Previously, on Dawson's Creek: I don't know. Some boring, pointless shit that no one watching this show really cares about. I mean, come on. Why are you still watching? I bet you five hundred dollars that it's one of a very few reasons: you're still hoping for a Joey/Pacey reunion; you've got the hots for someone on the show; or you've come this far, there's nothing else on Wednesdays at eight, and you just have to see the goddamn thing through to the end. All valid reasons. On the other hand, if you think you can extricate yourself, if there's any way that you can manage to pull yourself away from this show at all, for the love of God, get out now. Get out and never look back. Go! Go! Save yourself! Leave me! Run! Ruuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun!
We open on the set of What If We Threw A Subplot And Nobody Came?, where a bunch of polyester-clad extras are jiving to "We Are Family," which is like my least favorite disco song ever. And I like disco. But "We Are Family" is, in my opinion, weak sauce. What about some ABBA, people? Todd calls, "cut," and the music stops. Forever! Okay, not forever. But a girl can dream. Dawson brings Todd a cheese danish, which he promptly shoves in his mouth. Dawson comments mildly that this is Todd's fourth danish of the day and he might have to "stage an intervention." Dude, if loving cheese danish is wrong, I don't want to be right. In fact, I might need to run out to Costco and buy a platter of danishes to get me through the rest of this episode, especially considering that we're only two minutes in and I'm already wondering whether I ought to start drinking or just go straight to the hard drugs. Todd mumbles through a mouthful of pastry that ever since Dawson made him quit smoking, he's become "some kind of cyborg-like eating machine." Dawson dismisses this -- why? I don't know. Becoming a cyborg-like eating machine makes plenty of sense to me. But then, I used to recap The X-Files -- and says that Todd's eating because he's nervous. He's being Nervous Todd. "Nervous Todd?" Todd asks. Dawson calls Nervous Todd "one of the many faces of Todd," which apparently include "Drunk and Belligerent Todd," "Sober and Belligerent Todd," "Creepy, Corny Todd" and "Sweet Todd, who is usually accompanied by Hidden Agenda Todd." This whole subplot makes me Bitter, Unhappy Recapper Jessica, who is usually accompanied by Wants To Kill Herself Jessica. And, apparently, today we're being introduced to Wearing A Brand New Wiglet Dawson, because those bangs aren't anywhere near being real. It turns out that they're waiting for some guy who's this big fancy actor, and Todd is nervous because this big fancy actor is going to do for Todd's movie "what Janet Leigh did for Psycho, what Drew Barrymore did for Scream." Because, you know, Scream and Psycho are roughly equivalent. Note to TPTB: Kevin Williamson isn't the executive producer anymore. You can stop kissing his ass. Although I did like Scream, I have to admit. Pass me a danish.
Enter said Big Fancy Movie Star (right on cue), as played by Eddie Cahill in a horrible wig. His name is, like, Max Warfield or something, but to me, he will always be Tag. Tag greets Todd and Dawson and helpfully exposits that his character is killed off in the first fifteen minutes of the movie. Todd waves this off and promises that he'll be back the sequel as a "flesh-eating zombie." God, Todd, could you watch your spoilers? Whoops -- it's a fictional movie, isn't it? Sorry. Force of habit, there. I've become so spoiler-phobic about certain shows (Alias, 24, Buffy), as a matter of fact, that I can barely even read Entertainment Weekly anymore. Either the cover article is one that I really want to read but can't because I'm scared they'll spoil me (as has happened in the past), or it's about, like, Kris Kristofferson and I couldn't care less. I'm about five minutes away from creating my own magazine, called SpoilerFree, which would be full of interesting articles and pretty pictures, but guaranteed to be sans spoilers. And that just goes to show you that I spend entirely too much time thinking about TV. Tag and Todd keep talking while I'm planning my multimedia empire, and I miss part of the conversation, but at some point Tag says something about having to "work around Spielberg" and Dawson practically bursts into tears of jealousy. He manages to control himself enough to introduce himself to Tag, and smiles wanly when Tag suggests that they go out and get some drinks after they're done shooting. Tag flashes him all his teeth, then turns to Todd and asks where he can find "the lovely Natasha," as he "[likes] to get to know whoever [he's] working with." Todd chuckles. Dawson flares his nostrils and just looks furious. Dawson, he said he wanted to get to know her, not that he needed to screw her brains out.
Credits. "Are you seriously still watching this show?" the Mulder action figure asks. "I think it's making me stupider," the Scully pipes up. It's a sad day when your action figures no longer support your career. If the small plastic talking people turn against me, I know that I am truly and entirely alone.
