Sorry about that. An hour of strictly white people ought to cure me of this sudden, spontaneous dash of urbanism.
Inside the Cohen kitchen, Ryan "The Great G-" Atwood pours himself some cereal and stands among enough bouquets of roses to cloud our view of the main character, clog the sinuses of any allergy sufferers in a fifty-mile radius, and ensure that the third most popular Outkast song of last year will never, ever, ever leave your head, ever again. He pours his Plot-Develop-I-Os into a large bowl, just in time for "Sideshow" Seth Cohen to enter, note the flowers, and take a big, heaping spoonful of the aforementioned cereal, kicking things off, "Ryan, I had no idea you felt this way." Awwww. We did! But Ryan, eager to keep the Oxford English Dictionary definition of HoYay from growing even more entry longer (for which we thank him, because I still don't know about that word), disavows his feelings for Seth with a cutting, "Don't look at me. They were here when I came in." Just at that moment, Sandy enters the room, looking harried and toting two more bouquets. As he puts them down on the table and thinks about how his wife had better not be allergic to flowers or transparent overcompensation, Seth reminds him, "You do realize Valentine's Day is tomorrow, right?" Well, I hadn't, Seth, but since it would have taken us out of time and space to be even more literal about the purpose of this hour by saying, "You do realize this is the episode that ends with the lesbian kiss sweeps stunt, right?" I guess they could have done worse with the early-episode exposition. Sandy retorts that they'll be "starting a little earlier this year," adding, "Your mother deserves an extra-long holiday." He mentions the fact that her father has been in the hospital, and Seth piles on that Sandy has been "burning the midnight oil," which simultaneously implicates his father in Kirsten's long, slow descent into madness, but in the process at least swaps out Outkast in favor of "Beds Are Burning" for a while, so at least there's that.
Sandy drags the boys out to the car and says there are more flowers to collect, Seth warning him, "There's such a thing as overkill." But it's no use, as Sandy is already out the door, leaving Ryan to wryly comment, "Man, your parents are pretty hardcore about Valentine's Day." Seth hopes merely to "survive this hateful holiday," and the two of them start the walk-and-talk toward the car as Ryan asks, "Still broken up over the Alex breakup?" Seth registers this look that's all, "We used to DATE? I thought I dreamed that" before explaining that his Alex dalliance was "emotional child's play compared to what we're dealing with now." Dodging yet another bullet by not asking, "Well then, I guess that means that you too are feeling the HoYay," Ryan waits patiently for Seth to explain, "Summer's back." Ryan actually deigns to express surprise at this shockingly non-shocking development, Seth telling Ryan that he hadn't expected this to happen, but apparently, "the universe had other plans." Finally, FINALLY reaching the front door of the house -- because apparently those shady contractors from early on in the season built a whole addition and then completely forgot to add back in any spatial logic, those crooks -- Seth vamps on that this is the one-year anniversary of Seth and Summer's "sexualtête-à-tête." It's been a year since their sexual two-seater sofa? Hot. Hot AND couch-y. Picking up on the bastardized French timbre of their chat, Ryan warns that it had better not become "a ménage a trois," reminding Seth that he'll actually be the roué de troisième (or "wheel of third," an expression that works equally badly in English and in French) on their upcoming trip to San Diego. Seth agrees, carrying an armload of flowers back into the house and saying he doesn't even want to go to San Diego or, in fact, be anywhere near Summer whatsoever. But the universe intercedes. The stupid, stupid universe.
