On our last episode: Trista Rehn cut her stable of eligible bachelors from fifteen to seven, Jack Bauer barely escaped getting his head blown off by that crazy traitor Nina, and Sydney and Vaughn gazed at each other moonily and then shot a bunch of guys. Oh, wait. Those are totally different shows. On the last episode of Dawson's Creek: Jack hooked up with Tiny Gay Elfin David (TGED), who appears to be entirely too good for him; Stupid Boring Natasha broke up with Stupid Boring Dawson; Harley Flip-Flops (allegedly adorable moppet daughter of Joey's nemesis, Professor Flip-Flops) told Joey not to screw up her relationship with Oliver; Jen told Blandy Blands that if she decided to become a peer counselor, she'd be a hell of a lot better at it than he is; Pacey sort of started flirting with Emma and also continued, against all odds, to avoid being fired even though his behavior at the office is abhorrent; and Audrey got liquored up and drove Pacey's car into Dawson's house.
We open on the set of Kangaroo Jack II: This Time, It's Personal, where Todd announces that they've completed principal photography on what is surely the worst horror movie ever made. Well, he spares us the editorializing. We cut to a title card, reading simply "Monday." Remember that: it's Monday. They've just wrapped principal photography. Which means that the second unit probably has some shooting left, and Todd's got weeks of editing ahead of him before the movie is actually finished. Not to mention color correction, sound work, music, looping, credits and titles, et cetera. Post-production is a long process. And it's Monday. Make a note, because I'm going to make a big, bratty deal of it later. The cast and crew applaud enthusiastically, although Natasha pouts as she does so. I feel like this Natasha plot has dragged on about two episodes too long. I don't care about her at all anymore, beyond wishing that someone would drop something heavy on her head. Todd waves his bottle of champagne around and thanks the cast and crew for all their hard work over the past few months, then steps down into the crowd to shake some hands and pat some backs. Dawson looks around the set and beams. Natasha sidles over, looking crabby, and sarcastically compliments him on Todd's speech. Dawson opens his mouth to protest, but she cuts him off, telling him that Todd's warm and fuzzy commentary has Dawson "written all over it." Dawson makes a face as Natasha says the speech was nice, if bittersweet. "Or is it just bitter?" she snaps. "Well, that's what wrap parties are all about," Dawson non-answers awkwardly. In my experience, wrap parties are all about alcohol, but whatever. Natasha announces that Tag got her a gig in the new Spielberg movie. "It's only two days work, but who knows? It could lead to bigger things," she says. Dawson smiles at her. "Knowing you, Natasha, I'm sure it will." Natasha takes this as a dig, of course, but Dawson tells her that "not everyone in the planet is acting every second of their lives." Natasha shrugs that "everyone in Hollywood is [lying]." She hugs him and wishes him luck. "I've got a feeling about you," she says. "What's that?" Dawson asks. "That you're going to need it." Oh, burn! Not. Dawson makes a sour face as Natasha stomps off. He shakes his head. Above him, a tech turns off a klieg light…and we go to the credits.
Tuesday. Liberty Hell's Kitchen, where Joey is cooing into her cell phone, leaving a message for Oliver. Now, I'm the queen of leaving overly long, chatty, disjointed messages, but at least I don't do it in a Joey Potter-style baby voice. She twitters that she's back in town and she wasn't going to call Oliver because he hadn't called her yet and she's got her pride and she hasn't talked to him since Christmas, which wasn't really that awful, "on a Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf scale," and he should give her a call when he gets a chance, or whatever, because she'll be there, just sitting around staring at the phone and waiting for him to call because she's nothing without some boy hanging around and telling her that she's the only thing keeping him from jumping into a combine. Joey hangs up and looks thoughtful. I have to say, as much as I love both my cell phone and my cordless phone, the advent of cordless telephonic communications has made dramatically hanging up on someone much less effective. Like, you can only punch the "off" button so violently. Anyway, Joey strolls through the bar and past the pool tables, where she overhears a girl yelping that plenty of people think she's sixteen, but she's "totally eighteen." Joey looks over and sees Harley Flip-Flops, sassy daughter of Professor Flip-Flops, a character clearly designed to be some kind of Joey