After the credits, we cut to Liberty Hell's Kitchen, where Joey is trying to study at the bar as music blares in the background. Who studies in a bar? This is basically the question Oliver asks her when he slides up, tying on his cute little apron. She explains that the library is packed and everyone in her dorm is partying, since finals week is almost over. They were doing "a nude slippy-slide" when she left, she tells him. Oliver cocks a brow. Man, we never did the nude slippy-slide when I was in school, and I lived on the Clothing Optional floor. Also known as "the Arts floor." Also known as "gay guys, theatre majors, exhibitionists, and the English majors who love them." Ah, college. Oliver tells her she can study at his apartment, and after much head-tilting and half-smiling and joking about this being his way to get her into his bed, Joey gratefully agrees, scooping up her books and running out. She flashes him the thumbs-up before she goes, which amused me for some reason. I have to find a reason to go on somewhere, I suppose.
Over to Pacey's, where Emma is swearing in her fake accent as she cleans the toilet. Pacey slinks over in his fancy suit and his horrible Pat Riley hair and rattles off an incredibly long and boring monologue full of overly long words that basically boils down to, "Can I ask you a favor?" He needs her to be his date to the office party. He'll even buy her a pretty new dress if she agrees. And yet, she refuses. Why is Pacey even asking Emma? Ask Jen! The poor girl already feels like no one loves her. Anyway, Pacey starts begging. It's rather unattractive. Emma refuses, again, in her horribly fake accent. When I was in high school, we did a play where we had to have British accents (which is never a good idea for high school students) and Megan Gray sounds just like the ninety percent of the cast of that show: like a young American girl with a very fake, forced British accent. Pacey offers her $25 to come to the party with him. "Are you saying I'm a prostitute?" Emma yelps. It sounds more like, "Our 'oo sawing eyeeeem a prouseTIToooooote?" And her stupid accent is the last straw. I can't go on, people. Seriously, I can't take this crap anymore. I just can't. This show is so stupid, I think it's given me a wasting disease of some sort. Because I just can't stay conscious to long enough to watch the entire episode in one go. I can sort of stand it when it's first run -- I turn on the TV and watch with one eye while reading a magazine or painting my toenails or something, but to actually write the recaps? It's almost physically painful. This show is so dull. Nothing happens. Anything that does happen generally makes me hate the main characters even more. And Jen is apparently dead. Sweet Lord, please take me now! Yeah. So, while I was complaining, Pacey managed to talk Emma into being his date for the aforementioned office party by promising to do all the chores around the apartment for two months. Dude, I would marry a man who promised to clean my apartment for two months.
Over on the set of Whatever, Who Cares, I Want to Die, Natasha chortles that she can't believe that she's working with Tag! She just can't believe it! Whee! Dawson and his mini-toupee are less thrilled. On cue, again, approacheth Tag. He wants to run lines with Natasha. She is unable to respond to his pleasantries with anything other than a giddy "uh-huh" and a girlish twitter. So Tag swaggers into her trailer and responds to Dawson's angry nostril flares with a genial request that he hit the road. Because Tag feels "really vulnerable" when he's rehearsing. Dawson heaves and flares and stomps out. "Thanks. Dawson, right? Thanks, Dawson," Tag calls after him. Dawson makes a face like Tag just killed and ate his dog.
On the other side of town, Pacey and Emma go shopping for a dress. This scene is not at all interesting. Nor is it funny. Nor is it particularly germane to the plot in any way. And yet, here it is on my TV screen. Anyway, they're all talking about Emma's "look," or some such, and Emma has to self-righteously inform Pacey that her clothes are all held together with safety pins for one reason. And it's "called individuality." Pacey just holds a dress in his hand and stares at her. "Ever heard of it?" she asks him. Oh my God, her accent gets sillier in every scene. She's all, "It's cawled indee-vidual-tee! Evah heard o' eettt?" Honestly, I'd like to know who decided that this character had to be English, anyway. I mean, it's not like...oh, forget it. I don't care. I just remembered that I already decided I can't go on. Anyhoo, Pacey forces Emma to try a bunch of stuff on, finds himself entranced by the silhouette of her naked body backlit in the dressing room, and, when she emerges in a lovely although unremarkable black gown, stammers a bunch of nonsensical sentences in what I believe is an attempt to tell her that this party he's bringing her to is also a contest to see who in the office can date the hottest girl, but he can't get the words out in any kind of acceptable order because he's all stunned by how hot Emma looks and he insists that this is the dress and wow, I said that all in one breath. And did I just give away the Office Party Is A Contest thing? My bad. Do you really care? I didn't think so. Does anyone care if Emma lives or dies? Did anyone even watch this scene without thinking either "I'm bored," "Pacey sucks now," or "Sweet Jesus, take me home so I don't have to watch this anymore"? I figured as much. The only things that you need to take away from that scene are: a) Pacey tried to tell Emma that his office party was also a Hot Date Contest, but was distracted by her hotness and b)…shit, in my torment, I forgot b). Whatever. Let's move on. I'm holding onto my sanity by my fingernails, and spending any more time on the Emma/Pacey pairing might cause me to go careening over the edge into total lunacy. Combine that with the absurd office party/contest idiocy, and I will probably just completely lose my shit.
