Dexter TV Show - Living the Dream - Dexter Recaps, Dexter Reviews, Dexter Episodes | TWoP

Aired 2009-09-27

Previously on Dexter, our titular murderous hero married Rita, but not before he knocked her up. He fretted for a whole season about how he could possibly be a father, but ultimately he got cool with it. He also befriended Miguel Prado, learned they both enjoyed killing people, learned Miguel enjoyed it a bit TOO much, and killed Miguel. Deb started dating her informant, then learned from Dex that their dad wasn't always faithful to their mom, and since Deb has both daddy issues and can't-leave-shit-alone issues, she decided to dig into it. All in all, a hell of a lot better than all that crap with the crazy rehab girlfriend.

To kick things off in Season 4, we get juxtaposed scenes of Dexter, driving at night, flashing some intense eyeballs and voice-overing about "tonight's the night" and intense primal needs, interspersed with scenes of a naked John Lithgow (and yes, let's all get it out of our systems right now, because it looks like it'll be happening a lot) preparing a bath and laying extra towels around the tub. This being Dexter, I trust we can dispose of the pretense that this might not be anything but purely foreboding.

Turns out Dexter's ominous talk of primal needs is referring to the primal need of a good night's sleep. He pulls the car over, opens the back door, and sees baby Harrison, still awake. Seems the midnight ride hasn't made the kid any sleepier, much to Dexter's chagrin. Naked Lithgow, however, is not up to anything so innocuous. A young brunette closes her medicine cabinet to find Lithgow standing behind her in the mirror. He grabs her in a choke-hold, and thing we know, they're both naked and submerged in the tub, her back to his front, his forearm still across her throat. He keeps trying to shush her, coaxing her to fall asleep. On its own, it's a horrifying image of perverse paternalism. Juxtaposed with daddy Dexter trying to get his kid to sleep, it's even creepier. The woman passed out, Lithgow reaches for his straight razor and slices it across her upper thigh. That gets her struggling again, but with the femoral artery gushing blood into the water, it's futile. Lithgow then grabs a hand mirror so he can see her face as she dies. Sick, sick stuff.

So, you know: Good morning, Miami! In a cute bit, the opening credits music starts, and that familiar mosquito starts sucking on Dexter's arm. Only this time, his swat misses. Dex is clearly off his game. The faux credits sequence continues: he pulls the t-shirt over his face, a scene that is disturbingly appealing in the real credits, but is robbed of any latent sex appeal by the spit-up stain on the shoulder; he breaks a lace tying his shoes. Before we can see just how wrong the juicing of a blood orange can go, a yawning Dexter catches the sound of Cody playing Marco-Polo in the backyard. Because also in the offseason, Dex and Rita bought a fancy new house in a fancy new neighborhood with a fancy pool in the yard. Rita's trying to wrangle him into his school clothes, while Astor blasts her music from her bedroom. "If I had an iPod," she says, Rita wouldn't be subjected to her crap music. Rita says that's no way to lobby for an iPod. Man, putting a serial killer under the same roof as a teen girl entering her bitchiest years? Recipe for disaster.

By Joe R

Dex is all shirt-and-tied up because he's in court this morning, but he's looking the opposite of sharp. And he left his keys in the fridge. Out front, we see the new house is painted a shade of bright salmon only Tim Burton or Maria LaGuerta could love. He voices over how he's now playing the role of the perfect suburban father and husband, while door, an actual perfect suburban father and husband horses around with his kids. Perfecto Dad -- Elliott -- works out a kid-watching arrangement with Rita as the rest of us file him under C for "Chekhov" and move on. "Carpools and swimming pools," Rita remarks as she hugs Dexter. "How much are we living the dream?" Dexter's "Soooo much," could be more convincing.

Actually living the dream is Deb, who, at the moment, is living the dream of her hot boyfriend going down on her. Anton's still got the scars on his back from when the Skinner was ... well, skinning him. He and Deb talk domestic -- they need to TiVo Jon Stewart, after all -- but when it comes time for another round in bed, Deb's late for work. Anton exposits that they've moved in together, and that he's about to go on tour with whatever band he's in that I kind of forgot about. Anton tells her she makes him happy, and Deb gets that look on her face. That "Oh shit, I got something good here, better get to fucking it up" look.

