Props to regular F&G recappers Maggie and Cate, for letting me trespass on their turf one last time. Further props to the Fox Family Channel for picking up the remaining episodes and agreeing to (maybe) make more. (I never thought I'd give props to a station that syndicates Early Edition. It's a funny old world, isn't it?)
As ONTV (the Canadian station that carries F&G) takes over the NBC feed, there's a moment of wavy disruption, and then we see Cindy, sitting beside Sam at the Weir dinner table, saying something that sounds like, "Well, if I were them, I'd be the nervous ones [sic]. I wouldn't shop at that big mega-store if you paid me." Dad Weir looks pleasantly surprised that he should agree with one of his children's friends, and exclaims, "Ooh, I like this girl! Isn't she great, Lindsay?" Caught off-guard, Lindsay diffidently agrees that Cindy is "great." Mom Weir addresses Cindy and says she hears that something exciting is happening at school this week. Cindy confirms the rumour and primly announces, "Vice-President George Herbert Walker Bush is coming to our school to speak at an assembly in the cafeteria." Mom Weir looks pleased at having such a well-spoken young Stepford daughter at her table; it must be quite a change from having Nick boarding with them. Dad Weir blusters that he'd love to find a way to get the veep to shop at his store, since "you can't pay for that kind of publicity." Sam, who is wearing a grey shaker-knit sweater with black armbands that could have been plucked from my cousin Chris's 1980 closet, gives Cindy a little free publicity by declaring that Cindy's post as the head of McKinley's Young Republicans confers upon her the honour of introducing the Vice-President at the assembly. Mom Weir marvels at what a big honour it is, and for some reason invites Lindsay to agree with her. Lindsay -- once again, sounding like she wishes she could be excluded from the conversation -- replies that it is an honour, "if you're a Republican." "Oh, and you're not?" snorts Dad Weir. Lindsay shirtily informs him that she's a Democrat. Dad Weir scoffs, "You know, everyone's a Democrat until they get a little money. Then they come to their senses." I have to say that's true, in my experience, though that's not exactly how I'd phrase it. When I first saw Roger & Me (about ten years after its release -- hey, I was just a kid when it came out!), I watched it with my mom, who was at the time and still is a pretty highly-placed HR VP at a rapidly expanding data services company, which means that a considerable portion of her duties is to...well, fire people. So here I was, in my last year as an undergrad, watching R&M and feeling all fired up at the social injustice of so many honest, working-class people getting laid off as GM moved their operations out of Michigan and into Mexico, and trying to get my mom to agree at how wrong that was (particularly since at the time we lived in St. Catharines, Ontario -- basically, Flint, Michigan North -- a GM town that was losing factories every year), and I was appalled when she started making arguments in favour of the corporation's business decisions. I don't know what else I expected, since she wasn't Union, and hadn't been for years -- she was Management. It was much the same disconnecting experience my friend Doppelganger told me she had when she watched Office Space, and laughed uproariously at Peter's travails, only to be pulled up short when her husband, Sugar Larry, pointed out that as a partner in her web development firm, she wasn't a Peter anymore: She was a Lumbergh. In conclusion, much as we may not want to admit it when we're in high school or college...Dad Weir's observation does tend to be accurate.
Okay, so in the time it took me to tell that story, the opening credits and commercials ran, and when we come back to the show, Cindy and a bunch of blow-dried Girl Republicans are gingerly carrying a hand-painted banner welcoming Vice-President Bush down the hall. They pass four dark-suited men (who are trying to blend but are obviously Secret Service agents) walking in the opposite direction; the agent in the lead is wearing dark glasses. The posse starts up a flight of stairs, beneath which the Freaks, as is their custom, are loitering. The agent pulling up the rear stops on a low step, leans into the alcove to inspect the Freaks, then continues on his way. A nonplussed Ken mutters, "What, are the Blues Brothers doing a show in town tonight?" Daniel tells him about George Bush's imminent visit. "The porn star?" Nick asks. He was? How did that youthful indiscretion stay out of the "character issue" debates? Ken patiently tells Nick who George Bush is, just as Lindsay and Amy (the sideburn-stroking tuba player) roll up and say hi. Ken beams at the sight of Amy, who makes a beeline for him; he fondly puts his arm around her shoulders, and then asks her what's wrong. She tells him she's nervous because the band will be playing "Hail to the Chief" before Bush speaks and "there's a lot of tuba." Lindsay assures her that Bush probably doesn't know anything about the tuba (uh, you could have stopped after "anything," babe). Ken teases Amy by mimicking the sound of "Hail to the Chief" played on an out-of-tune tuba. Mr. Kowchevski appears at the bottom of the stairs and wearily tells everyone to get out of the alcove. Daniel whines, "Since when?" and Kowchevski says that the Secret Service wants all these areas cleared out for the veep's visit. The Freaks slowly collect themselves and make to leave as Daniel deadpans, "How're we ever going to plan our coup?" Daniel knows the word "coup"? Mr. Kowchevski sternly tells him not even to joke about it: "I could get you thrown in jail just for saying that." Daniel actually looks nervous at this information. Ken and Amy are the last to leave; she tells him she has to practise now, anyway. He asks if she wants to hang out after school, and she tells him she'll have to practise then, too, and that he's "a bad influence." "So, I'll see you at 6:30?" Ken asks, smoothly. Amy smirks. They smooch. Amy is adorable.
Bill and Neal sit alone at their table in the cafeteria. The camera rests on them, straight on, as they monitor another table, from which we hear Cindy's voice yammering about "the game." Sam is sitting between her and Todd, looking morose. Gordon and Harris join Bill and Neal. Gordon asks, "What's happening?" and, as peals of laughter rise from the jock/cheerleader table, Bill sadly replies, "We don't know. It's all going on over there." The camera cuts to the j/c table to reveal Sam looking uncomfortable. Harris remarks, "Once you start down that dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny. At least, that's what Yoda always says." Neal and Bill can't muster the strength to answer, and just stare at the j/c table, where Cindy is in the process of declaring, "I mean, not all cheerleaders have to be pretty, but their cheerleaders aren't even remotely pretty. I mean, they're dirty." Vicki gesticulates with a french fry as she enumerates all the ways in which the reportedly "dirty" cheerleaders are "disrespectful."