decided to move things forward with Jonesy. Libby looks crushed, and warns her friend to be careful. "I'm just saying, men are dogs," she snarks. Woof! She flaunts her breasts a little bit on this line, which was a nice touch, and then asks if Sofie is feeling okay. "You were looking at me kinda strange last night," she adds. Sofie blames it all on the Mezcal, and assures Libby that everything is absolutely "huckey-duck" between them. "Huckey-duck"? Oy. Those crazy kidz and their phat wacky slang. Surprisingly, the two of them don't kiss here, even though they both totally want to. Sigh.
Jonesy and Ma, meanwhile, are elsewhere discussing the whole Sofie situation. They admit that they've both had conversations with the girl recently, and Ma adds that Sofie is obviously crazy about him. Well, I'm not too sure about the "him" part, but Sofie is definitely crazy about something. Jonesy agrees with this sentiment, saying that she's only interested in him "this week," and that's probably going to change soon. "We're just gonna have to be more careful," Ma decides, as she grabs his crotch in broad daylight in the middle of the midway. Insert your own jiggle joke here. I'm tapped out. Jonesy tells her that he really wants to give things a chance with Sofie, and that he further wants to end things with Ma because it's just too "complicated." "You didn't think it was complicated when I was sucking the head off your hammer," she snarls. Well, yeah. That's because you weren't using the feather. It's totally the feather that complicates things. She also points out that she's the married one in this situation, so she has a lot more to lose. "All the more reason I should be with Sofie," he replies. Totally failing to see the obvious logic in this argument, Ma complains that Sofie is just the girl in the fairy tale in Jonesy's mind, and he can't see past that. And what fairy tale would that be, exactly? Gretel & Gretel? Jill & Jill? The Old Woman Who Lived in a Sensible Shoe? This is also the point in the scene when it becomes really obvious that the weather was significantly windier when they were shooting Ma's close-ups, because her hair keeps blowing every which way until they cut back to the two-shot, where it's perfectly still. She moves in for a kiss, but Jonesy pulls away. He continues making a series of very rational excuses as to why their relationship needs to end, and then he finally declares emphatically that it's over. He walks away, but Ma chooses to throw all discretion to the wind (get it?) and shouts after him that Pa Pimp felt sorry for him, and just wanted to help make him a man again. "But it's clear now that no amount of fucking can do that," she yells. "You're still the same yellow gimp you always were." Yeah. Insert your own Pulp Fiction joke here.
Cut to Ben, hammering in a stake. Oy, with the penis imagery already. Lila sashays over and delivers a hearty wolf whistle as she takes this sight in. Well, if there was ever a girl that would like them dirty, it's definitely Lila. She starts teasing the boy about getting his "gun cleaned" by Adrienne Barbeau, and further adds that everyone in the entire carnival already knows about it. "How was she?" she asks. "Grateful, I imagine." Hee! That's why I love Lila. She moves right up to Ben, and tells him that she was really hoping to be the one to pop his cherry. Her words, by the way. Ben, however, just keeps repeating over and over again that he's trying to work, because his "Hooked on Phonics" forty-five has a skip in it at that point, and it's all he knows how to say anymore. "If you ever get tired of Grandma," she whispers, "come and see Lila." Heh. What's disturbing about this show is that there's at least a ten-percent chance that Adrienne really is his grandmother.
Out in California, Iris and Father Walton are walking through town discussing Tommy's claims about the asylum and the police report. Iris, of course, insists that it's all ridiculous, but Father Walton is worried that Tommy might go public. He also threatens to bring in the Bishop to investigate, but Iris demands that Justin be given a chance to explain himself first. Whatever. This story doesn't get interesting for at least another twenty minutes.
Back in the Mexican town, Lodz and Lila are checking out all the Day of the Dead festivities. Lodz sends her off to do whatever it is she does, and then asks a local shopkeeper (in fluent Spanish, no less) where he can buy a snake. The shopkeeper calls over a little boy, who leads Lodz to the local endangered species dealer. I was kind of sad to see that this guy wasn't played by Marlon Brando, but whatever. That disappointment was more than made up for by all the creepy animals this guy has in his very, very dark store, including a tarantula, a number of different snakes, and even what looked suspiciously like a Komodo dragon. I mean, you knew there had to be a Freshman shout-out in there someplace, right? Lodz ends up paying cash for a very poisonous snake, and then asks the guy to bag it for him. He does not, however, specify paper or plastic. You know, in case you care.