In court, Dexter's on the witness stand, answering questions from an attorney (Lisa Darr, the mom from Popular), and fumbling through his paperwork like someone who doesn't generally have a pathological tendency towards organization. Fatherhood really does change people. The way Popular Mom is rolling her eyes and sighing at this display, you'd think she was the prosecutor, but she's actually the defense attorney. When Dexter reads some lab results that don't sound right, P-Mom asks him to repeat, and he realizes he's reading from the wrong case file. Must've left the one for this case at home. In the gallery, Quinn lets out a disgusted sigh and stomps out, while P-Mom absolutely decimates Dexter's credibility, as a witness and investigator.

By Joe R

Outside the precinct, Deb is meeting with her contact in records about her dad's shady, cheating past. Her contact -- whose name I can't think of for the life of me -- tells her she'd be better off spending time with her man than digging through old Confidential Informants her dad might've diddled. Deb cheerfully ignores that sound advice. She needs to know that her perfect father wasn't so perfect. WHY she needs to know the specifics when she already knows he cheated is pretty much what makes Deb Deb. And why I love her self-destructive ass. Dex walks past and right into an irate Quinn, who tells him about picking out a suit for the kid whose father was killed by Benito Gomez. The same Benito Gomez Dexter's shoddy preparation just helped get exonerated. He doesn't want Dexter's apologies, just to shove Gomez's case file into Dexter's hands so he'll know what he's done to his victims (it's some gruesome, eyes-out-of-sockets stuff). And presumably feel terrible about screwing up. Of course, Quinn doesn't know that Dexter doesn't feel anything (bad news) and will most definitely atone for his fuck-uppery by killing the everloving crap out of Gomez (good news!). Anyway, Deb gets Quinn to back off, but even she is amazed to hear Dexter made such a huge mistake.

Inside, LaGuerta has assembled the homicide division together to get a look at the aqua green power suit she's rocking today. Also to run down the day's cases. Quinn's still staring shillelaghs through Dexter's skull, prompting Masuka to offer to do whatever Dex needs to "get that angry Irish off [his] ass." Which, because it's Masuka, probably means something I can't type without blushing. LaGuerta announces a new case she wants Deb and Quinn on, and Dexter should go too since there's "a lot of blood."

When they get to the crime scene, we see all that blood is helpfully contained in the bathtub, with the victim. Yep, it's Lithgow's crime scene, only all the blood that overflowed out of the tub when he killer her has been meticulously cleaned up. Dexter marvels at the pristine nature of it all ("He obviously doesn't have kids," he voice-overs), while Masuka makes the obligatory "bloodbath" joke. Deb notes the absence of a murder weapon, which rules out a suicide. Masuka agrees: "The coroner can suck my uncircumcised dick if he doesn't rule this a homicide." "TMI," rules Deb, as we all heartily co-sign. Quinn pointedly tells Deb to keep Dexter on task if they actually want to see the perp who did this go to jail.

By Joe R

Outside, a comely young reporter named Christine Hill ducks under the crime scene tape and approaches Quinn. She wants to know if "Ms. Bell" was the only victim -- she got the woman's name from a web search on the house address. She peppers Quinn with questions about the murder and the suspects, while he tries to deflect by saying it still might be suicide. Pills or slit wrists, she asks, women only really do one or the other. Is that sexist? Should I be asserting that a woman could stick a revolver in her mouth and pull the trigger same as a man? That feels like a counterproductive argument. Anyway, Quinn's impressed and tells her if she cracks the case before they do, give him a call. On his cell. Yes, can the hottest guy on the force PLEASE get some action this season?

Back at the station Deb halfheartedly bitches to Seafoam LaGuerta about the coffee machine, and rather than roll her eyes at the day's fifth regularly scheduled Deb tantrum, LaGuerta instead smiles. And engages her in conversation! Deb says when life's going good, that's just God's way of saying your ass is about to get bit. LaGuerta asks if this is at all based in fact or if she's just making herself crazy. "That's kinda what I do," Deb says, with a grin. LaGuerta says from someone who's been there before, "knock it off." Deb changes subjects and asks if Maria ever went out with some friend of Anton's, but Maria says "musicians aren't really [her] thing." Smiling, Deb says the guy owns three restaurants -- Cuban ones at that ... and what the fuck is wrong with musicians. If you have any familiarity with Deb at all, you'd be forgiven for reading this scene and picturing her usual scowl of hatred on her face, but she's actually doing this weird thing that's almost like smiling. LaGuerta, also smiling, said that came out wrong ... and what makes Deb think "Cuban" matters? Deb: "That came out wrong, too." And pours LaGuerta a cup of coffee. Maria says she's not looking for anybody right now, but when and if she is, she'll let Deb know. You guys, God help the greater Miami-Dade area if these two have actually become friends.