Potter Mini-Me, and who does so only in the sense that she annoys me almost as much as Joey does. Joey grabs Harley by the elbow and drags her off, telling the boys that she's actually fifteen. Harley looks aggrieved as Joey wonders what she's doing there, since vacation "for the Britney and Christina set" is surely over. I don't know that Christina "Assless Chaps" Aguliera and Britney "Shut Up, I Sort Of Like Her" Spears are really all the rage with the teens anymore, but whatever. Harley explains that they are: she's living with Flip-Flops permanently now. "So, where's [Oliver]?" Harley asks. "He's the only nice person that I know in Boston, and he still owes me a root beer float." Joey chuckles to herself over the idea that Flip-Flops now has a bratty teenager living in the house with him, constantly torturing him. She asks Harley why she's not in school, in that case. Harley says she'll spill, if Joey will tell her what happened to Oliver. Joey nods, and Harley explains that she was on a field trip, and she ditched. Joey looks appalled. Yes, but can someone please do something about her roots? They look awful. Surely Katie Holmes has a case of Garnier Lumia in her trailer somewhere. Harley exposits that her mother is "doing research" in Bangladesh and she, Harley, is miserable. Joey rolls her eyes and tells Harley not to be so dramatic. "Right. Like you'd know what it was like to have your life ruined!" Harley huffs. Joey, bless her, doesn't get into the whole Dead Mother/Jailbird Father rigmarole, but just tells her that Oliver isn't there. And she doesn't exactly know where he is. "I can't believe you messed it up with him. He was amazing. Beyond amazing!" Harley sensitively opines. Joey mutters that she'll get Harley her goddamned root beer float, and then Harley has to go back to school. "I don't care how miserable it is. That's life. Life is miserable."
Cut to The Boston Fishtastic Undersea Exploratorium, or whatever the aquarium in Boston is actually called. Pacey, in his stockbroker costume and sporting the world's most ridiculously poofy hair, stands in front of a large tank and looks around cheerfully. Seriously, what is up with his hair? He looks absurd. I'm concerned that, one night, Joshua Jackson's pompadour is going to come alive and, in some sort of horrible coiffure-related Little Shop of Horrors type of scenario, try to strangle him in his sleep. Cut. It. Off, Josh. Anyway, Pacey looks around and spies Emma, sitting near a large tank and drawing. Megan Gray looks about forty-five, thanks to the lighting in this scene. She's a lovely girl, but the powers that be appear to be doing their best to ugly her up, with the silly wig and now this horrible lighting. So, Pacey says hello, not noticing that Emma has headphones on, and startles her. Now, when someone startles me, my reaction is generally along the lines of "[Loud squeal!] Holy crap! You scared the shit out of me!" Emma's, however, is a very low-key, irritable "oh, bloody hell." It sounds like the reaction someone would have upon discovering that she's gotten a spot of ketchup on the cuff of her favorite cardigan. Pacey apologizes for scaring her, and Emma explains that she just didn't expect to see a stockbroker in the aquarium. Which doesn't really make sense: she didn't expect to see him because he's supposed to be at work in general, not because he's a stockbroker specifically. It's not like stockbrokers are famous for, like, hating marine life or something. She's not running into a vampire in a cathedral. He sits; they banter. Emma wonders what Pacey is doing at the aquarium. He explains that his office is near there -- which she ought to know, since she's been there and all, but whatever -- and he likes to look at the fishies during his lunch hour. Long story short: this scene is utterly pointless. Basically, Emma thinks that Pacey isn't cut out for the evil, structured corporate life, but she doesn't have the balls to come out and actually say so, so instead she makes snarky comments about not wanting to be seen with him in his Corporate Ken Doll ensemble and he better get back to the office because it's almost one o'clock and blah blah blah. Could someone please explain to me why Pacey and Emma's relationship is supposed to be interesting? Or, if there is no explanation for that, why he never interacts w
ith anyone else on this show anymore? I understand that it's not realistic for high school friends to see one another as much after graduation as they did during high school, but this show is rooted in the relationships between Pacey, Joey, Dawson, and Jen -- and, to a certain extent, Jack -- and to take each of them and place them in their own self-contained plot line takes the teeth out of the show.