Still? Still we're talking about this? Don't we have some hot, lesbo action to attend to? We haven't even gotten to the kiss yet, and in the real world, they would already have kissed, rented the U-Haul, and hung the flag outside their cute little house in P-Town that they moved into three days later, before settling down to send me some barbed hate mail about how I shouldn't fall back on tired clichés about the domesticity habits of the average free-range lesbian. Sorry about that, guys. Uh, "ladies." But yet Seth rants on, informing Ryan that it would be easier for him to take this trip if he and Summer hadn't so recently made out. Ryan is all, "Guh?" so Seth has to explain what he means by employing the ever-inconvenient truth, clarifying, "Our noses grazed. And it was, like, the most sexually-charged nose graze in the history of nose grazes." Ew. Stop saying "nose graze." Thank you. "It's essentially nose-humping, is what it is." And DEFINITELY stop saying "nose-humping." In fact, any kind of nose-as-sex metaphor is strictly off-limits from now on, before you figure out you have some weird nose-sex fetish, start calling yourself "Pinocchio," and telling lies on purpose so that your nose, well, y'know. Seth finishes off his tirade by asking, "What am I going to do?" Besides having about a thousand Eskimo babies from all of their kind of kissing you've been doing. Ryan counsels: "I'm gonna tell you what you're gonna do." He informs Seth he'll be going to San Diego with Summer and Zach, adding, "and you're gonna keep it in your trousers." Trousers? Was this episode written by my grandmother? Why not just tell him to keep it in his slacks? Doesn't he know that heavy petting gives you consumption?And Sandy's back, tending to his Garden Of Clichéd Romantic Plant Life Delights, asking Ryan (who is wearing a red sweater and completely disappears into the surrounding décor, the perfect war camouflage should Ryan find himself forced to fight the War of the Roses har har har a little gentle Valentine's Day humor for you there, folks) if he has any plans with Lindsay. Ryan reminds us all that this is the ten-minute period of every episode this season that finds them on "a break," during which time Lindsay is getting to know her father. Seth does the math: "So for Valentine's Day, you're giving Lindsay Grandpa?" Seth asks Sandy to "step in," though what he would be able to do here is a mystery. Sidestepping such potential awkwardness or perhaps a jaunty musical number called "What A Lady Wants (Is Not The Gift Of Her Dying Father)" from his upcoming Valentine's Day musical entitled Seeing Red!, Sandy turns the topic to his own ability to romance the lady he loves, telling us, "I hope I've learned something after twenty years with your dear mother." With which a be-robed Kirsten "The New And Improved Shiksa Quattro" Cohen enters the kitchen, looking tired and mad. Sandy approaches her brandishing a bushel of seasonal allergies without a Claritin to be found, romancing her, "Here's my Valentine." With which Kirsten wordlessly takes the flowers, crams them in the garbage disposal, and exits. Seth editorializes, "Looks like I'm not the only one at odds with the universe." An entire morning in the kitchen with Sandy Cohen and not one reference to the word "shmear"? I think we're ALL feeling a little at odds with the universe.
Opening credits: No such passion was ever sung about "Utah." Poor Utah.Kirsten's maaaaaaaaaaaad. She wears a mad face and stares into mad space in whatever direction that ensures her vision, peripheral or otherwise, does not come into contact with the existence of Sandy Cohen. Unfortunately, staring into the camera means that she sees Kim Delaney's name when it fades up on screen, though I guess the blow is softened ever so slightly by the fact that she at least sees it in reverse. Sandy walks into the bedroom and closes the door, pausing for prayer and then launching in, "I think I know what this is about. And I can explain." Kirsten rolls her eyes elaborately, which makes Barry Newman's backwards name flip around in a neat little circle (from her view, anyway), and she turns to face him in her…oh my GOD, would you look at the size of that bathrobe. Now I love Kirsten, y'all. She's absolutely my favorite character on the show, and there's usually precious little make fun of, especially when the fashion victimhood is often co-opted by THE HAT. But this Venus Fly Robe looks like what happens to tablecloths when rich white ladies try and do housework. THEY ATTACK. Anyway, the otherwise lovely and radiant Kirsten turns to her emotionally cuckolding husband and tells him, "You lied to me, Sandy." She tells him she knows Rebecca is alive, even though he told her that she was, wait, what's that other thing that she isn't? Oh, right: dead. Sandy tries defense number one: that he thought she was dead when he first told her that. This argument failing to hold water, he moves on to defense number two: that telling Kirsten she was alive could make her an accessory to the crime. Kirsten rails, "Don't try to get off on a technicality," barely avoiding getting accidentally cast as the pretty female D.A. on Law & Order on account of barely leaving off the word "counselor!" ["And of not being a lesbian." -- Sars] Instead, she reminds him, "This is about our marriage. You and I come first." He tells her he did what he thought he had to do, adding, "She's innocent." Kirsten, a Greek chorus of sorts for the audience at large, doesn't care at all. Sandy says that she is his client, and Kirsten again calls him on his bullshit, reminding him, "You were in love with her. Don't pretend this isn't complicated for you." He agrees that it is with raised eyebrows (causing a whoooosh! of air that rushes through the room on the heels of a thousand other eyebrow jokes I'm always just barely stopping myself from making, because, c'mon already), and then begs Kirsten not to fight with him. He hits the "auto pilot" button on The Random O.C. Plot Generator machine (they just leave that thing lying around in the bedroom?) and reminds her, "Tomorrow's Valentine's Day." She storms out of the room. Sandy's just excited because he knows that his Valentine's Day gift is watching girls kiss girls.