By Joe R

A yawning Dexter is in his lab, voicing-over about how nice it is to escape the crying babies and rowdy stepchildren and be alone with his blood samples. He's looking up info on Benito Gomez, sees he's a washed-up former boxer who lives in a trailer park. Dissatisfied with that crowded locale for a murder scene, he instead Google-maps a nearby dive bar. The phone rings, and it's Rita: Harrison won't go down for his nap -- can Dex sing to him. She puts him on speaker, and Dexter sings from "America the Beautiful," which calms the baby right down. Props on judicious choice of patriotic ballads, sir. Bonus points for scrolling through gruesome crime scene photos while he sings about the purple mountains' majesty. After Rita hangs up, Dex voices over his plans to finish up the Lisa Bell bloodwork, do some recon on Gomez, and sing "the other 95 verses of 'America the Beautiful'" to his boy. "Who knew life could get so...unsimple." Dex repeats to himself that he can deal.

Quittin' time. Masuka trolls the office for someone who will please hit up the titty bar with him. If we ever find out Masuka is also living a double life as a serial killer and only using the pathetic horndog shtick as a cover, I will French kiss the entire writing staff. After Quinn, Dexter, and even Deb turn him down, he finds a willing victim in Angel, who could use a Cuervo after a shitty day. Lord knows how much Cuervo it would take to drown out Masuka, but I'm optimistic Angel's husky frame could handle it.

So with Angel and Masuka at the titty bar, Dexter is staking out Tito's Bar, where Gomez is hanging out. Dexter's VO drones on about his "dark passenger" (full disclosure: I kind of drift in and out when the dark passenger stuff comes around; I get that Dexter tends to romanticize his killing, I've just heard it before, is all) and makes mental notes of how he'll be abducting Gomez tomorrow night.

Meanwhile, LaGuerta's at home, putting the pastels away until morning. But then she starts mussing her hair up just right, and you get the feeling she's expecting someone. A male someone. "I wasn't sure you were gonna come by," she says, before turning around to reveal...Angel! Dude! What happened to that nice cop from vice he was seeing? Whatever, I like LaGuerta better, and they certainly seem happy with this secret arrangement. "Tell me again this isn't crazy," she whispers as she climbs up on him. "Crazy good," Angel says. It's a testament to these two actors in these roles that my very first thought in this scene wasn't incredulity that Morales and Dr. Nathan were hooking up.

By Joe R

The morning, at Dexter's Amazing Salmon-Colored Dream House, he's taking photos of a sleeping Harrison (that he's doing so with the camera he usually shoots crime scenes with is unfortunately nowhere near the most fucked-up thing in this kid's life). He remarks to Rita about how innocent children are...until something happens. The creepy portent is lost on Rita, as per usual. Then Astor starts blasting whatever music her unformed ears finds appealing (if this were at all realistic, it'd be Paramore), waking the baby. Rita's pissed and makes Astor walk around the living room with her crying brother until he falls asleep again. Dex asks why not just give in and let her have the damn iPod, but Rita won't give in to the manipulation. I like how we're seeing Rita hates being manipulated every bit as much as Dexter does. And while she's on the warpath, Rita also tells Cody no more Marco Polo before school. Cody pouts and says when he grows up, he wants to be just like Dexter, "do what I want, when I want." "You and me both," Dexter VOs, before putting on the goofy dad face and carrying Cody out of the room.

At work, LaGuerta's in the elevator, smiling to herself. Probably because she can't believe she managed to top yesterday's vision in aqua with the "Mother's Day bouquet" floral print explosion she's wearing today. Maria LaGuerta, you are a ray of rose-colored sunshine, I swear. Or else she's smiling because she and Angel are both in the elevator, trying not to tip Masuka off to their affair. Masuka's currently carrying out an affair with a microwave burrito at the moment, so I doubt he notices. He does needle Angel about their great time last night. Maria studies the ceiling, Angel is silent. "What?" Masuka barrels on, "You could totally have fucked that stripper." Maria is unsuccessful at suppressing a smile and leaves the two boys with a pleasantly terse "Get to work, gentlemen." Masuka: "What got into her?" HA! ANGEL DID! Got into LaGuerta, I mean! With his boner! ...Man, it's sad being Masuka even for one minute, you guys.