Over at The Blind Leading The Blind Teen Help Line, Jen is on the phone. "Of course it sucks, that's why they call it life," she says, and continues in this same morose vein until Blandy stops her, explaining that a lot of people call the help line at this time of year, and he's pretty sure that they're not calling to talk to Kierkegaard. Jen just looks at him and puts down the phone. "But you said he was a philosophy major," she whines. Blandy sighs that he doesn't want to fight: "I get annoyed, you get defensive. Let's move onto the one." Jen looks down at the table. "Let's not. I quit," she says. Blandy yelps that she can't quit -- and I agree, because, like, how wussy is that? "It's your first day of training! It's your first hour!" he says. Jen moans that she can't take the training if it's going to consist of him patronizing her. Blandly rather calmly points out that he's been doing this for years, and hence he knows what he's doing. Jen retorts that she can't wait to see his expertise come into play when they come across a hypothetical situation involving casual sex and two blonde girls. Cue the uncomfortable silence. After a moment, Blandly simply suggests that they stop for the day. He stands and gathers his things and finally tells her to come back. "Or don't come back. But whatever you decide, you should make it about you. Not me," he says. Jen just looks at her lap and thanks God that at least her hair looks good.
Boston Bay College Infirmary. Or Boston General Hospital. Or, you know, whatever. A hospital. Jack waits in chairs. Eventually, TGED comes out of a back room, a small piece of paper in his hand. "Damn," TGED says under his breath. Jack looks stricken. "What?" he asks. "Oh, there're no good magazines to read," TGED explains. "That's it?" Jack asks. "You're not at all nervous about this?" TGED shrugs and explains that he's done it a million times. "Give or take. Let's face it, I'd be a pretty hypocritical peer counselor if I didn't practice what I preach." Of course, they're not being specific at all, but I'm just going to assume that the boys are getting tested for STDs prior to the sure-to-be-upcoming episode in which they have all the Hot Gay Sex. And I could make a comment about the fact that it's interesting that the only characters who even think to get tested for anything are the gay ones, but I'm just going to decide that this is because Jack and TGED are the most mature and intelligent couple on this show, not because the writers think that the only people who need to worry about sexually transmitted diseases are gay. TGED explains that all of this is no big deal. "The only embarrassing part is when they ask what kind of high-risk behavior you've engaged in the last three to six months and the only thing I can come up with is eating carbs after nine PM and jaywalking," he says. Jack nervously chuckles and shakes his head. A nurse calls his name, and he looks at TGED, who pats him supportively. "It's fine," he says.
Cut to The Anonymous Film Studio, where Todd and Dawson are getting notes from Executive Whitney From Bring It On and a studio executive, played by Paul Gleason of The Breakfast Club fame. Paul Gleason is reading from blue audience response cards as Todd and Dawson listen and make sad faces. "Blindingly dull. Achingly dull. Mind-numbingly dull," Paul reads, and then drops the audience response cards in front of Todd. Has someone been reading the recaps? Todd asks what those little cards prove, "other than the fact that [the studio has] been previewing the thing all along?" Erm. Okay. Get a snack, dear readers, because this is going to be a long rant. First off: "previewing this thing all along"? No studio previews a film "all along." Not for the public, anyway. That's simply absurd. Because it's not like these things are shot in a linear fashion, anyway. There would be nothing to show the public that would make any sort of sense until after the film had been edited. And how would they "preview [it] all along"? Do they show bits and pieces of the movie to the same group of schmoes every week? That would be a total exercise in futility, not to mention a very expensive waste of the studio's time. Second: it's STILL TUESDAY. Which means that principle photography ended YESTERDAY. Which means that in order to make this particular screening -- which, it is implied in the following discussion of the changes that need to be made in the movie, was of the completed film -- they completed the second unit photography and edited the film (and that's at the very least, by the way. I'm assuming that this screening took place before they finished the color and sound correction, or completed the music and titles and credits) and then screened it AGAIN in LESS THAN 24 HOURS? That's absurd. It's absurd, and it's insulting to the viewer. Like, I don't know who had the hard-on for the little Days Of The Week structural conceit they're using in this episode, but it's doing nothing but fucking with the timeline. It doesn't add anything to the episode and serves only to make the writers look as though they haven't thought this episode through at all. Which probably isn't entirely true -- it's definitely possible that this Days Of The Week thing worked at one point, but didn't really make it through editing and revisions -- but it certainly looks that way, and someone should have made the call and taken it out.