Back in Carnieland, Adrienne finds Samson relaxing against the side of a truck and immediately asks him how old he thinks she is. Samson proves once again that he's the smartest man in the carnival by refusing to answer. Here's a little tip for all you guys in the audience: There's only three numbers you ever need to know -- 29, 105, and 6. Those will get you out of pretty much any tight situation you might find yourself in. It is, however, important to make sure you use the right one at the right time. Samson doesn't subscribe to this theory, however, so after some additional prodding he finally decides to go with "older than Shirley Temple and younger than Joan of Arc." Modern day translation: "Older than Mary Kate and Ashley, younger than Mary Steenburgen." That's not good enough for Adrienne, however, and she insists that he put a number on it. Samson cringes in anticipation of getting this wrong, and then guesses 52. Which is pretty safe, I suppose, because Adrienne Barbeau is actually 58. And if you knew how hard it was to get that factoid without internet access, you'd be very, very impressed with me. Adrienne further asks what he thinks the age difference is between her and Ben (34 years, if you care), and Samson wonders what that "has to do with the price of beans in Tijuana." "Not a damn thing," she replies, apparently believing that Ben has chosen to blow her off because of the age difference and not because of the evident cleanliness gulf. Samson, however, feels compelled to warn her away from Ben for an entirely different reason. Despite the fact that Adrienne is still young enough to "buck a bull off a bridge" (ew), he reminds her that she knew Hack Scudder better than anyone. "He was trouble," explains Samson. "And I like the kid, I do. [pause] Ten times the trouble." He offers her a snort from his flask, and then they both sit there, wallowing in their senior citizen sorrows. Fade to black.
Fade back up on Carnieland at night, as the show is once again in full swing. Pa Pimperson is busy barking for La Coocharaca, whom he describes as the top bullfighter in all of Spain. Which reminds me of a great bull testicle joke I know, that I won't repeat here because I'm pretty sure my mom is going to want to read this recap at some point before I fly home. Hi, Mom! La Cooch's stage name is "La Matadora Caliente," and she comes out to do her routine dressed in a very revealing bullfighter's costume. Olé! She also makes a number of suggestive gestures with her…sword? Bullfighter's stick? Cattle prod? I have no idea what that thing is called, and this is right about when I really started to miss the internet. Oh, Google! Why hast thou forsaken me? In any event, she's stroking the thing like it's about to start jiggling, and the crowd is going wild in response. La Cooch definitely lacks Dora Mae's joie de vivre (not to mention her mismatched mammaries), but she does have a certain style all her own. Ma doesn't particularly care for it, however, and she stands over in the wings griping to Pa the entire time. Then she asks him to go fetch a couple of buckets of water, and I got a really nasty premonition that things were about to go all Flashdance on our asses. Then again, Cynthia Ettinger in leg-warmers would definitely be a sight to behold. La Coocharaca is oblivious to all this, and continues dancing until Ma reappears in the audience section of the tent, demanding that the music be shut off. She compliments the men on their fine, fancy clothing (most of which isn't any less dirty than Ben's underwear, which is saying a lot), and then asks to see their "pocket squares." Or their "disgusting, snot-encrusted squares of felt," as I like to call them. The guys all whip out whatever spare pieces of fabric they can find, and then Ma has Random Rousties #32 and 212 pour the buckets of water all over her and her paper-thin white silk dress. Needless to say, the effect this creates is quite impressive. It certainly gets the attention of all the men in the tent, who are now completely ignoring La Coocharaca. "Look at me," purrs Ma, as she raises her dripping arms above her head. "I'm all wet. Can't y'all help a girl dry off?" The men enthusiastically start pawing at her with their disgusting, snot-encrusted squares of felt, much to the dismay of both Pa Pimperson and La Cooch, who can only watch and pray that none of those men has a bad case of hay fever.
Later that evening, Pa and La Coocharaca are wandering around outside of the tent. La Cooch can't help but compliment Ma on her sexiness, which leads Pa to suggest that she start sleeping with Ma instead of him. Um, yeah. Right idea, wrong family member. Sorry, Pa. La Cooch grabs him for a kiss, but he pushes her away. "Not like I didn't have enough trouble with one woman," he gripes. "I had to go double up on them." Heh. It's a hard knock life, my friend. "I thought you liked me?" sniffs La Cooch. "No, I do," replies Pa, with a delivery that defies transcription. Toby Huss rocks. As usual. "You know what you need?" asks La Cooch. "Two bottles of tequila and the tender caresses of Roustie π?" guesses Pa. Nope. "A bruja," she says. A what?