Back at the Bell crime scene, Dexter is interrupting one of his usual "fun with yarn" spatter displays to dig up the bathroom linoleum. He tells Deb he found some blood that didn't belong to the victim, but it's too old a sample to belong to the killer. While Quinn grouses about Dexter needlessly complicating his case, Dex finds a sample beneath the floor. On her way out, Deb warns Quinn not to "go asshole" on her brother, while Dexter keeps his head down and collects a sample. Dexter's blood reverie is interrupted by the return of an old frenemy, Special Agent Lundy. Dexter is, as usual, nervous as hell to see his "favorite serial killer hunter." He starts inquiring about the crime scene, the severed femoral artery, the immaculate crime scene. He never quite gets to a point, but asks if he can stop by the station later. Dexter smiles on the outside, curses on the inside.

By Joe R

Deb, meanwhile, leafs through the stack of C.I. files in her front seat, settling on one that looks an awful lot like Maude's daughter (BTW, the file belonging to Laura "Dexter's birth mom" Maser is the one in the pile). Indeed, Deb knocks on the door and Adrienne Barbeau answers. Inside, Deb says she wants to talk about her dad, and Adrienne smiles and reminisces about "Handsome Harry Morgan." Deb has to tell her he's dead, which is always awkward, before dancing around the subject at hand. It's a testament to how far Deb has come, as a cop and a person, that she avoids slamming her hand down on the table and shouting "Did you fuck my father?" Eventually, Adrienne picks up what she's putting down and says that while she'd have totally been willing, Harry never wanted her. "I don't know who you're looking for, honey," Adrienne smiles, "but it ain't me." That's either an oddly brief cameo or we'll be seeing this lady again down the line.

In the lab, Dexter is shopping around for an appropriate venue where he can slay Gomez. He finds one in a closed-down boxing arena, fitting for a former boxer like Gomez. Actually, he voices over, "A fitting place for Benny Gomez to go down for the count." Oh, Dexter, puns? Are we named Mary Alice? You can do better.

In the bullpen, Angel gets handed a flash drive, the latest piece of evidence in a new dead-honeymooning-tourist case (this is the second time it's been mentioned, so there's a good chance it'll be important later). LaGuerta happens by and says the mayor's been on her ass about this, so solve it fast. Neither Deb nor the evidence-delivering cop notices the look that passes between Angel and LaGuerta as she leaves. Evidence Cop does ask Angel whatever happened with that vice cop, Gianna, and Angel exposits that they wanted different things. So that answers that question.

By Joe R

Dexter takes off and heads to ... his old apartment. Safe to assume he's not using it as a bachelor pad, but still. "The perfect husband would have gotten rid of his old apartment," Dex VOs. "But I kill people. Not exactly the perfect husband." I'd wager you still rank higher than Jon Gosselin, though. He fingers his slides (I'm not even sure if that's dirty or not) and tells them "someone new is moving in." He picks out a knife for the occasion, then off to the abandoned boxing arena. The ring is still set up in the middle of the floor, which doesn't seem quite right to me. Whoever used to run that promotion would have taken their ring with them, or sold it at least. But I'm quibbling, it's a nice locale for a murder. Dex outfits the entire ring in plastic, including a canopy over the ring. I always forget how much Dexter's murders are also like one-man-show community theater productions. Lots of stagecraft. Hours of thankless prep. No audience.

thing we know, Dexter's staking out in front of the dive bar. Gomez is inside, having a beer. Normally, it'd just be a matter of the waiting game, but exhausted Dexter closes his eyes for a moment and he's asleep. Fade to black. Fade up to a cop shining a light in Dexter's window. The cop finds it awfully suspicious that Dexter is sleeping alone in his car outside a bar. Oh, he's not alone! Dexter, tell him about your Dark Passenger! (Which reminds me, who doesn't think an "Ask Me About My Dark Passenger" bumper sticker would sell? Get on it, Showtime!) Dex plays the cop card when he hands over his license and registration, but the cop's a hardass and makes him recite his ABCs backwards anyway. As Dexter does so, he has to watch Gomez exit the bar and drive away. The cop grumpily sends him on his way, and since Dex can't exactly give Gomez chase with a cop right there, the evening's plans appear to be off.