Phew. Anyway. Where was I? Paul Gleason says that these cards prove they need reshoots. Whitney smirks in the background. "More sex, more violence, maybe a little twist in the plot that's not predictable from the very first frame," Paul says. "I mean, obviously, the goal here is to try to make this damn thing watchable." Paul Gleason and I are soulmates, y'all! At this, naturally, Todd gets all worked up and whips out his cigarettes, yelping that if he's going to sit here and take criticism "from every Tom, Dick and Harry in Tarzana who didn't have anything else better to do on a Wednesday night," then he needs to have a cigarette. I'll leave out the part where they'd never let you smoke inside an office building in Los Angeles and point out that if they screened the movie -- in its completed format as implied -- on Wednesday, and it's still Tuesday, then apparently everyone in Los Angeles but me has the ability to GO BACKWARD IN TIME. Because no one screens unfinished movies for the general public! They'll show a teaser, sure. And I can see showing bits and pieces of a highly anticipated film to an industry crowd. But a test screening to the general public, before the director is even finished shooting? Is not going to happen. And the thing is, I know that the writers know that. This is their area of expertise. It's not like they're making mistakes in, like, nuclear physics. As a writer myself, I'm actually beginning to feel bad about my constant bad-mouthing of the Dawson's Creek writers. I simply can't believe that none of them pointed out that this storyline is completely impossible. I don't know what's going on over there, but I'm waiting for the Dawson's Creek E! True Hollywood Story, because someone is letting lazy mistakes in plotting and characterization slip through left and right, and I can't imagine that it's entirely the fault of the writing staff. And they could have fixed it by simply dropping the title cards and by putting the big "Todd's and Dawson's Movie Wraps" scene in a episode. I'd give them artistic license on the post-production timeline if, at the very least, they'd have pretended that some time had passed between wrap and the screening!
So. Back at the studio. As Todd demands a light for his cigarette, Dawson slips his phone into Todd's pocket and goes out into the hall to fetch said light. However, instead of tracking down a pack of matches, he calls Todd from a phone in the hallway. Dawson stares into the window into the conference room, phone in hand, and implores Todd to pick up. Um, Dawson? Paul Gleason is looking right at you. Finally, Todd picks up the phone, and Dawson commands him to meet him in the hall.
Which he does. Dawson informs Todd that he's digging himself a hole "bigger than the La Brea Tar Pits." Cue some yelling from Todd. Yelling. Yelling. Homoerotic yelling. Todd yelps that they are in charge! They make the calls! Dawson wisely points out that, while Todd would like to think that, the studio holds the purse strings. And Todd needs to go back in there and agree to reshoots. Then Dawson waxes poetic about the beauty of the filmmaking process for, like, twenty minutes and I just tune out.
Back inside the conference room, Paul Gleason tells Todd that the film needs a new ending. "Something that's watchable. Or, at the least, something that makes sense." Paul Gleason IS my soulmate! At this, Todd flies off the hook, leaping up from the table and yelping sarcastically that he can see where Paul Gleason is coming from. "I can see where you and other people like yourself, people of lesser intelligence, might be a bit confused by my movie. And I can see how you actually don't have any ideas of your own on how to improve it, because, after all, you're not actually in the business of having ideas, are you? Oh, that's right. You think you are. Well, you're not. You're in the business of criticizing other people's ideas." Awww, they ARE reading the recaps! Hi, writers! Good work with Todd. He's a peach. And he and Dawson are a really cute couple. Seriously. Anyway, Todd announces -- with great indignant flair -- that he will not direct the reshoots, and he stomps off in an enormous huff.
Wednesday. Joey sits in Flip-Flops's class. What the hell? She hates him. Why would she take another one of his classes? Other than the fact that he's under contract to appear in a certain number of episodes. Anyway, he makes some smarmy comments about Norman Mailer and dismisses class, and because she's a glutton for punishment, Joey saunters up to talk to him. "Oh, that can't be Joey Potter! Guess one D isn't enough to get anyone thrown out of Worthington anymore," Flip-Flops snarks. But…isn't he her advisor? Shouldn't he know that she's in his class? Isn't someone supposed to be keeping track of this? Other than me, I mean. Flip-Flops tells Joey that "no matter how many times [she asks]," it simply isn't possible for her to drop his class without "forfeiting [her] credits from the semester." Well…whatever. Nice try. That doesn't even make any sense -- like, is this a series of classes? Because I'm pretty sure that whatever happens in the second semester shouldn't have anything to do with credits for a previously completed course, unless, of course, Joey is retaking the class so as to replace the D on her record…let's just decide that's what's going on, because I have enough logistical concerns about Dawson's plot. I have no time for Joey's inconsistent storyline. Joey, by the way, is wearing yet another new coat. I guess waitressing is really paying off for her. Anyhoo, Joey tells Flip-Flops all about Harley's shenanigans, explaining that she thought he might like to know what his daughter is up to. This leads to Flip-Flops getting all defensive about his fathering skills. He proposes a deal: "You stay out of my life and I'll do my very best to stay out of yours." Joey gets all snippy, naturally, and tells him that she was a fool to think this was about "anything other than his gigantic male ego" and storms off. I just love Flip-Flops's acting here. He really puts the skills he honed on daytime television to good use. And don't get me wrong: I adore daytime television. Passions is one of my favorite shows ever, and if I could write for a soap, I'd be happier than a pig in slop. Anyway, Flip-Flops Gazes Meaningfully Off Into the Distance, Thinking About His Issues And Wondering If He'll Ever Get to Experience True Love Again, Now That His One And Only Is Married To His Brother, Who Really Ought To Drop Dead From His Brain Fog Any Day Now. Oh, wait. That's a totally different show. Instead, he just looks constipated.