Well, I guess "bruja" is Spanish for "sociopathic pregnant proto-lesbian who can see the future," because we cut to La Cooch, shoving Pa Pimperson into Sofie's trailer for a reading. Spanish is a very economical language. Pa insists that the fortune-telling business is all a con game, but La Cooch claims that sociopathic pregnant proto-lesbians are highly respected in the Hispanic community. She even coughs up the two bits to pay for him. "I'll try anything once," he mutters, finally giving in. Then he notices Mommatose in the back of the tent. "Hey there, Appy," he shouts. "I like your new hairdo!" "You know she's not deaf, right?" whispers Sofie. Heh. She has Pa take a seat and shuffle the cards, and then tells him to ask whatever he wants to know. "What color is my piss going to be tomorrow?" he wonders, and if you really need a fortune teller to answer that question for you, then it's probably time to pay a visit to the doctor. Ouch. He tells her to just go ahead and start, and she flips over the first card. It's "The Hierophant" (Pa: "That's a word you don't hear everyday"), which means he's a man with great power and authority over others. Except it's upside-down at the moment, so it means exactly the opposite. The card has two lovers on it, and Pa remarks that it's definitely a good card for him. "It means a strong partnership or union," explains Sofie. Pa assumes this refers to him and Ma, but the card is the Two of Cups, which means there's a new relationship in his life. Sofie stops to listen to Mommatose, and then looks back to suggest that this could be referring to La Coocharaca. Pa thinks Mommatose saw his eyes twitching or something, but Sofie insists it's all in the cards. "Suuuuure it is," he jokes. The card is The Knight of Swords. "That, um, means there's another man in your house," Sofie explains. "There's a lot of other men in my house," replies Pa Pimperson, which is also not the sort of thing you hear every day. Mommatose speaks up again (so to speak), and Sofie is forced to clarify that the card means it's just one man, who keeps coming back. "And he's not a johnny," she adds sadly. "He's a friend." Pa desperately wants to know who it is, and Mommatose seems only too happy to reveal the name. Sofie, however, gets angry, and calls her mother a liar. Then she kicks Pa out, and refuses to give him any more information. "Who else knows about this?" she asks Mommatose, as soon as Pa is gone. "Does Libby know?" We don't get any answer, but I think I can safely say that I wouldn't want to be Jonesy right now. Or a Limpie, for that matter. With Sofie's already demonstrated fondness for using scissors, that jiggle could be in dire jeopardy.
And, in fact, we do immediately cut to Sofie (get it?), standing outside getting a cup of coffee. She looks up just in time to see Jonesy limp over to a table near where Ma Cooch is sitting. The three of them all look at each other silently, and no one seems very happy. Sofie, in fact, looks downright evil. Eeeeeevil!
Elsewhere in Carnieland, Adrienne is surprised by a knock on her trailer door. She probably thinks it's Ben, but it actually turns out to be her bag of laundry from earlier in the episode. Lila is nowhere to be found, however. Adrienne carries the bag back inside, and then it to examine her dresses. To the surprise of absolutely no one, a snake bursts out, and bites her on the arm. "Oh, lord," she whispers, as she sinks to the floor. Which is fortunate, because we all already know the Lord isn't allowed in her bed. The snake, which is obviously the one Lodz purchased earlier, slithers out of her trailer and over to Gayko's place, where they both have a grand old time getting drunk, molting, and discussing their favorite cold-blooded-animal-friendly vacation spots.
California "Wish I Was" Dreamin'. Justin and Iris are home for the evening, with Iris telling her brother all about Tommy Dolan and his shocking allegations regarding who might have torched St. Chin's of the Crispy McGuffin. Justin maintains that there's nothing to be worried about, because the police report was never filed, and anyway there must be hundreds of black Broncos…er, Fords cruising around out there. "You don't understand," Iris insists. "Once this story is out, the damage is done. You don't get to take it back. For God's sake, we live less than a hundred miles from Neverland! Haven't you been paying attention? If the cassock fits, they won't acquit!" But even this surprisingly nuanced view of the tabloid media (for 1934, at least) is not enough to trouble Justin, who simply dry-swallows two more of the Zoloft that Dr. McInkstain prescribed, and then gets up to put on his coat. His plan is to just go and have a nice little chat with Tommy Dolan, which will no doubt fix all of Justin's publicity problems, and also leave Tommy snacking on cockroaches and ruing the day he ever tried to put the moves on Iris. Oy. You know, I think I'd almost rather be Jonesy than Tommy right now. At least Jonesy got his hammer sucked.