Oliver's Apartment On The Wrong Side Of The Tracks. Joey is sleeping in Oliver's bed when he lets himself quietly into the apartment. He looks down at her sleeping face and covers her gently with a blanket. The Romantic Guitar Of...Oh, Whatever sings softly in the background as Oliver smiles down at Joey, then sacks out on the floor to the bed. Aw. He's dreamy. But I'm still bored.
Daybreak. Oliver wakes Joey and gives her a cup of coffee. Oliver is the best! Although I also prefer, as previously mentioned, a danish. Or a rasher of bacon. Anyway. Joey's remarkably smirky for first thing in the morning and jokes that she knew he'd find a way to get her into bed. Oliver chuckles and just explains the he didn't want her to miss her test. Joey dubs this "very considerate" and tells him that she knows the material of the test forward and backward. "I knew you could do it, tiger," he says, and she swoops in and kisses him, all coffee and morning breath. Joey falls back against her pillow and squeals that she likes it when he calls her tiger. After I finish dry-heaving, Oliver grins and asks Joey if she snooped around much while he was at work. After several twitchy, tongue-y smiles and much hair-flipping, Joey admits that she looked in the medicine cabinet. "We'll talk about the dandruff shampoo later," she chirps, before mentioning that she almost tripped over his ice skates. "I played hockey," Oliver says. Joey tells him that they're figure skates. "I'm gay," Oliver says. Not really. He says something about how he used to figure-skate a little and that he "possesses a certain masculine grace." Oh, holy crap. To get Joey to shut up about his figure-skating, Oliver kisses her, and they start to make out. After several minutes of tonsil hockey -- or, in this instance, I guess, it's tonsil figure-skating -- Joey pulls away and announces that she has to tell him something. She stammers that she's not the kind of girl who jumps right into bed. "Really? Because I'm the kind of guy who sleeps with a girl after only one date, like, once a week," Oliver jokes. But Joey doesn't think that casual sex is funny! She tells him that she has "a certain pattern with sex" -- in other words, that she generally waits several long, angst-filled years before she hops in the sack with anyone. Didn't she have sex with Charlie last season? There were no years of torment and anguish there. Well, other than over her horrible singing. Anyway, Oliver tells Joey that he doesn't mind taking it slow. But Joey, that shameless, shameless hussy, explains that she's really ready to break that pattern. She really wants to bone him. Or something. So Oliver kisses her and takes off his shirt, cuing a cheesy sex montage to take us into commercial.
Fade up on post-coital cuddling and cooing. Oliver wonders if it would be "incredibly corny" if he told Joey how beautiful she is. "Yes," both of my action figures mutter from their bored stupor on the coffee table. Joey simpers that it would be, especially since she plans never to call him again. "Can I make you French toast to say goodbye?" Oliver asks. Joey agrees, then wonders how much time she has before her exam. She figures it can't be that late -- he woke her up at, like, dawn, after all. She reaches over their heads to retrieve the alarm clock and...it's 11 AM.
Joey screams like a scalded cat and leaps out of bed, throwing her pants on and squealing that she's missing her test! Oliver jumps out of bed and throws on his own clothes as Joey yells that he shouldn't have let her fall asleep. Oliver tells her to calm down; he's going to drive her to campus. Oh, god, the horror! The drama! The angst! The zzzzzzzzzzzz.
As soon as Oliver's truck pulls up outside of Flip-Flops's class, Joey spills out and takes off running. He calls after her, but she ignores him. Oliver rolls his eyes.
Finally, Joey races into class. The TA shakes his head and hands her the exam, telling her she has half an hour to complete it. Joey sits down and looks totally horrified. I do sympathize, you know. I once slept through a French exam. It started at noon. I know. That's bad. I had no excuse, either. I just totally overslept. My TA was nice enough to let me retake the test, but it was entirely my own fault and it was simply good luck that she didn't fail me.