Hi, clever cameraman? We know who's at the door. We spot Lindsay's face as she opens the front door of her house, and then we spot a red rose traveling up in some mystery person's hand. It's the Sultan of Brunei! No, wait. It's the Planter's Peanut guy! No, wait. One more guess. Is it Kate Pierson of the B-52's? I'd love to get a red rose from her. She's a pretty lady. Finally the hand reveals itself to be attached to TV's own Ryan Atwood. Lindsay takes it, looking somewhat skeptical, and reminds him, "You said we should take a break." Oh, who remembers when they said they are on a break and when they said they're not on a break anymore? He tells her that it didn't occur to him "at the time" that Valentine's Day was coming up. Out of the mouth's of continuity-challenged writers. They say the darndest things. She whines, "You didn't want to be alone on Valentine's Day. Awwww!" You know, I kind of liked Lindsay when she first rolled into town, with her antiestablishment scowl and faux, bumper sticker activism. But she's left much of her character in her dilapidated trunk, and proper speech seems to have been mothballed with it. She kind of just talks in vowels now. "You are suzhagirl!" Eh? "Suzhagirl." WHAT? SUZH! A! GIRL! Did she have some invasive work done on her gums? Also, she used to be good at physics. But that was a long, long time ago.Ryan, frighteningly the more articulate of the pair, asks if they can "take time off from taking time off," and Lindsay agrees, on the single condition that Ryan "apologize to Caleb." She tells him she knows this whole thing isn't Ryan's fault, but she's going to be spending a lot of time at the grotto while he's convalescing, so she wants things to be chill between all of them. This is a horrible idea. A terribly, horrible, we've-seen-this-scene-and-the--twelve-scenes-it-causes already-twelve-times idea.
Summer stands in her pink-ass room thinking about how glad she is she's not a fat chick. So, SO glad. A knock on the door reveals Seth, who tells her he wants to "touch base" (meaning "touch boobies") before Zach arrives. She asks him if there's something he wants to talk about, causing him to awkwardly ask the same of her. They unbanter (the unbanter! now with no caffeine or charm!) for a while, until Summer finds the plot and tells Seth that there is something she wants to ask him. And here it is: "Are these earrings too bling for a meeting?" Oh, god. They're totally driving into San Diego in a Diet Pepsi truck, aren't they? Don't say "bling." It just made my whole TV whiter. He tells her to shut the eff up about the earrings -- oh, wait, I have confused myself with Seth Cohen AGAIN. He tells her in a somewhat downcast fashion that the earrings are fine. He changes the topic again, telling her that he knows things can get "weird" with the three of them working together, but Summer puts the kibosh on this line of discussion because doing so insures that it WILL NEVER COME UP AGAIN -- yeah, right -- telling him that she's really fine with it. She adds, "I just want us to kick ass on our pitch. I really care about this comic book." Caring enough for a national audience is so much to carry it's going to give the poor thing scoliosis. Because, well, care about the comic book, and you care alone. Because man, for a kid who was grounded for sneaking out of the house so often, his parents don't even seem to notice he's gone. Odd. A knock on the door reveals Zach and a mood-changing music cue, both of whom barge in with non-sequitur idiot-tude. Summer urges Seth, "Move it, Cohen. San Diego's not driving to us." Driving to us! Remember that time that Summer said that thing that totally blew my mind?
Flanked by his two daughters, Caleb-thuselah rides in a wheelchair through the lobby of O.C. General without so much as throwing his hands in the air and yelling, "Wheeee!" So much for having a new lease on life. He wonders why he's being "humiliated" in a wheelchair, and Kirsten tells him he can lose the chair when he gets home. When she's rewarded with a late-night call with a frail voice yelling something about "falling" and "can't get up," she is sincerely going to regret giving a very senior citizen that particular line of advice. Lindsay hands him a bag and tells him it's a "care package," and I literally cannot believe that Caleb exercises restraint enough not to immediately rage, "Well, I certainly hope it's the severed head of that useless boyfriend of yours, who sucks the blood out of one daughter and sucks who-knows-what from the other, who FROTH FROTH AGAIN AGAIN." There. Now I write for The O.C. Suck it, McG. Aaaaaaanyway, what he does say is, "How thoughtful." But what he means is actually everything that I've already written above. In the bag is a Mad Libs, which Kirsten notes were "her favorite" when she was young. Well, Kirsten…for you:A Day At The O.C.
One day, [NAME OF SHOW IN ROOM] premiered on [ANIMAL-NAMED NETWORK] and was the [FOOD-ORIENTED NOUN] of Hollywood. Since that triumphant beginning, however, things have gone [DIRECTION] in both ratings and writing for the show. Now, deep in Season [NUMBER HIGHER THAN ONE], Seth has forgotten how to be [ADJECTIVE], Ryan displays no hint of his former [NOUN], and Caleb is quite unfairly still [WORD MEANING "NOT DEAD"]. Please, Mc[LETTER], for the love of [NAME OF DEITY WHO WATCHES OVER ALL, UNLESS YOU'RE A GODLESS PAGAN, IN WHICH CASE BURN IN HELL, YOU GODLESS PAGAN], fix this or I'm changing the channel and watching [SHOW THAT ISN'T JOEY…IS THAT CRAP STILL EVEN ON?] instead. Much love, [NORTH AMERICAN COUNTRY, PLURAL].
Clip and save.