Emma. Pacey. Fish. Blah blah childhood, blah blah fake British accent, blah blah blah blah blah blah. Pacey tells Emma that the aquarium is "a window into the person [he] used to be," explaining that he didn't used to be Carl Corporate. Emma tells him to prove it, and dares him to blow off the rest of the afternoon. Pacey tells her that he'll get fired. Girl, please. If Bobby Briggs hasn't fired you for trying to beat him up and totally sassing him at every occasion, taking an afternoon off won't do it. "Like that'd be such a bloody tragedy," Emma drawls. Well, it will be when he can't kick in his share of the rent, pet. She hands him a cell phone and directs him to call in sick. Pacey smiles at her and dials, practicing his phony cough. Emma nods proudly.
Over at the Help! I Need Somebody! Help! Not Just Anybody! Teen Help Line, Jen sits at a desk and talks about unprotected sex. To a caller, I mean. She impresses upon said caller that it's very important for someone who's had "unprotected sex with seventeen women over the last three months" to get tested. "For you, and for the health of all the hot women you've been sleeping with," she finishes, shooting TGED a dirty look over her shoulder. TGED snickers and hangs up the phone. "What?" he asks. "I've nailed many a hot girl in my day." Jen grins, and Blandy, perched on her desk, nods. "I believe you," Blandy monotones. TGED huffs that he can't believe they're criticizing his acting when he's just trying to help. Jen announces that TGED could never be straight. "Your heart is too big and so is your brain," she says. TGED snorts, amused. "She's hostile!" he tells Blandy. Um, yeah. She is. In sort of an unattractive way. Blandy didn't like you, Jen. Either get over it or wallow in it away from him. But don't go get a job working at his pet project and spend the entire time punishing him for having sex with someone other than you. Jen admits that she has some anger, but that she's just "expressing [her] emotions." Enter Jack to fetch TGED, who asks Blandy and Jen if they can get along without his help for a while. Jack raises his brows and asks Jen in a humorous baby voice if she's monopolizing TGED's time simply because she can't manage to get along with Blandy. Jen whines that Jack ought to be able to loan her his boyfriend for one measly hour. At the infamous B-word, Jack and TGED exchange a look. "Is he your boyfriend? Have you guys kissed yet? Did I miss all of this over Christmas vacation?" Jen asks, as TGED and Jack look all uncomfortable. "Charming," Jack drawls. Okay, but wait. That's a good question. Because going and getting tested for everything with someone before you've even kissed him is…maybe putting the cart before the horse. Not like I'm anti-sexual health or anything, but…dude. Mack freely, fictional characters! It just seems to me that The We Should Be Tested For STDs Conversation realistically generally happens after the kissing has started but before the sex has begun. However, they don't really answer the question, so maybe they've been making out all along. Let's just decide that they have been, okay? ["And that those scenes got cut because Kerr Smith refused to shoot them." -- Sars] Blandy gives Jen a dirty look. "Why are you looking at me?" she asks. "Hostile," he mutters, and then walks off. Jen sighs. Well, she is!
Hollywood. The studio executives, led by Whitney, ask Dawson to direct the reshoots. That's all I can say about that scene without having an aneurysm. The director's assistant -- the guy who gets coffee -- is directing the reshoots. Not that director's assistants all over the world aren't delightful people, but there's no studio executive in the world who would let one of them direct reshoots. Ever. And if I think about this for one more moment, my head finally will actually explode, as it has so often threatened.