Oh, God. Pacey. Emma. Office party. Say goodbye to any shred of sanity I had left, because I just can't take this anymore. Bobby Briggs is there, with a woman who...no, I can't take it. I feel myself slipping into the abyss of madness the longer I think about this ridiculous plot and this horrible stockbroker storyline and Bobby Briggs and where is the wrestling cheesecake Walter Mondale milktoast hotpants? Oh, shit, that didn't make any sense at all, did it? I'm totally losing my shit over this idiotic plot. So, Emma's taken the dress that Pacey bought her and punkified it. She looks silly. "What a…fabulous dress. Love the safety puns," Bobby Briggs tells her snidely. His boobtastic date smirks. Emma explains that she "made some modifications," and infield fly rule yoga pinwheel marzipan wingnuts. Shit! I'm sorry. I think my subconscious is trying to protect my sanity by filling my brain with nonsense any time this show veers into the Mind-Numbingly Boring/Totally Ridiculous/Nobody Fucking Cares Anymore category. Anyway, Pacey drags Emma into the other room and wonders what the hell she did to the dress he just spent $300 on. It's a sad day when I don't even like Pacey anymore. She just smirks that it was worth the cash, since the "kitchen shears went through it like butttaaaah." Then she runs off to find the punchbowl. Pacey makes a put-upon face.
The Movie That Nobody Loved. Natasha and Tag dance, seventies-style. It's just...horrible. Really, really horrible and awful. Natasha is a terrible dancer. Finally, the scene ends with a juicy kiss. "That was hot, guys, loved it!" Todd lies before turning to Dawson and saying that Natasha and Tag have good chemistry. Dawson wanly agrees. Still miked, but apparently unaware of that, Natasha and Tag talk on set as the crew runs around and...does stuff. She calls the last take "killer." Natasha is a moron. Tag agrees that they were "totally in the moment." Dawson closes his eyes in pain, and I don't think it's because the dialogue is so clunky. Tag tells Natasha that "[her] boyfriend" doesn't look very happy about her kissing him. Natasha twitters that she totally doesn't have a boyfriend. "What about that guy in your trailer?" Tag asks. "Dawson? God no! He's a PA," she squeals. Over in his little director's chair, Dawson looks perturbed. Todd gives him a sympathetic look and comes over to gently ask Dawson to fetch him some java. The Sad Piano Of Holy Crap, I Don't Give A Shit plays softly in the background as Dawson flares his nostrils like a filly in heat.
Joey shows up at Flip-Flops's house. Suddenly, it's dark. Has she been crying over her little mishap all day? Oh, wait: I don't care. Flip-Flops opens the door. "Oh, goody. I was hoping it was you," he tells her flatly. Joey wails that she really needs to talk to him. "Yeah, I know. I was made aware of your situation from the twenty-seven messages you left on my office voicemail," Flip-Flops says. Joey speeds that she studied really hard for his test and she just lost track of time and she's really made a lot of progress in his class and blah blah blah she needs a retest. "No," Flip-Flops says. So Joey yelps some more about oversleeping and being disoriented and how she wasn't even in her own room and please, please, please please please? "Look, it is your responsibility to get to the test on time," Flip-Flops finally tells her, like, thank God, and also, no duh. He explains that because she didn't even complete the first question, she got an F on the exam, making her final grade a big fat D. Which makes me wonder how good her grade in the class was anyway. I guess Miss Potter was getting a B! The HORROR! "You see, it's not so bad. You still pass. Good night, Potter," Flip-Flops says, and tries to shut the door. Joey puts out her hand and whines that no matter how he feels about her, he can't be "this vindictive." He's not BEING vindictive. YOU SCREWED UP, you self-involved little twit. If he let you retake the test, that would be him being nice. Everyone else in your class got there on time. And it's not like you were puking your guts out. This is college. You're an adult. Don't whine about how this is all about Flip-Flops having it in for you. You missed your final! You deserve an F! God, I hate Joey more than Dawson now! Argh! Anyway. Flip-Flops tells her that this isn't about vindictiveness. He applies the same standards to all his students. "It's nothing personal. But it's a tough break, kid. I feel for you," he says, and shuts the door. So Joey's face all crumbles, and she sits on his stoop and bursts into tears. I might have some sympathy for Joey if I liked her at all. But her sense of entitlement really came through in that scene, and it didn't make me feel sorry for her. It made me want to smack her across the mouth.
The Movie Where I Kill Myself If This Movie Plot Drags On Much Longer. Tag lies in a pool of blood on the dance floor. "Promise me one thing," he breathes. "Keep on dancing." Then he dies. Hee. I mean, that was supposed to be funny, right? "Nooooooooooo!" Natasha wails over his lifeless body. "And cut!" Todd yells. "That was beautiful. That's a wrap on [Tag]." Everyone claps Tag on the back and shakes his manly hand. Tag gives Natasha a cozy little kiss, then comes down to Todd and Dawson. "Thanks, mate, you did a fabulous job," Todd tells him. "I know," Tag says modestly. Dawson sulks as Todd and Tag walk away. Natasha slinks up to him and basically wraps herself around his leg. "Hey, so aren't you going to say anything about my performance?" she asks. Dawson weakly comments that she's great. "You're a real actress, Natasha," he tells her. She's also real dumb, because she totally doesn't get the barely subtextual subtext and twitters that Tag is "amazing." Dawson blandly agrees. Then Natasha blows him off to go get drinks with the Amazing Tag, promising to come by his room when they're done. She runs off. Stare. Flare. Glare.