"That won't do any good," pleads Iris, which is hopefully a reference to the "chat with Tommy" plan, and not the "Jonesy gets a blow-job" one. "Oh, I think it will," replies Justin. Oh, yeah. Tommy is toast. Iris reveals that Tommy already talked to Father Walton, and now the Bishop is coming. "Let the Bishop come," sneers Justin. "We have nothing to hide." "Yes, we do," Iris announces. Justin doesn't get what she means at first, but after a long silence, he finally figures it out. Iris set the fire at St. Chin's. You know, on the Six Feet Under forums, we bickered for months over who set that fire in Season One (and we did the same with The Sopranos Season Four, for that matter), and yet no one here even thought twice about it. We all just assumed it was the Mintern city council. Nice work on the misdirection, especially because it actually matters here, unlike on SFU. "I did it for you," Iris insists. "They were a sacrifice, like the lambs of Abraham." Justin is flabbergasted. Iris reminds him that they have fame now, not to mention all the donations and the three thousand dollars from the city council. They can finally build a new church, and everything will be just hunky-dory. Or huckey-ducky. Justin is so furious that he literally doesn't know if he wants to kill her or, well, kiss her. He grabs her around the throat, and his eyes start to go black, but then he finally makes up his mind and shoves his tongue down her throat. Iris is just as into it as he is, and for once I'm actually glad that I'm writing this from my notes, because it means I don't have to watch this scene again. And here I thought I was getting away from West Virginia by flying south for vacation. Oh, well. Anyway, Justin finally pulls back from his sister, and then throws her down on the couch. He looms over her, his eyes burning with lust and fury. She stares up at him expectantly, and then…scene.
Thank. Fucking. God.
The scant few remaining audience members not currently suffering from glaucoma, macular degeneration, or giant, flaming, sulfuric-acid-coated skewers in their eyeballs have reported to me that our final scene of the night takes place back in Carnieland. I'm told Gabriel comes home to find his mother still lying on the floor, and immediately whips off his false sling to investigate. "Get Ben," she croaks, proving that she either knows about his healing powers, or is already planning ahead and wants to make sure they have enough dirt to cover her coffin. Gabe quickly locates Ben in a nearby tent, and they both rush back to the trailer, where Ben determines that Adrienne is no longer breathing. He carries her unconscious body out to a car, and then orders Gabe to stay put there at the carnival while he goes out to heal her. "Remember how I fixed your arm?" he asks. "I'll fix her, too." Hmm. That bit of exposition seemed totally unnecessary until I finally remembered that we're dealing with the two dumbest men on earth here. "What's an arm?" asks Gabe. "Who's this dead lady in the car?" wonders Ben.
Okay, not really. Instead, Ben just drives Adrienne out into the wilderness somewhere. He lays her lifeless body down in front of the headlights, and immediately tries to apply his special healing touch. No, not that "special healing touch." But only because he couldn't find a sock. Unfortunately, however, Ben's powers seem to have surprisingly deserted him for the moment. Hmm. Too much dirt under his fingernails, perhaps? Or maybe it's the hair on his palms from all those times he could find a sock. He keeps trying and trying and trying, but nothing seems to work. I also think it's safe to say that he's not attempting CPR, because he probably can't spell "CPR," and we all know there's no way he's ever going to indulge in the mortal sin of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Besides, "resuscitation" has like five syllables in it, and that's six too many for Ben. He finally lowers his head to rest it tearfully against her lifeless chest, and then we fade to black for the final time.
week: Will Ruthie live? Will Justin and Iris fuck? Is Sofie pregnant? Who is the Child of Light? Who is the Child of Darkness? Has Jonesy jiggled for the last time? What happened in St. Louis between Lodz and Management? Can Ma and Pa Cooch's marriage be saved? Who is Private Funboy? What's up with Creepy Ugly Naked Tattooed Guy? Where the hell is that cornfield? Will this show get renewed? Does Sofie like boys or girls? What ever happened to the twins? Does Samson know more than he's saying? Have you seen my bear? Can Lodz control Ben's powers? What does "Tavatara" mean? Why is Ben wanted for murder? What happened in the old country? Who's related to whom? How many rousties are there, anyway? Who is Management? Why is Spain? And most importantly, why do so many people care about the ultimate fate of a smelly, unlikeable moron who's never said a nice word to anyone? The answers to at least some of these questions will probably be revealed in the big season finale. On the other hand, they might not. This is Carnivàle, after all.