Shout-outs to Tabbyclaw and Ebongreen. Also, y'all should know that since Professor Frink and I were in Manhattan when this aired, we were able to watch it in our hotel room with Sars, which made it extra-good. ["Aw, that's what I was saying about y'all!" -- Sars] It's the first time I've ever watched an episode of any show I recapped with my editor present. So I will be including some of Sars's real-time remarks in the text, and her editorial comments will be inserted in square brackets as always. And you will laugh at all of them, if you know what's good for you.
It's a dark and stormy night. No, really. There's a fire in the hearth and music playing in the Girardi living room. Helen's in her pyjamas and robe, sitting on the couch reading or perhaps doing a crossword, when someone comes to the door. She gets up to answer it, griping about the fact that no one else could be bothered. I like the way the lightning makes it possible to glimpse through the curtained window the distinctive hat of one of the people standing there. She opens it to find two state trooper types standing there; though they ask for her, she immediately assumes they're looking for Will. She tells them she thinks he's in the shower. But they tell her they have bad news: her son's been in an accident. I'm sure now that this must be a dream, but I can't help thinking for a split second: Luke? Or Kevinagain? They confirm it was Kevin. She insists it can't be; Kevin called from the party he's at. One trooper explains there was an accident as Kevin was leaving the party, and they've come to take her to the hospital: "I'm afraid his condition is serious." Helen asks how serious. He simply replies, "Let us take you to the hospital, Mrs. Girardi." Helen hesitates, saying, "I remember this, but not this housewhat house is this?" She looks around, and sees Kevin walking down the stairs, shirtless, with wet hair and a towel around his neck. The trooper tells her that her son's condition is critical. Helen points to Kevin and says, "No. There he is. Look!" Stopped on the stairs, Kevin asks, "Who are those clowns?" Helen turns back to the doorway to see two actual clowns standing there. Yikes. Maybe television shows should be required to provide warnings for coulrophobics, like the ones they have to broadcast about violent and sexual content. Clowns? Always scary-ass. I can't believe they are primarily called upon to entertain children. She starts guffawing as the clowns sort of glide into the house somewhat. She laughs and calls to an unseen Will that he has to come see this. We see the clowns standing there in the doorway with sad expressions as we cut to Helen tossing and turning in bed, muttering Will's name.
The nightmare continues (as does the stormy weather), this time in a large, dark, empty church, as a nurse or orderly wheels an elderly woman in a wheelchair down the aisle. Creaking loudly, they pass behind Helen, who is in her pyjamas, standing at a table full of tall tapered candles (mostly lit), and lighting one herself. She doesn't seem to hear or notice the people moving past her. She puts down the match and starts walking toward the altar, saying, "Look, here's the thing. You can't let my son die. You justcan't. I know I haven't been good, but that's no reason to punish him. Take me, instead. Just don't punish him for what I've done wrong." It's more a demand than a plea. She sits in a pew. The camera angle changes, and in the row behind her, we can see Cute Guy God sitting there, looking concerned. Sars: "I know it's blasphemous, but he's yummy." He asks, "Do you think that's how I work, Helen?" I would have jumped out of my skin (even in a nightmare) but she just turns slowly and asks, "Who are you?" He says, "I'm God." Helen, obviously skeptical: "As inGod." He nods. Helen: "Burning bush, tower of Babel, Ten Commandments God?" He nods, saying, "I've been through this with your daughter." Helen wonders what her daughter has to do with this. Cute Guy God: "Everything." Helen: "Are we talking about Joan? My Joan, can't-finish-a-book-report-on-time Joan?" We cut back to Cute Guy God, only this time it's Joan sitting there in a purple sweater, but it's still Cute Guy God's voice. And it's creepy, let me tell you. Creepy Joan God replies, "She's open to possibility. That's my favourite instrument." Helen asks what he's talking about. Creepy Joan God: "Just be open. That's all I ask." Creepy Joan God gets up and walks out. Helen watches and says, "No, come back. What are you doing? Joan! Joan!"