They exit the hospital, Caleb recapping that Julie is still traveling in Europe, which means he's got the big old house all to himself. Kirsten asks what's become of Marissa, and Caleb actually smiles (it's a sardonic smile, but it doesn't keep it from being terrifying) and responds that Marissa is too busy "running around with that tattooed new friend of hers." When did Marissa start hanging out with the Chili Peppers? Lindsay takes this as a cue to doormat herself at her father's feet, which…honestly, why? She says that if he's looking for company, she knows Ryan wants to stop by for a visit. Yeah, Linds. It's a square peg in a round hole. Stop trying to force that shit in. Caleb says he's seen enough of Ryan, but she's not gonna let it go that easily. Kirsten sends Lindsay off to find "the chauffeur" (who is that, Sandy in a hat? He's usually shepherding the old man around), and waits until they're alone to tell him, "You and Lindsay seem to be making strides." He responds that he regrets coming into her life so late, and Kirsten tells him he can make it up to her by -- wait for it -- making things right with Ryan. Lindsay comes back and Caleb asks, "Lindsay, can three people play Mad Libs? Yes, but it's a giant clusterfuck, especially if one of them wants the noun to be "fart," like, every time. Which Caleb totally would. ["You say that like it's a bad thing." -- HoP] He suggests that Ryan come over, noting, "I understand he's quite handy with an adverb." Like "nonsensically." Which would go well here for a thousand different reasons, because what did that mean at all?
Let's go to San Diego. 'Cause that's where all the kids go. That's a quote from a song by The Thrills, a band I actually adore and adore still, despite their misguided decision to appear on this show. Oh, and if you're reading this and you're the person who bought me "Let's Bottle Bohemia" off of my Amazon wishlist, I'm sorry to say that I never received it. So thank you, kind stranger. And here is your thank you Mad Lib:A Thank-You Note
Thank [pronoun].
I seem to be losing the recapping thread here. One thousand apologies.
A cardboard cutout of Summer's comic book character thatched to the roof, Zach's car motors down a road that finds the surf lapping up against the car, which has to be the world's stupidest way to get from Orange County to San Diego ever. I guess the 5 does run along the coast down there, but still. Shut up, Zach. Summer complains about the music choices, which leads to a banter zone about how Summer tried to run them off the road when they drove to Tijuana. Summer remembers that they had to spend a night in a crappy motel, and awkwardness abounds when Seth says that Summer begged for a spot on the bed and Zach asked which one of them ended up getting said bed. Zach is dumm.
Julie's home! And she's wearing Samantha Fox's enormous sunglasses from the "Naughty Girls Need Love Too" video. I guess the motorcycle is still idling outside. She stands in the enormous vestibule of the house announcing, "I'm home!" Silence. "Anyone here?" Yeah…no. She finally finds Caleb outside reading a newspaper, and she kisses him happily and asks him, "How's the ticker?" He regards her with the usual mix of bemusement and horror that signals strength in the core of any marriage, and she becomes even more annoyed when she sees Lindsay candy-striping out of the kitchen carrying a tray of food. Caleb, obsessed with Mad Libs, tells Julie that they're right in the middle of a game and that perhaps she'd like to go "freshen up." Caleb announces, "Plural noun," and we cut to another scene before we get to see Caleb going, "Oh, I know! I know! Farts!" and Lindsay sighing and rolling her eyes, all, "Fine. I knew you were going to suggest that, anyway."
Knock knock! Realizing some parent-daughter relationships are actually possible to bridge, she makes her way up to Marissa's room to find her wastrel of a daughter, sound asleep in the middle of the day. Marissa announces, "Get out, Mom. I'm sleeping." I don't even remember why she was so mad anymore, do you? Julie unearths a pricey olive branch of a gift that she announces is "a Chanel clutch." Marissa tells her to leave it on the dresser and turns back over, Julie deciding to take a new tack. She tells Marissa that she did some real soul searching, and that she thinks it's time for the two of them to be friends again. "Again"? Julie suggests a dinner for two, and Marissa retorts, "Thanks, mom. But I'm not that lame." Oh, but you are. You are in the chains! YOU ARE! Julie makes her way over to a nearby desk and threatens to take away her Blackberry and her cell phone, which I think has happened before as well. Marissa says she can't do that, and Julie retorts, "I think I just did. You gonna throw the bedroom furniture in the pool now?" Ha! That's where it's happened before. Marissa notes that she's now being blackmailed, telling her mother in a way I can't tell if it's sarcastic or not because of the ACTING, "That's a great plan, Mom." Oh, come on, Marissa! Open your gift! I want to see if you can hop inside a Chanel purse and then try and act your way out of it.