Thursday marks the return of Jack Osbourne. See, he and Audrey are all hanging out and partying at the beach. They've been partying. Partying! They don't even know what day it is! Because they like to party! Yeah! Par-tay! They're, like, rock stars! Jack wonders if Audrey's friend is coming to pick them up, or what? He suggests taking a cab home, but Audrey reminds him that they have no cash. She's broke, she tells him. Jack snorts that Audrey must be paying way too much money for her drugs. "Contrary to popular belief, I am not on drugs," Audrey protests too much. Jack rolls his eyes. "Yeah, right," he says. "You know, I hate to be judgmental like your weird college friends, but just don't rip my lungs out when you get some bad PCP." Audrey shushes him; Dawson is there to pick up their sorry asses. She promises Jack that she'll sit on his lap all the way home if he keeps his mouth shut about the drugs. Jack agrees, and goes to wait in the car. "Hey, Jack," Dawson offers offhandedly. "Hey," Jack says. Hee. For some reason, that moment really amused me. I don't know. "You came," Audrey tells him. "You called," Dawson retorts. I just thought of this: are they going to hook up at some point? Because -- and I can't believe I'm actually about to say this -- I think Dawson is too good for Audrey. I know. Please don't fire me, Sars. ["Between the assassination they've carried out on Audrey's character and the rehabilitation they've performed on Dawson's, I have to agree with you. What's the world coming to?" -- Sars] Anyhoo, Dawson and Audrey trudge across the sand and chat, Audrey explaining that she and Jack met these guys in a parking lot on Sunset and, you know, yadda yadda yadda, they ended up at this weird party. And she realized that he was probably the only person she knew in Los Angeles who would pick her up and who was actually already awake. Dawson gets her to admit that her parents don't even know school is back in session. Audrey tells him that she's not ready to go back and "face the Grand Tribunal of Judgement." But she promises that she's going to be in good form from now on. "So don't be madder than you already are," she pleads. Dawson just looks concerned and wonders if she's aware of how dumb it is to get into a car full of strangers. Audrey says nothing.
Back in Boston, Joey calls the still AWOL Oliver, getting his voicemail. She's pretty concerned and leaves a slightly panicked message, saying that "it's not like him" not to call her back. Because what if something happened to him and she wouldn't know because no one would tell her because she's not important enough for anyone to tell her if something horrible happened to him but even though she knows that she's really not an important person or even deserving of love at all because, after all, look at all the people who've left her, it's like, everyone, in spite of all that, she'd really like him to call her back as soon as humanly possible. Please! She hangs up the phone and looks thoughtful, then walks over to sit with Jack and TGED, who are having burgers and soda in a cozy corner of Liberty Hell's Kitchen. She buries her head in her hands. "Any luck this time?" Jack asks. "When have I ever been lucky with men?" Joey groans. Jack and TGED exchange looks and fall over each other to tell her that Oliver will absolutely call her back. Joey stares at the floor, and the boys give each other a look that clearly says, "He is so never going to call her." Joey asks plaintively if they can pay the check so she can go home, and the boys ante up and hand her the cash. "Keep the change," Jack says, and shoots TGED another look as she walks away. TGED raises his brows and says that there's nothing more depressing than watching someone wait for a call they're never going to get. Jack disagrees. "There's orphans. Sick orphans," he says, then points out that maybe Oliver will call after all. TGED asks how many people Jack has hooked up with and then "ruthlessly never called." Jack looks guilty. "A few," he says, then admits that he "went out a lot this summer" and he didn't call a few of the guys back. Yes, the glorious summer! When Jack can have sex and Kerr Smith doesn't have to kiss any boys! TGED nods as Jack says that sometimes, you think you're going to like someone… "And after closer examination, you don't?" TGED finishes. Jack nods. "But only after closer examination?" TGED asks. I think "closer examination" is a euphemism for "hot gay sex." Jack looks at him carefully. "Am I getting some kind of lecture here, or what?" he asks. "Do you want one?" TGED asks calmly. Jack takes a bite from his burger and announces that he really does not. "Fine," TGED says. "Fine," Jack parrots. They sip their sodas in irritated silence. Oh, Jack! TGED is so cute and mature and charming and funny! Please don't screw this one up!
Liberty Hell's Kitchen. Joey's leaving the bar for the evening. On her way out, she spies Harley back at the pool table. She stomps over there and reminds Harley that they just played this scene out "two days ago." She drags the poor kid out by the ear.
