Episode Report Card Miss Alli: C- | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Making money hand over fisticuffs
By Miss Alli | Season 6 | Episode 20 | Aired on 04.22.2003
Back at Glass, Steel & Paneling, Pacey is taking off his phone headset. His secretary tells him that Dawson is on the phone, so Pacey, still eschewing the handset, puts Dawson on the speaker. I hate it when people put me on speakerphone for no reason. It's so hard to hear them, and I always wonder what else they're doing. And whether they're dressed. Which is stupid, because it's not like you need speakerphone to talk on the phone naked, but there you have it. Dawson, it turns out, is painting a room while he talks to Pacey. Why? I don't know. He and Pacey greet each other, and Dawson allows as how he's nervous about having all his money in "a stock market that can only be described as 'globally weak.'" Pacey encourages Dawson to "just trust [him]," and all will go well. "Have I ever let you down in the past?" he asks. Of course, it is part of the mythology of this show that Pacey has let Dawson and everyone else down many, many times, despite the fact that I literally cannot think of one time when that has ever happened, so of course Pacey immediately backtracks and says, "Don't answer that." ["Well, there's 'Promicide,' but that was really more of the writers using Pacey's inferiority complex as an excuse to actually make him a shitheel for an episode." -- Sars] Dawson chuckles generously. Because he is Generously Chuckling Dawson, King Of Forgiveness. He is available 24/7, and is prepared to forgive all your non-sins. Dawson tells Pacey that he thinks it might be "time to cash out," because he has to buy film. Pacey explains about Stock-O-Doom, and assures Dawson that it is his ticket to wealth, so there's no point in bailing out now. He encourages Dawson to ride it out for plot purposes. "You just trust me," he says, polishing his anvil, "and everything will be all right." Dawson agrees to put the movie on a bunch of credit cards, accuses Pacey of casting him in a David Mamet movie (okay, slightly funny), and then returns to the activity of watching paint dry, which is pretty much what the rest of us are doing, if you get my meaning. Oh, that conversation between Dawson and Pacey also features a distasteful and long-outdated Clerks reference, but I'd rather not go into it.
Commercials. Thank God.
Fade up on one of the many portions of Joey Potter's life that is covered in twinkle lights. This evening, she is telling Eddie all about her exam, and how obscure the necessary information turned out to be. He figures out that she knew all the answers and completely aced the test, and thus does another young lad fall victim to the passive-aggressive yet academically enhanced charms of our Miss Joey. She brags about her "complete and total mastery" of the material. She says she's ready to celebrate, and wants to know if the celebration will include anything other than standing around. In other words, she's pretty much sitting on her perch, preening her feathers and chanting "Polly-want-a-present." Eddie calls her on it, which motivates Joey to flash her occasional full-on periodontal grin. That is a very rectangular smile she has there. They banter unceasingly about her promised surprise, and he finally shuts her up by producing a red backpack, which she looks upon with disdain. "I wrapped it myself," he tells her. "Yeah, I can see that," she says with cool bafflement. He guesses that she doesn't like it, and she says that she does, maintaining that it's very cool of him to give him her backpack or whatever weird-ass maneuver this is supposed to be. He tells her that it's not his backpack -- he bought it for her, and she should look inside. "You probably should check," he says. "I should check?" she says. "Yeah, just in case there's an additional level of gift." Wow, that's some quality banter. Thanks so much, Tracy-Heartburn. She unzips the pack and pulls out a copy of Europe on $5 a Day. Years older than she was when the show started but still dumb as a bag of hammers, Joey looks at him blankly and says, "I don't get it." Wow. I once failed to recognize a guy sitting next to me for two hours at a party and then telling me he wanted to go take a walk as something I should respond to with something other than "Have a nice walk," and even I get it. Unsurprisingly, this all relates back to Joey's status as The One That Got Away, because Eddie has been motivated to take her to Europe by what I'm sure is her constant whiny harping that she could have gone to Paris once. You remember. Back in the day, before Dawson stuck his tongue down her throat and extracted her spine. Eddie wants them to go to Europe together for the summer and suck the marrow out of life, or whatever. She happily says yes. Wow, that was easy. It'll probably last, too. I would also note that it's a good thing airfare is apparently free, because if they're leaving in two days when they get kicked out of the dorm, I would almost think it wouldn't be paid for by the lint in Joey's pockets. Go figure. They hug. They mack. Shut up, Joey and your rectangular smile.
Little David arrives at Hell's Kitchen, where he peeks in the window to see Jack sitting at a table, talking to a guy. Of course, this is a huge deal, because we all know that a gay guy would never be talking to another guy unless he was hitting on him, so David knows immediately that something is seriously amiss. Amiss, I tell you! He unhappily walks in and approaches Jack's table just as the other guy gives Jack a hetero pat and walks off. Jack pours himself another beer, oblivious to Little David's approach or the impending drama. Enter Little David, who sits down opposite Jack. "Thanks for coming," says a happy Jack. Little David asks if Jack's been waiting long. You know, nothing says "I really care" like a passive-aggressive ambush. Jack says that he actually was just talking to a guy who's in one of his classes. "I saw," Little David says sadly, which launches Jack into another it's-totally-innocent routine that he really shouldn't feel obligated to deliver, in my personal opinion. Little David takes that insistence as a tacit omission that the "thing the other night" where Jack also talked to another person was not innocent -- like, whatever, Little David. Why are they turning everyone into an asshole simultaneously? Jack looks stricken, and asks if Little David has already decided not to give him a chance. Jack asks if Little David is convinced he's the bad guy, and Little David nods and says, "Yeah." Prick. Little David accuses Jack of leading him on by pretending to be a vampire, and then he makes some really, really lame Interview With The Vampire jokes, and then he breaks up with Jack. I'm not sure which is more notable about this breakup -- the bad dialogue or the unbelievable situation. But it all goes under "horrendous writing," so I suppose whomever is responsible won't mind the lack of specificity. Jack protests that he didn't want it to end this way and so forth, but Little David cannot be dissuaded. He's sure that Jack is trying to "prove something" about himself by acting like he wants a relationship with Little David when he actually doesn't. Honestly, I cannot figure this out. This whole storyline has become as disjointed as a Brazilian contortionist on Sabado Gigante. They break up, I guess. Jack looks constipated, and then Kerr Smith holds up his hand to reveal a tattoo that says "I [heart] chicks." Okay, he doesn't. "Have a good summer, Jack," Little David sadly commands.