Back home, Rita tells a downtrodden Dexter that the baby's asleep. Which means it's time for sex! Not quickie the-kids-are-asleep sex, but "slow, hot, naughty sex." Um, okay, but where are Cody and Astor? Here's a situation where an iPod with headphones would be pretty useful. Anyway, Dexter's about half-excited and half-wishing he could just go to sleep, but when Rita comes out with the feather whip and basket full of sexy treats, he knows it's on and seems pretty okay with it. And honestly, could YOU turn down Rita when she looks so happy to get to dip into the naughty basket? Even if it does look like it's full of Bath and Body Works shampoos more than anything else.

By Joe R

So after the frilly lovemaking, and what seems to be a too-brief period of sleep, Dexter awakens to a crying baby. Dex volunteers to take feeding duties, and while Harrison noshes, Dexter whispers, almost sweetly, "You wanna know what? Daddy kills people." It's kind of nice he has someone he can talk to about it. He goes on to pledge that he's not going anywhere. "I already lost my innocence, I'm not gonna sacrifice yours, too."

The morning, Dex gets hassled by the coffee van guy for ordering his third triple red-eye of the day. Dexter brushes him off, but seriously: it can't be much past noon, maybe Squeaky Voiced Teen there has a point. Meanwhile, Intrepid Girl Reporter Christine Hill finds Quinn and hands him her article. She asks him about the case, he tells her they've got "bigger fish to fry" in these vacation murderers (there it is again), and it's all very off the record and flirty-flirty. After they both very unconvincingly assure each other they're not hitting on the other, they make plans for a date. Quinn's cute when he smiles, this Christine can stay if she keeps making that happen.

In the lab, Masuka returns with lab results from our bathtub victim. The beneath-the-floor blood sample returned with no useful DNA markers, but Dexter has an idea to search records for Lisa Bell's address. He comes up with a murder there, from 1970. One Vicky Noonan was killed in her bathtub, bleeding out after her leg was sliced. "What are the chances of that?" Masuka asks. "What are the chances of what?" asks Special Agent Lundy, sneaking up as he is wont to do. Dexter assumes his usual posture of nervous aloofness, while Masuka can barely move. His hero worship is stoked further when Lundy remembers his name, though the wind is taken out of his sails when Lundy asks to speak to Dexter alone. Aw, Vince. Looks like a lapdance of failure awaits you after work.

Lundy says he's in town on a case, but since he's now retired from the Bureau, he needs Miami PD's help tracking down "the one twisted son of a bitch who got away." Sit back while Lundy tells you a story, won't you? "I call him the Trinity Killer," he begins, while Dexter slowly exhales, no doubt relieved Lundy's not after him this time. Trinity kills in threes, Lundy says, and has been doing so all over the country for years. But the cross-country nature of the crimes (too many police departments, none of them talking to each other) mean Lundy can't even prove he exists. Lisa Bell's murder profile fits the victims. "Trinity's in Miami, Dexter," Lundy says. "Starting his cycle all over again." Dexter asks how far back Lundy's case files go on this. "Fifteen years." Well as it happens, Dex and Masuka just found an old murder with the same M.O. from thirty years ago. Lundy digs into the case file, now more certain than ever that Trinity's beginning his cycle over again, back where he started. "You know what this means, don't you?" Lundy asks. That the writers allowed themselves one of screenwriting's most venerable clichés for exposition? No, Dexter offers, with a serious tone of admiration, "Trinity's the most successful serial killer to ever...get away with it." Man, once everybody figures out Dexter's a serial killer, they are really gonna kick themselves for never getting suspicious whenever he talked creepy like that.

By Joe R

Interspersed within that last scene were ominous shots of what appeared to be an abandoned gym (you know, between this and the abandoned boxing ring, you have to figure the economy hit Miami's fitness community hardest of all). As anguished moans fill up the empty rows of lockers, we wind into the shower stalls, where John Lithgow, our Trinity, is wailing in his altogether. That's two, show. Don't think I won't be sending y'all a bill when this season's finished. Trinity turns up the hot water and basically scalds himself as he cries. Man, see what happens to children who are denied iPods?