World O' Fish. Endless shots of fish. So much filler. So many fish. It appears that Pacey is ditching work to hang out with Emma yet again. I find their entire interaction to be -- let's see, what was it? Mind-numbingly dull? That'll do. Basically, Emma is trying to talk Stockbroker Pacey into transforming himself back into Old, Hawaiian Shirt-Wearing Pacey. And, for the record, I'm totally in favor of that particular switcheroo. I love Old Pacey. I miss Old Pacey. But I wish that The Road Back To Old Pacey wasn't so bloody boring. Anyway, after much caterwauling in her fake accent, Emma challenges Pacey to blow off work yet again and meet her tomorrow at one o'clock, in his Hawaiian shirt.
Help Me Rhonda Helpline. Have I mentioned that I preferred this storyline when Brenda Walsh was living it? Anyway, Blandy listens as Jen works her first real call. Who promptly hangs up on her. Blandy assures Jen that someone probably walked in on the caller and freaked her out, because Jen was doing fine. Jen yammers that she must have done something wrong. Mid-yammer, the phone rings. Blandy tells her to answer it, but Jen freaks that she's going to fuck up. Finally, Blandy picks up the phone and takes over, telling the caller -- for it is the person who hung up on Jen -- that Jen's no longer available. Jen looks miserable. Blandly tells the caller that Jen is "a little high-strung" Jen looks stung, but Jen? You are enormously high-strung. But at least your hair finally looks pretty. Jen watches closely as Blandy finishes the call with panache. "What?" he asks her. She shakes her head. "Nothing," she says, but inside, she's screaming, "I love you and your easy facility with the troubled youth of Boston!"
Elsewhere in the nitty-gritty city, Joey drags Harley all the way to Oliver's apartment, explaining that the boy hasn't called her back. "And when a girl leaves a slew of messages for a boy she thought was her boyfriend --" she grouses. Harley interrupts to yelp that Joey must have slept with Oliver. "What did you say?" Joey asks, as if Harley had just called her a lying, whoring slaghole. "You slept with him. You know, had sex," Harley says. The soundtrack twangs comically, as Joey recovers and says that she forgot what a woman of the world Harley is. "You're probably not even a virgin," Joey teases. "Probably lost it years ago, to a trucker named Bubba." Hey, Continuity! Come on in, take a -- hey, come back here! "I don't get it," Harley tells her. "You're not supposed to," Joey tells her. Someone leaves the building, and the girls sneak inside.
Upstairs, Harley wonders if she can't talk about sex just because she's fifteen. "No, you can talk about it," Joey tells her. "Then, when you're nineteen, you can have the unadulterated joy of looking back and realizing what an idiot you sounded like." Heh. Well played, writers. Well played. Joey raps on Oliver's door. Nothing doing. She tries it, and finds it open. And the place is totally empty. Harley yammers on and on about how Joey is a big old stalker and she should try skulking around in the bushes with a mask on. Finally, she realizes that Joey's pretty upset. Katie Holmes has only been, like, sobbing and dry-heaving in the corner for twenty minutes. Harley sputters that she thought this was the wrong apartment. Joey mouth-breathes for fifteen more minutes as Harley makes a sympathetic face in the background.
Friday. At last! Pacey has come in to the office in a particularly hiddy Hawaiian top. He's trying to go to lunch when Bobby Briggs, Capitalist Pigg, loads him down with a pile of extra work. Pacey protests, but Bobby Briggs doesn't care. So Pacey just buckles down and does it. Welcome to the real world, Pacey. Your job makes you want to slice your jugular open with a paper clip? Quit. But you can't have it both ways. Bobby Briggs then gives Pacey his W-2 form, conveniently reminding those of us in the studio audience that Pacey Is Selling Out and that Loving Money Is Wrong. And then he tells Pacey that he expects to see a big change in Pacey's attitude, but quick.
While Pacey kisses and strokes his W-2 at the office, Emma sleeps with the fishes. Okay, she's sitting with them. But did you think I wasn't going to use that line? She looks up hopefully when she spies a doofy-looking guy in Pacey's old hair and wardrobe. Her face falls when she realizes that it's merely Joshua Jackson's stand-in. Pacey has stood her up. And for what? The demon dollar! Seriously, I don't get this show's attitude about money. There's nothing wrong with relishing the ability to pay your bills.