Sandy pulls up to The Law Offices of Cohen, and as he steps out of the car we note Rebecca in the passenger seat. Cutting to another location now, we find him showing her a bedroom and telling her that this would be better than living in his office. She counters that the living in the office part was fine and that the running into Kirsten part was, well, not. Rebecca tells him she knows she's been complicating his life and she got him a gift to thank him for the hassle. It's the seeds of revolution, ripe for sowing! Actually, I think she's a reformed radical now. They all go soft one day. I saw the episode where Homer runs into his mom. This is basically that without the animation. Anyway, the gift is, apparently, Gandhi. Oh, please. I knew he was a little guy, but to fit in that tiny bag, with the…oh! The MOVIE Gandhi! He remembers that every time he sees that movie he thinks of her asleep in the theater, which was apparently the movie they went to on their first date. A pregnant pause elapses, and Sandy launches in that he's not the best lawyer for her. She thinks it's because it might put a strain on his marriage, and he agrees. He says, "There are days that I think me and Kirsten are bulletproof. I don't want to test that theory." Rebecca nods and tells him that he always does the right thing, and he promises her a list "of the best lawyers in town." In, like, Playa or whatever hippie beachy hamlet he's set himself up in? That could go on for…page. He hands her a key. I guess this is a motel of some sort. Their hands touch. It is hotter than a non-hot lesbian kiss, people.Later, Sandy walks onto the patio to find Kirsten reading a book I'm sure is called Famous Failing Husbands Through History. She tells him that the credit card company called to confirm that he's staying at "The Inn at Playa Del Rey." That sounds nice. He tells her it's for Rebecca so that she doesn't have to stay at the office. Kirsten locks her jaw and nods, continuing on that she won't stand in Sandy's way if he decides to take her case. He tells her that he's not going to take the case, and when she protests, "Not because of me," he almost shouts, "Of course it's because of you," before backing off that he's not going to mess with his wife on Valentine's Day. She tells him that she's selfishly happy, and he quickly changes the subject to request of Kirsten that she find a restaurant that still has a reservation available for dinner tomorrow, noting, "I don't want to eat takeout on Valentine's Day." Of course you do! You love eating takeout every day! You're Sandy Cohen! You! Clone! Go find Sandy! She asks him what he wants, and he tells her that he wants "a view of the ocean and an overpriced price fixe menu." She suggests "The Arches," which I briefly think means McDonald's, which my friends and I often refer to "that charming little Irish bistro" when we're on our way there and we're trying not to feel guilty about it.
Oh, god. Here we go. Alex chills at the Haaaaaate Shop, lesbionically stapling fliers to a wall. Marissa flits around in the background, asking if she should make more copies. Alex tells her she doesn't need to stick around (translation: GO AWAY GO AWAY GO GO GO GO SERIOUSLY DO IT AND TAKE YOUR SHITTY ACTING WITH YOU, SLAVE) all the time, but Marissa returns to the old saw of wanting to avoid her family as stringently as possible. Alex says that she responds to her own horrible mother by going all placid on her and responding, "Interesting idea, Mom. I'll give that some thought" to everything her mother says. You know what? I side with the mother on this one. Marissa slurs that anyone who can make her mother even crazier gets a free dinner, which I think might have been an invitation to something, but I'm totally not sure what. Chaste lesbian kissing, perhaps? Alex accepts this vague invitation, but says that she won't do it the following evening because she thinks first dates on Valentine's Day are "a jinx." You know what I think is a jinx? First dates WITH MY MOM.Zach paces nervously around an office lobby festooned with cartoon characters. Seth, in a delicious bit of foreshadowing, tells Zach that he needs to relax. Summer excuses herself to the bathroom to floss (been there), and Zach barely waits until she's out of earshot before proclaiming, "She's so OCD. Backpacking with her is gonna be a nightmare." Seth is all, "Backpacking?" and Zach explains that his sister is getting married in Tuscany, and Summer is coming along as his date. When? After school? Is this meeting on a weekday? Why were they allowed to miss school for it? Because it can't be on a weekend, because adult normal people in offices aren't much for scheduling meetings on weekends. Just saying. Anyway, a lovely assistant comes running out and asks if they're there to pitch to Mr. Bernstein, and Zach jumps up all eager because of the upcoming juxtaposition of the whole thing. We learn that the aforementioned Mr. Bernstein is late returning from Japan and that they'll be staying the night in San Diego. The Germans discovered it in 1904, and they called it "San Diego," which in German means "whale's vagina."
Ryan walks with some trepidation up to a closed door. Lindsay electric cattle prods him onwards, and we are soon back in the cold, damp lair of Caleb Nichol. Caleb plays a round of pool because of the foreshadowing, and Ryan tells him, "I came by to say hello." Caleb counsels, "Call me Caleb." Things are going well! Ryan banters, "You play pool?" and Caleb shoots it down: "No, my first time." Then why the pool table in your…oh, I get it! You're a funny pool player! As Caleb sinks ball after ball -- and once, I think, the same ball twice -- Ryan says that he's there to apologize. Caleb is on that: "Thank you, Ryan. I realize it wasn't easy for you to string so many words together." Ryan does a perfunctory, "Excuse me?" and Caleb says that he's not used to hearing Ryan talk. Not a bad jibe in and of itself, but again, it's right out of the first season playbook, so it doesn't really apply anymore. Ryan notes that maybe he just doesn't have that much to say to Caleb, and Caleb suggests, "How about 'thank you'?" For what? "For the fine education you're getting." They go to public school. ["They don't, but even if they did, maybe Caleb could argue that his taxes pay for it?" -- Wing Chun] "For the roof over your head." Not your house. Ryan says that Caleb treats him like a criminal, and Caleb does a slam dunk: "You are a criminal." He reminds Ryan that Sandy is the only reason he's not in jail, and Ryan unsmartly does not remind Caleb that the same is true about him. Ryan retorts that clearly this was a waste of time, and on the other side of the door we find Lindsay waiting anxiously. Ryan tells her, "There's always Valentine's Day." Don't threaten us like that, show.