Party Of Oh My God, I Think I'm About To Become Totally Nonsensical Again. Pacey and Emma stand by the free food, and Pacey rips off Big by eating an ear of baby corn kernel by kernel. Emma can't believe he's eating it like that. Pacey says he's doing it for comic effect. Emma says it isn't working. I wipe six months' worth of magazines, three candles, two spoons, a half-empty can of Diet Coke, and two action figures off my coffee table and start screaming. I can't take this show anymore! No one cares about Pacey and goddamned Emma! No one! No one cares about Pacey's fucking job! The combination of these two plots has served to push me over the edge entirely! I can't take it anymore! It's not even offensive! It's just utterly boring! C-SPAN is more engaging! I hate all of these characters! I hate everyone! I hate myself! God, why? WHY? WHHHHHHHY? "Dude," the Mulder action figure mutters from the ground. "Crap, having terminal nose cancer was more fun than this is," the Scully tells him. And because I can't take their endless yammering anymore, especially when I'm trying to get through what has become the most painfully boring hour of television, like, ever, I snatch both of them up and put them in the freezer. When I get back to the living room, Pacey tells Emma to admit that she's having fun. Emma cops to enjoying the free food. And here comes Bobby Briggs. You know, Dana Ashbrook's Twin Peaks character would have decked his Dawson's Creek character. He compliments her dress. Again. Snidely. In a non-complimentary way. "Oh, I see. You're taking the piss, aren't you?" Emma sneers. "You think my dress is stupid and you're a small-minded jerk who's probably small in other areas as well." Bobby Briggs looks mildly gobsmacked, and Pacey looks horrified. Here's my question: how did Pacey not get fired two weeks ago, when he attacked Bobby Briggs for buying him a whore? Also, could I hate his hair more than I do right now? Probably not. So, Emma continues, calling Bobby Briggs "a dick" and "a schmuck with no imagination." Then she excuses her self to "go to the loo" before she "says something else that Pacey regrets." She stomps off. Pacey looks perturbed. Wow, she's a fun date. Good call, Pace!
Liberty Hell's Kitchen. Joey ties on her apron and looks sad. Behind the bar, Oliver slides her a cool beverage. He tells her that he's sure everything will work out okay. "[Flip-Flops] will come around," he says sympathetically. Joey shrugs that she already tried to talk to him. "Surprisingly, he doesn't care," she says, sliding onto a bar stool and announcing that she's going to lose her scholarship. "It's over," she says glumly. Oliver dries his hands with a towel and tells her not to "get melodramatic" on him. Joey's eyes bug out of her face. "MELODRAMATIC?" she squeals. Oliver looks around as if searching for a rescue team to get him out of this, then tells her that she's being "very worst-case scenario" about the whole thing. Joey wonders shrilly what possibly could be worse than "getting kicked out of college." DUDE. You will not get kicked out of college for one D. I got a D my first quarter at UCLA -- for a chemistry class I totally shouldn't have been in, as it was way too advanced for me -- and not only did I not get kicked out of school, I ended up graduating on time and with an excellent GPA, if I do say so myself. I don't even think that Joey will lose her scholarship, because it's more likely that she'll be put on academic probation and have a semester to pull up her GPA. And if she does lose her scholarship, well, you know, she could always get a loan, like three-quarters of the people in college today. It's not that I don't get why she's freaking out. Believe me, I spent a lot of time in college with my head in a book. I worked my ass off. I was academically obsessed. You know, when I wasn't getting wasted. (What can I say? I was good at balancing my priorities back then.) But Joey is being slightly irrational. Of course, I hate her, so I'm sure if she was freaking out over having, like, a tumor or something, I'd find some way to spin her reaction so that she's, you know, totally stupid and wrong.