Back at the station, Deb totally bails on a phone call with Anton when she sees Lundy. Sigh. She is going to fuck this one up in every imaginable way, isn't she? That she greets her old boyfriend with a "Motherfucking fuck" only slightly lessens my dread. He opts not to tell her he's in town on a case, interestingly enough; rather, he just says he's retired and that his "natural forward momentum" brings him to Miami. He passive-aggressively motions to the photo of Deb and Anton on the desk, but verbally merely congratulates her for making detective. This whole awkward interaction ends as Lundy takes his leave, and Deb's like, "Maybe I'll see you and maybe I won't, you don't know." The little "really??" head-tilt Jennifer Carpenter gives before Deb walks offscreen is kind of a gem. I promised Jeff if I took this gig I'd continue singing her praises, so here's my weekly "Jennifer Carpenter is awesome" moment. Because she is.

By Joe R

Angel and LaGuerta wait for the elevator and feign professional niceties, practically counting down the seconds until they can talk for real. But of course, the elevator doors can't quite shut before Masuka barges on in. "Drinks?" he asks. LaGuerta doesn't have to scream in frustration, her bright-pink jacket does it for her.

In the lab, Dexter's voice-over grouses that after his cop altercation, he can no longer nab Gomez outside the bar. He's gonna have to snatch him where he lives, in that crowded trailer park. "A higher degree of difficulty," Dex allows, but he'll have to do it, if only for his son's sake. "I'm killing for two now." It's a cute sentiment, but I'm hoping Dexter elaborates on that as the season goes on, because I'm not sure I follow. He's not killing to support his son, of course. You could say he's not getting caught for the sake of his son -- it's not just his life that'd be over now. That makes a kind of twisted sense, I suppose.

Cut to the trailer park that night. No special precautions or elaborate diversions to keep the riff-raff occupied. Just a knock on Gomez's door and a swift syringe to the neck when he answers it. In the plastic boxing tent, Dexter's got everything laid out for the ritual, including Gomez. Photos of Gomez's victims along his eye-line. Tools at the ready. Sleepy Dexter envies his passed-out prey for a moment, before slapping his face and cracking open some poppers (!) to keep himself awake. My stars. Where in Miami did Dexter ever get his hands on poppers? I don't know if they'll make him any more effective a killer tonight, but his asshole's gonna feel amazing!

Anyway, so Dexter looks like a total zombie by the time Gomez comes to. He recognizes Dex from the courtroom, not like that matters. Dexter collects his blood sample, stuffs a rag in his mouth, and then sits down for a Final Thought. "Can I do it?" he asks himself. "Can I have it all?" Can bring home a victim's severed forearm and fry it up in a pan? Before he can actually get the killing finished and have a good night's sleep, at long last, the phone rings. It's Rita. Harrison has an ear infection, and she needs him to go to a 24/7 pharmacy right away. Dexter's kind of in the middle of something, but of course he can't elaborate. "Whatever you're doing can wait," she says, not exactly bitchily, just short and without room for discussion. "Gotta go," Dex tells Gomez. "No time to savor this."

By Joe R

And so Dexter commences in perhaps his quickest killing ever. It is not at all the tidy, meticulous method he generally prefers. Knife to the heart, saw to the limbs, slipping around on the bloody plastic wrap, fumbling with body parts as he tries to bag them. This is undignified. Yet another casualty of our go-go-go culture. Dex hastily wraps everything up, which, not to be that guy, but even rushing through the job it had to have taken some time. Certainly long enough that Rita would wonder what's taking him so long at the pharmacy, right? In that respect, the events of the five minutes offer Dex one hell of an excuse for tardiness.

Dexter shoves the last Bags of Gomez into the trunk and gets on the road. He's rubbing his eyes as he VOs about how this imperfect kill perhaps calls for some adjustments to his routine, but all things considered, he's juggling things okay. He looks at the prescription medicine on the passenger seat. Hey, maybe he IS pulling this off. His eyelids sure seem heavy. "I can do this," he assures us. Himself. Of course, that's before he spots Spectral Harry along the side of the road. Spectral Harry, as is often the case, is here to rattle Dexter's cage a bit. "Dexter!" he yells, "You don't need to sleep!" Dex begins to nod off, until Harry them appears in the middle of the road. "You need to wake up!" That's when Dexter jerks the wheel, takes the car into a skid, and flips it over about three and a half times. Blackout.

Well! I can honestly say I never saw that coming! As I said in the recaplet, I'll hazard a guess that on a show called Dexter, Dexter will live. But it worries me that we never saw him dispose of the Bags of Gomez.

Joe R hopes everybody learned a valuable lesson about getting enough sleep and not overworking yourself. In between giant cups of coffee, he'd love to hear from you at joseph.reid21@gmail.com.

What if Flashforward happened to Dexter? Find out.