Zach, Summer, and Seth enter their hotel room to discover that it is two adjoining rooms, each one with a bed of its own. Seth nervously looks into his own room and thinks about the boom boom boom that could be going on, right on the other side. Again, someone ask whose parents gave them permission to go on this trip.Well, here's one person we could ask. Sandy meets Rebecca's Father on the pier and hands him a cup of coffee, which the old man refuses. He says all he drinks now is green tea, because he's sick and he's dying and we get it and yeesh. They reminisce about the old times that have been completely manufactured lo these last few weeks, Rebecca's Father remembering, "I thought you were prepping me for father-in-law duty. Then everything changed." He apologizes for jumping ship on the case, but Rebecca's Father promises that everything will work out. He changes the subject again to give the man some space to die with dignity (spoiler!), asking him what he's drinking if not coffee. Apparently, magical elves just recently invented a beverage called "green tea," which is tea, but green. Sandy tells him that there's a café just down the pier and that he's going to go get some more of this magical so-called "green tea." But Sandy, he just said he already had some, so there's no need to…Sandy?
Seth sits on the bed in between a very bored-looking Summer and Zach, watching horror movies and jumping up and down like he has ADD and ADHD, its hyperactive cousin. Zach suggests they get to sleep because of their early pitch, but Seth is all, "Why don't we watch another movie? I think Van Helsing is on Pay Per View." And after that? The Pacifier. In a little impromptu thing called "The Two Worst Movies Ever Film Festival." But Zach and Summer are "pretty tired," so they usher Seth out of the room. He stalls by suggesting they invent "a secret knock" in case someone needs something. Knock knock. Who's there? Shut up, Seth Cohen. That's really all I have so far.
Sandy returns to the pier. Rebecca's father is dead. So much for the manifold curing benefits of green tea. New tagline for the Trader Joe's crowd: green tea STRIKES YOU DEAD.
And that cup is seriously some shitty Styrofoam Aramark thing from the craft services table. Okay. I swear I'm done talking about green tea now.
So there was, I guess, a burial at sea? I don't know how else to explain that it is now morning (Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! I mean, except to the dead guy), and we pop in on Sandy and Rebecca standing at the shore, solemnly overlooking the water. They hold hands. And then they hug. And then her father appears just short of the horizon, yelling, "I was just sleeping, but I'm not…glub!" All of the happened except for the last sentence.
Tap tap tap tappity tap. Seth is nervous! I would be too, if I'd inexplicably missed so much school. We're back in the offices of This Episode's Half-Baked C-Story Productions, where the dynamic has shifted, Zach and Summer sitting on a plush couch several hundred feet away from a fidgeting Seth. Tap tap tap. Slap smack skip. Coffee coffee coffee. You do the hokey-pokey and you turn yourself around. And that's what it's all about! Zach notes that Seth looks "kind of spent," and Summer asks if he slept at all. Seth taps and kind of raps along, "I got a solid / fifteen / minutes. They say that's all / you need." It's not bad. It's better than any of the fly-by-night bullshit bands who have appeared on this show, in the opening credits or otherwise. Except The Thrills. Them I like. Seth giggles ominously and supposes that they didn't sleep too well either, but Summer's response is soon to be cut off by the appearance of the mythical Mr. Bernstein, who is clearly a hip businessman because he wears a sportsjacket over a t-shirt. Whoo-hoo! Rock AND roll! Bernstein seriously needs a heavy metal guitar riff that plays from seeming nowhere whenever someone says his name. Hey! It's Bernstein! Beedle-eedle-eedle-eedle-eeeee, BOUM! Like that.Berstein (Beedle-eedle-eedle-eedle-eeeee, BOUM!) introduces himself and beckons the children into his office. A quick cut later and we're inside, Bernstein (Beedle-eedle-eedle-eedle-eeeee, BOUM!) pouring himself some coffee and telling the three that he's read the treatment. And? AND? "And I think it's interesting." ROCK AND ROLL! They sit down across a glass table from one another, Seth launching in all whacked out, "Thank you. And we like your jacket." No, you don't. Creative enfant terrible that he is, Bernstein (Beedle-eedle-eedle-eedle-eeeee, BOUM!) has some tweaks of his own. First of all, he tells them, "Putting pretty people by the beach is not enough for me." Two seasons in, sir, the viewers of The O.C. have a response to this: TELL US ABOUT IT. He wants more. But what? Seth has got this all figured out, rising and pacing, telling the room that he wants to take them "to the white-hot center of the comic." A love story. Seth says yes. Zach and Summer say