Anyway. Where was I? Ah, yes. Oliver tells Joey that "now [she's] escalating to being kicked out!" Joey sputters something inarticulate. "You just take all this stuff way too seriously," Oliver says. Well, that's a bit unfair. While, as I said, I think Joey is being irrational -- and I think she totally did this to herself -- no one likes to get a D. Wow, see how I turned on a dime, there? Joey yelps that Oliver doesn't take ANYTHING seriously. "I take the things that matter seriously," he says. Joey retorts that Worthington matters to her, since it's a ride out of being the girl from the wrong side of the tracks of the creek! Or something. I mean, you know the drill. So then Joey goes on this whole long rant about how she doesn't know anything about him and he doesn't know anything about her and blah blah blah blah doesn't she ever get tired of being such a basket case all the time? I mean, doesn't it tire her out to maintain such righteous anger on such a consistent basis? Oliver snips that she's certainly pretty good at "assuming things" about him. And Joey shoots back that maybe she shouldn't have slept with him at all! She never should have broken her pattern! "Everything new I try just seems to backfire!" she spits. Oliver patiently points out that that's how people grow -- they learn from their mistakes. I can't believe it, but Oliver Hudson can really sell this dialogue. He's good. Oliver calmly tells Joey that he's sorry she missed her test, but he doesn't want them having sex to be a mistake to her. "But I guess it was," he adds. She looks at him silently. He raises his brows and walks to the other end of the bar. Sigh.
Office Party Of My Mental Breakdown. Two tarted-up hoochies admire themselves in the mirror in the ladies room and talk about how hot, hot, hot they are. "Hey, what about that punk freak? What is she even doing here?" one of the them asks. In the stall, Emma sits on the toilet and smiles to herself. One of the tarts tells the other that she hears that the punk freak was rude to Bobby Briggs and can you believe it? Emma strolls out of the stall and washes her hands. "Yeah? And why shouldn't I be? He's a little wanker," she says. The tarts don't contest this. "Yeah, but don't you want to win?" one of them asks. Emma is all, "Huh?" So the tarts explain that this office party is also a Hottest Date Contest, because apparently it's 1963 and this isn't actually an office, it's a frat house. And also, no one has ever heard of sexual harassment. I mean, seriously. What the hell? This is absurd. This is beyond absurd. Do no women work in that office? Does no one with a functioning brain cell work in that office? This plot point is bullshit, and it insults the audience's intelligence. ["Which differs from any other plot point on the show in the last six years…exactly not at all." -- Sars] I know this show isn't supposed to be a true-to-life drama -- by any stretch of the imagination -- but at the same time, a plotline like this is just beyond the scope of anyone's suspension of disbelief. It would never happen. And it's stupid. And for Pacey to buy into this kind of crap does a total disservice to his character. God, I hate this show.
Party. Pacey waits in corner. Bobby Briggs: "Where's your sassy pseudo-punk, Witter? I was hoping for another round." Pacey: "She's not here and I can't blame her. The way you treated her was unnecessary." Jessica: "Sweet Mary, SHUT UP!" Then Pacey gives one of his typical White Knight speeches about how Emma is too good for Bobby Briggs and she's ten times the person he'll ever be and blah blah blah they're so getting together at the end of the this episode, aren't they? Pacey and Emma, I mean, not Pacey and Bobby. Bobby Briggs gives Pacey a dirty look. "If you consider this such a waste of your time, we can remedy that come Monday morning," he says. "It's all well and good, this back-and-forth. But what you seemed to have forgotten, or what you've actually never learned, is that I'm your boss. You're not precious to me," he continues. And that's when I fell in love with Bobby Briggs. Because anyone who (mis)quotes David Silver is okay in my book. "In fact, you're on thin ice. You watch it when you open your mouth up to me, Witter. I'm not your friend. I'm the guy who's in charge of your future. Which is currently bleak," Bobby Briggs says, and storms off. Pacey looks, yes, put-upon. Is it wrong that I'm wishing for a giant nuclear bomb to hit Boston in the episode, killing them all in one fiery, beautiful instant?
The Movie Where The Recapper Killed Herself Once And For All. Dawson and Todd go over the shot list for the day. When they're done, Todd wonders what Dawson's plans are for the rest of the evening. Dawson whines that he has no plans because Natasha is out with Tag. "So you're…?" Todd inquires. "Sitting here, thinking of ways I could kill him?" Dawson offers. Dude, Tag doesn't think Natasha has a girlfriend. It's not his fault she's a skank. If you want to be pissed at someone, be pissed at Natasha. Todd makes a sympathetic face. "I don't even know what I'm doing. This isn't like me," Dawson says. You mean, it's uncharacteristic of you not to have a big temper tantrum and try to control Natasha's every move? That's true. Dawson whines that he didn't even confront Natasha. He just let her go out. "What the hell am I doing?" he asks. Um, not being a controlling jackhole, but instead acting like a passive-aggressive baby? I mean, Natasha is a tool, but she did invite Dawson along. He could have gone with her, or he could have told her that he overheard what she said to Tag and they need to discuss it. Instead, he kept his mouth shut. If he's unhappy with that, it's his own fault. Todd tells him that he's doing the smart thing if he wants to keep getting laid. He advises Dawson to ignore Natasha's behavior and just enjoy the rest of the time they have together. "Look, you may very well be the love of Natasha's life. But, sadly, you don't affect her movie offer. Plain and simple," Todd tells him gently. "So I say, just forget about it. " He pats Dawson on the shoulder. "That's terrible advice," Dawson whines. "And yet good advice, if you want to keep shagging Natasha," Todd counters. Dawson admits that Natasha has some crazy power over him; he looks at her, and he forgets his own name. All he can think about is sex. Yes, Dawson, that's called lust. Todd tells Dawson that "women know this" and it's what they use to "walk all over men." Really? Shit. I could have been doing that for years, then. Note to self: Start walking all over men. "I've been trod upon, believe you me," Todd says. Oh, Todd. Please don't grow a sensitive side on me. "I have to say something," Dawson says, explaining that he's "always been honest with people." According to my Dawson-To-English dictionary, that means he's "always been a tactless jackass." Todd smirks. "Yeah, let me know how that works out for you," he says dryly. "I can't take this!" Dawson yelps. The jealousy! It is driving him mad! "Why think when we can drink?" Todd asks. "Barkeep? Two shots of whiskey! And bring Dawson here whatever he wants." That's my Todd.