“ 'It's God's idea of a cruel joke. Last day of school, party in the quad, everybody wearing miniskirts: let's give Joan herpes.' 'Everybody' in miniskirts? Who's sponsoring this party, the Gap? Like Joan ever wears miniskirts, anyway. So not her style. And I'll just bet Grace is ripping her closet apart right now, trying to decide between her pink miniskirt and her peach one. ”
Helen suddenly awakes and sits up in bed; Will's awake, too, and concerned. He reassures her that she was dreaming as she gasps. She tells him how real it was, and that she dreamt that the cops came to the door to tell her about Kevin. Will strokes her arm, saying he's had that dream, too. Helen: "Do they turn into clowns?" Will, already lying down again: "Almost never." Credits. I hope they redo the cast pictures and clips for Season Two. I'd like to see some new stuff in there. They're going to have to include Christopher Marquette, anyway. And Becky Wahlstrom. Right? Right? During the commercials we discuss the issue of seeing God or other religious personages in one's dreams. Frink mentions that in Islam, it's said that the only two beings who can't be impersonated in a dream are God and the Prophet Muhammad, so if you see either one in a dream, it's for real. I'm not sure if Helen would find this comforting or not. ["I think it's thoughtful of Islam to clarify this eventuality specifically. I told, like, ten people how nifty I thought that was." -- Sars]
Joan's at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, with one foot up on a lower, nearby counter. The leg of her jeans is rolled up, and she's dabbing calamine lotion on a large, red, inflamed area on her leg, and scratching it too: "Great. Leprosy. Just in time for summer." Isn't it just a little gross to be doing this in the kitchen? Luke says it's probably a staph infection she picked up in the locker room. He glances at it and says, "Ooh, very tenacious. Calamine's not gonna do it." Joan: "Hey! Sometimes science should be seen and not heard." Kevin, closing the fridge, comments, "Legs are overrated. Take it from an expert: you can still get laid. Oh, yeah." Heh. Joan: "Do boys have to talk?" Helen comes down the kitchen stairs, apologizing for being late: "Who wants pancakes?" Kevin points out that they're already eating: "Day-old burrito for me. Luke has some fish sticks, and Joan has corn chips." Joan says she's "being into protein." Helen grouses that they're all going to get scurvy. Luke: "Joan already has it." Helen looks at Joan's leg and asks, "What is that?" Joan: "It's God's idea of a cruel joke. Last day of school, party in the quad, everybody wearing miniskirts: let's give Joan herpes." "Everybody" in miniskirts? Who's sponsoring this party, the Gap? Like Joan ever wears miniskirts, anyway. So not her style. And I'll just bet Grace is ripping her closet apart right now, trying to decide between her pink miniskirt and her peach one. Helen says she looks cute in jeans. Joan: "You don't like boys looking at my legs." Helen: "Yeah. I'm kind of Amish that way."
As she fills a coffeepot, she offhandedly mentions she dreamt about God last night. Joan looks concerned, but before she can say anything, Helen pleads with her children to at least have some juice. Joan: "Are you kidding?" Helen: "Just a thimbleful of vitamins. It might even cure your rash." Joan says she was talking about God. Helen: "God was like this teenage boy, and then he turned into you." Joan laughs a nervous, fake laugh. Luke: "I have my recurring dream: Manning the Mars lander." Kevin tells him there's no man in the Mars lander. Luke: "Well, there is in my dreamand he's naked." Joan: "Whoa!" She makes sounds of revulsion. Will comes down the kitchen stairs: "Pancakes?" Helen says she'll make some. Will was actually offering to do it himself. He kisses her, and she says she accepts. Will tells his sons, "She was making Lassie sounds in her sleep." Joan: "Too much bedroom." She holds up and waves a warning finger. Helen continues, "It's just that God was in this corduroy coat, and then he turned into Joan." Joan asks, disturbed: "Brown corduroy coat?" Helen, not terribly surprised: "Yeah. Very handsome." Joan: "Short, spiky hair?" Helen: "You've had that dream?" Joan: "Sort of. But why are you having it?" Luke, breezing around the kitchen: "Oh, classic mother-daughter psychic connection stuff." He believes in that? Will takes a cell phone call and has to leave to deal with a hostage situation: "Domestic [conflict] gone bad." And it's at the precinct. Kevin: "When does a hostage situation ever work out?" Will kisses Helen and says he'll call her. As he leaves, Joan asks exactly what God looked like and said to Helen in her dream. Helen tells her it was just a dream, and that Joan better get her leg looked at. Joan, glumly: "Oh, believe meit's gonna get looked at."