no. Seth barrels on that, even if no one else can see it, it's there. Hey, I think he's talking about…wait, maybe I DON'T know. Nah. I totally know. And that love story will be between The Ironist and Little Miss Vixen. Wait, wait…I think I know what he's getting at here. Bernstein (Beedle-eedle-eedle-eedle-eeeee, BOUM!) deems this "an interesting approach," and Summer and Zach launch in again to say that they haven't discussed anything like this. Seth continues that if the two could put their differences and bickering aside for one issue -- "even though the readers find it adorable" -- they'd see they were perfect for one another. We don't find it that adorable these days. We find it kind of grating. Seems like the classy thing to do would have been not to call attention to it. Bernstein (Beedle-eedle-eedle-eedle-eeeee, BOUM!) shifts uncomfortably as Seth pours himself some more coffee. Honestly, how tired do you have to be to let something like this happen? Cohen should have stuck to the green tea. Bernstein (Beedle-eedle-eedle-eedle-eeeee, BOUM!) says that the concept shows some promise, but that he can see the three of them are not ready to work as partners. He takes his leave with the parting shot, "Get back to me after high school." Which they'll never graduate if hotshot comic book producers keep pulling them randomly out of school for two days of meetings in the middle of the week. But that's what rock star comic book publishers do! One last encore! Flick those lighters! Here it comes! Beedle-eedle-eedle-eedle-eeeee, BOUM! Play "Freebird"!
International House of Cohen Cakes. Sandy returns home to tell Kirsten of Max's death. He comforts her, as if she cares, "He didn't suffer." Oh, please. The man was reduced to green tea. He suffered plenty. Kirsten pretends to feel really bad. He tells her he still wants to go out tonight, saying that he doesn't like how things are right now. Kirsten agrees. We're right behind you. He tells her that he's going to take "a power nap," and when he wakes up he wants to see her "dolled up" in her Valentine's finest. What time is it supposed to be right now?Ryan's at Lindsay's door again, Ryan telling her he wants one more chance with Caleb. No! He's mean and he hates you. It's over. Caleb is standing there when Ryan enters, and he's as happy as we are to return to this: "Oh, great. You're back." Exactly. Ryan requests a few moments alone with Caleb in his study, and they step inside to find Ryan's indecent proposal about the pool table in the office: "I'll make you a bet. If you win, I'll stay out of your way. But if I win, you have to accept me as Lindsay's boyfriend." Oh, there's an O.C. story meeting I'm sorry to have missed. So you think they were like, "What feats of strength could the virile young chap challenge the forbidding old man at? Maybe there can be a room in the house with just a bucking bronco! Or an actual bull! Or slides made of razor blades that lead down into pools of pure alcohol. Wait! No! I GOT IT!" And then, in awed unison, "Pool." Caleb seems to think the idea is kind of stupid as well, but having a character find your writing stupid does not make your writing any less stupid. He asks, "What is this, The Color of Money?" Check out the big brain on Caleb! He's a regular pop culture maven, isn't he? Look at him, kicking it movie-style. I'll bet that day alone, Caleb also found time to sneak into conversation the barbed quips, "What is this, Are We There Yet?" and "What is this, Pooh's Humpalump Movie?" Take that, limo chauffeur and errant gardener, respectively!
Yeah, I don't know about this scene at all. Julie and Marissa are eating (well, they're at dinner, anyway) at a fahhhncy restaurant, Julie trying small talk and Marissa slurring, "Why don't you just cut to the chase." Julie says that it's not about anything and that she's just happy to be at dinner with her daughter, but Marissa's not buying it because the script told her not to. Julie frets that her relationship with Caleb might not make it, but she adds as a softening agent, "but I could never handle losing you." Marissa tells her, "I almost believe you," and when she says it, I almost believe her. Almost. Julie takes Marissa's hand and keeps on, "You and me, we need to play our cards right." She's launched the magazine and now she just wants a little more of the company. She tells Marissa that if they "play happy family for just a few more months," and then she'll be able to make her move. Marissa tells Julie that she's "unbelievable" in a way that means either good or bad, and Julie says that if Marissa doesn't want her inheritance going to Lindsay, she'll fall in line. Marissa collects herself and remembers the advice her future lesbian kiss girlfriend gives her, telling her mother, "That's an interesting idea, Mom. I'll think about it." Man. She really is completely and entirely devoid of talent. And I don't even mean that in a bad way anymore. It's really quite impressively epic.