Liberty Hell's Kitchen. Joey is waitressing. Guess who's there? Flip-Flops! My God, that was so unpredictable! I almost peed my pants, that was such an exciting turn of events! Anyway, he orders a cheeseburger and a Guinness. And a pickle. And some water. With ice. Hmmm, I'm hungry. "How can you sit there and order from me and pretend like nothing happened? Why are you here? Are you trying to torture me, is that it?" Joey yells at him. She is so professional. Flip-Flops explains calmly that, as far as he is concerned, not all that much really did happen, and also, he's hungry. "It has nothing to do with you," he says, as Oliver watches from behind the bar and looks all angry and protective of Joey. "No, just my paltry little life which has come crashing down all around me, thanks to you," Joey spits. "Thanks to who, now?" Flip-Flops asks. And good for him. It's certainly not his fault that she overslept. Joey stomps away, and Flip-Flops calls her back. "You know what? I changed my mind. I don't want French fries. I really feel like onion rings," he says. Joey just makes a face and runs away, letting Oliver come out from behind the bar to defend her honor or some shit. "Wait, wait. Let me guess," Flip-Flops sneers at him. "You're the knight in shining armor and I'm the evil dragon in this little play we seem to be doing." Oliver tells Flip-Flops that it was his fault -- Oliver's, not Flip-Flops's -- that Joey was late for his exam. Flip-Flops -- and the rest of the world -- shrugs that he really doesn't care. "Go get a kitten out of a tree or something," he says. You know what really frustrates me? Sometimes the dialogue on this show can be sort of snappy -- the villains, in particular, and Todd's lines -- which means that the writers can do better than the tripe we get fed from Joey and the rest of the Creekers. I have to wonder how much of the crap that's gone on this season is the fault of the writers and how much is the fault of the network, asking them to dumb down the script or make so-and-so more or less likable. It would be interesting, for me, to see the scripts as they were first written in order to compare them to what we see on the screen. Certainly, I think burnout -- from everyone, especially the actors -- is one of the reasons that this season has been so agonizingly boring. No one cares anymore, and you can tell. But I'm always interested in behind-the-scenes dirt, and I wonder sometimes what's going on over at the Dawson's Creek production offices.
Anyway. "What is your problem, man?" Oliver asks. "Could you try to be human, for once?" Flip-Flops ignore this query and instead wonders where, exactly, Oliver thinks his relationship with Joey is going. "Believe me, it's not going to be a pretty picture," he says, and explains that Joey -- her little final exam snafu notwithstanding -- is "going places that [Oliver] can never hope to go." Oliver sneers and balls his hands into fists and turns to go. "Don't tell me it doesn't make you just a little crazy knowing that she's got the life you tried to fake for yourself?" Flip-Flops asks, getting up and following him. So Oliver decks him. In the background, Joey looks thrilled and horrified all at the same time. Flip-Flops rolls on the ground, gripping his face and looking appalled. Oliver just walks away. Joey runs over and gives Flip-Flops a totally dirty look, like he smashed his head into Oliver's fist on purpose.