Help Me Learn To Live Without You Help Line, where Jen and Blandy are waiting for the phone to ring. Blandy explains that it gets quiet sometimes, because it's tough for people to get up the urge to call, to admit that they're wrong about something. Jen just looks at him and seems about to say something, but he gets up and announces that he's going across the street to fetch some coffee. Jen is stunned that he's leaving her alone. Yes. No. Yes. No. Yesnoyesnoyes. Blandy finally tells Jen that he thinks she can handle the phones for ten minutes. "A few days ago, you couldn't stand to be in the same room with me. Now you don't want me to go," Blandy says, with a -- all right, I'll admit it -- charming lift of his brow. Jen points out that this was a week ago. "Can't a person change in a week?" she asks. Blandy grins wryly. "I don't know. Can she?" he asks. Jen laughs in spite of herself as he trots out to fetch some caffeine. Okay, okay: I get it. He's sort of cute. His hair is still too greasy for me, and I kind of feel like his face is overly flat, but…yeah, he's cute. Fine! He's cute! UNCLE!
Blandy's getting coffee across the street. He turns and looks into the window of The Help Is On The Way Helpful Helpline just in time to see Jen pick up the phone and handle a call all by herself. He smiles.
Over at -- oh, hell, let's call it Student Health -- Jack comes out of an examination room and takes a seat to TGED. "So, you going to tell me or what?" TGED asks. "Nothing to tell," Jack grins. TGED smiles brightly and says he knew Jack would be fine. Jack looks at his shoes and wonders if TGED feels differently about him, now that he knows he's a big old skank. TGED shrugs that he knew Jack was way sluttier than he was from the get-go. "I mean, you're ridiculously good-looking," he says. Aw, TGED, you are so cute. Jack grins. "I mean, you're no Viggo…" TGED offers, trailing off. If ONLY! If Viggo played the role of Jack, I would recap this show for free! Finally, Jack stands up and announces that he's ready to go. This isn't the place to be having this particular conversation, apparently. TGED stands up, too, but keeps yammering about Jack. So Jack leans in and kisses him. TGED looks so surprised that I have to think this is the first time they've kissed. Which…whatever. At least we're getting The Annual Gay Kiss, even if it was remarkably passionless. Seriously, when I was twelve I kissed the Tom Cruise poster over my bed with more passion than Jack just put into that smooch. But considering the fact that last year was Annual Gay Kiss-Free, I guess I shouldn't complain. But does that mean that we get two Gay Kisses this year? Wow, I just got really got caught up in that, didn't I? Where were we? "Shut up," Jack says with a smile. "Yeah, I think I can do that," TGED says. They walk off with Jack's hand on TGED's shoulder.
Flip-Flops's class. He's droning on about Barthes, and then the writers let Joey say something both smart and Reflective Of What's Happening In Her Real Life, which impresses Flip-Flops, who promptly dismisses class and asks her to stay. He hands her fifty bucks, explaining that it's payment for keeping an eye on Harley. Apparently, Harley told Flip-Flops that Joey helped her through a crisis. Joey makes a That Kid's All Right face, as Flip-Flops asks Joey to watch Harley on a regular basis. Harley needs her help, he says. "Her mother's gone and her father's…" he trails off. "A gigantic scuzzbucket?" Joey chirps. Flip-Flops rolls his eyes and asks if they have a deal. She bargains him up to sixty-five bucks a week, and tells him he has a babysitter. That scene did not make me want to commit suicide, so…nice job.
California. Dawson races across the beach and into Todd's arms as the sun sets behind them. You know, more or less. They stand on the sand as the sun sets and gaze moonily into each other's eyes. Todd is all wet and glistening, holding his surfboard. Dawson apologizes. "What, for stealing my job?" Todd asks, and explains that Paul Gleason called him and they talked the whole thing out. And Dawson's the man. He's directing the reshoots. Period. Todd orders Dawson to benefit from being the right place at the right time, and grins up at him like a lovesick fool. Which, clearly, he is. Dawson bats his lashes and confesses that Todd is -- despite being "barely functional" --- like, totally his mentor! Todd is touched, and wonders how he managed to unseat Steven Spielberg. Dawson grins and says that Spielberg never returns his calls. Todd chuckles, and tells Dawson that he has to do one thing when he gets to the set: he must remember to take a picture of the look on Natasha's face when she meets her new director. Dawson chuckles as Todd heaves his surfboard onto his shoulder. "Come on," he says, and walks off into the sunset, Dawson skipping after him happily. Aww. They are seriously the cutest couple on the entire show.