Later. Joey sits on a parked car outside Liberty Hell's Kitchen. Oliver trudges out in full-on Marty McFly mode. "Hey," she says. "Hey," he replies. Joey announces that she's been waiting for him. He slides onto the car. "I just got fired," he tells her. Joey tells him that she's so, so sorry. Oliver shrugs that Flip-Flops isn't suing, at least. "So, no, it's not so bad," he says. Joey apologizes again. "Joey, Joey, Joey, Joey," Oliver sighs. "You don't have to [apologize]. I understand. And I'm sorry I called you melodramatic." Joey admits that she was melodramatic. She has a tendency to "escalate" things, she says, while he "downplays them." But together, they still make sense, she says. "So the Potter Path Less Traveled? Not so bad?" Oliver asks. Joey simpers that it's had a "rocky start" but "so far, so good." They gaze at each other moonily until Joey tells him he has a hell of a "right hook." He kisses her. She rests her head on his shoulder. Oh, whatever. Oliver tells her that he knows what they can do to get their minds off their troubles. Joey shoots him a lascivious eyeball. "No, not that, dirty girl," he says, and takes her hand to pull her off the car.
Dawson's Hotel New Crapshire. Dawson walks sadly down the hallway to his room. In the distance, he spies Tag and Natasha, standing in front of her door. They hug. Dawson frowns. Hey, this is just like the episode of where Donna discovers that Felice is having an affair, except for the part where Dawson isn't wearing black and red argyle-print hot pants, and also, it doesn't really look like Natasha is even having an affair. Tag heads down the hallway toward Dawson as Natasha goes into her own room. "Hey, man," Tag offers genially. Dawson flares and glares and looks like he's going to say something, but instead just goes into his own room and closes the door and crosses his eyes and breathes really, really hard. Natasha knocks on the door, so he lets her inside. She lies that she missed him and blah blah blah and basically he just lets her get away with lying to him in order to keep having hot sex.
Emma's place. She sits on the sofa in a very attractive kimono and watches TV. Enter Pacey. And I don't have the energy for this. But I will slog through it. For you. I do it all for you, people. Pacey sits to her on the sofa and announces that Bobby Briggs is a moron. "So, did I win then?" she asks. Pacey makes his confused face. "I said, did I win then? Probably not," she says. "Somebody told you about the contest," Pacey says. "Pretty sharp there, Pacey," Emma snarks. Pacey sighs. "All I can say is that I'm sorry. There's no noble speech I can give you." Instead, he apologizes for taking "the spineless corporate route" and tells her that he "forgot [he] had a choice." Emma sighs. "You always have a choice, Pacey," she platitudes. "True enough," Pacey admits, "although in that office it doesn't always feel like it." Oh, wah wah wah. Grow a pair, Pacey, and take some responsibility for your actions. Or why don't you quit in a dramatic coup -- the way you quit every job you've ever had -- and then decide to become, oh, let's see...how about a nuclear physicist? Your boss in that scenario will by played by Piper Laurie. And she's going to kick your ass. Emma asks again if she won. Pacey shakes his head, and she sighs and says that she doesn't get why he was taking her there. "Were you trying to humiliate me?" Pacey, stunned, sputters that he took her because he thought she would win. She was the hottest chick there, he says. Or something to that effect. "And I'm not taking a piss, or whatever you crazy English people say," he insists.
Cue The Piano Of Roommates Who Are About to Hook Up, Surprising No One. Pacey says that being at that party with Emma was "ten times the prize he'd ever get from those soulless corporate freaks." Since when is he all in love with Emma? Oh, I don't even care. Naturally, they start to make out, but are interrupted by Jack coming in with a burger. Where's Jen, by the way? Or Audrey? (Not that I give a shit about Audrey anymore.) Emma and Pacey fly apart and stare at the walls. "Hey, guys!" Jack says, sitting between them and taking out his food. He turns on the TV and smiles at them cheerfully. They both try to look as blank as possible. Aw, Jack. That one second was refreshing. Although I know that Kerr Smith directed this episode, so he was busy behind the camera. And he did a decent job, too. The close-up on Oliver's furious fists, pre-punch, was a little much, but other than that? Not bad at all.
So, Oliver has taken Joey to the ice-skating rink to get their minds off the fact that one of them is unemployed and the other is suffering an academic setback of apparently monstrous proportions. It's so clearly the Carolina Hurricanes rink, by the way. I can see their logo in center ice. Nice continuity, folks. I thought I left that kind of blatant fuck-up behind me when The X-Files ended. Anyway, they skate. It's very Cutting Edge, except not nearly as entertaining. Joey can't believe Pa Oliver got them into the rink! Oliver says they "have connections." Joey smiles. "The Irish Mafia! I knew it!" If only. That might be interesting. Oliver smiles. They skate around some more, and she tells him that he does possess "a certain masculine grace." Oliver grins. "I told you," he says. Joey smiles. Yes, again. And thanks him. "For this, for everything." He stops her and gazes down moonily. "It's my pleasure, Joey Potter," he says. They kiss. Oliver Hudson is so cute that that almost melted my cold, dead heart. Except for the part where my festering bitterness and deep-seated hatred has made me impervious to anything but the most negative emotions.