Seth sits alone on his hotel bed (sorry, but if Wildstorm can't afford three rooms for them, they also can't afford a checkout time nine hours after checkout, and with a morning meeting and a trip only back to L.A., it is inconceivable that the company would book the room for them for an additional night), and Summer is soon to enter. She sits down to him and asks, "Okay, Cohen, you want to explain that meltdown before?" He sits in an I'm-dumb-and-all-of-my-decisions-are-bad-ones silence, and she tells him that if he has something to say, this is his chance. He tells her that he's decided to lay off the caffeine forever, and she responds, "Fine. But don't say I didn't ask." Zach lumbers [ADVERB]-ily around in the adjoining room, finally coming and in asking if they're ready to go. Seth says that he thinks he might just take the bus, and Zach shoots back a cold, "Fine with me," adding that now that they're not taking their child home with them, they might as well just stay in the room for an extra night, seeing as it is Valentine's Day and all. Seth ambles out. Sad looks abound, mostly from Seth.Sandy puts on a tie and prepares for the noose to tighten even further around his marriage. His cell phone rings, and he inadvisably answers it to find Rebecca on the other end. She tells him that she had expected his voicemail, and that she didn't want to disappear without saying goodbye. But she is disappearing, and she begs, "Don't try to talk me out of it." Ooooo…kaaaaay… She tells him that her chances of "getting off" are slim, and as long as she keeps dividing his attention from his wife's, so are Sandy's chances, really. He asks if it's worth trying, and she says she doesn't think so now that her father has had his green tea burial. She says she's leaving tonight and asks if there's a chance he could say goodbye in person. No. There is not. Go away, Kim Delaney, and take your homewrecking revolutionary hoodoo with you. Kirsten walks into the room looking radiant in her evening finery just at this moment, and Sandy tells Rebecca, "Let me get back to you." Sandy explains to her that Rebecca is leaving for "god knows where," and Kirsten again says that she won't try and stop him. Try and stop him! He leaves, telling her, "I'll be right back" in that ironic horror movie way that means he's about to have his head sliced off by a haunted garage door.
Go Greyhound. And leave the driving to…hey, where is everyone? Seth sits alone on a bus because every single person between San Diego and Orange County has a car except for him right now. Meanwhile, back in the hotel room, Zach tells Summer, "I think we actually salvaged Valentine's Day." Summer says that Cohen "did his best to destroy it," and Zach counsels her, "I don't think he's ever gonna get over you." Summer says those are his issues, not hers, adding, "Fate handed us this dream date." Of being in a hotel room in San Diego? Dream come true, y'all. All of which is a big prelude for Summer to suggest that they "make the most of it." I think she means s-e-x. He tells her that, before they do anything, he has to tell her something, a potential plot breakthrough cock-blocked by the sound of a ringing cell phone. Maybe it's someone's combined set of parents, asking where the hell they're been for the past forty-eight hours. He asks who it is and she tells him, "It doesn't matter," and we cut back to Seth on the bus, listening to Summer's voicemail. He does not leave a message. What's Zach's secret? Back at the hotel, Zach is assumedly explaining his mysterious third nipple to Summer.
Pool fight! Caleb misses. Ryan asks him if he's worried that he's about to lose, and Caleb says, "You're a hothead, Ryan. Pool takes a steady hand." Ryan says he has a steady hand, which inspires Caleb to lapse back into his Ryan Reform stump speech, saying that Ryan's always getting into trouble, getting into fights, impregnating teenage girls, and so on. Ryan chides, "I know what you're trying to do," before falling for exactly what Caleb was trying to do, scratching the cue ball into the corner pocket. Caleb takes aim, saying that though this was an affectionate gesture to win Lindsay through the art of duel, ultimately she would choose her father. Yes, yes. We've gone through all this before. Caleb misses again, and Ryan sinks the stripe-y orange one. And then the magic 8-ball. Victory is his! Caleb discounts the victory, noting, "Maybe this is how you settle things where you come from…but in real life, it takes more than that." But Ryan knows he hath bested the father in this du-el! He opens the door and tells an expectant Lindsay, "We're done." She enters the room and tells them she had started to worry about them, and Caleb tells them, "Enjoy your date. It's on me." But Ryan volleys the ball back over the net, because if this isn't a time for weird sports metaphors, ain't no time for weird sports metaphors. His parting shot? "Maybe rent a movie or something. I hear The Color of Money is pretty good." Pool at ten paces. Wow.Kirsten cancels her dinner reservation as, back in Playa, Rebecca tells Sandy that it's uncharacteristic of him to bail on his wife on Valentine's Day. He tells her that he has to go, but then notes he's already missed the reservation. Her horrible solution? "So stay here." I do not like this woman. He tells her that he's going to miss her all over again, and she tells her that she wishes she could take back everything that happened. Sandy whispers, "Me too," and then kisses her. No tongues, but, y'know, that's still pretty bad.
Seth sits alone at the dinner, and Ryan is soon to join him. Ryan says that he's sorry Seth's Valentine's Day was "terrible," but Seth upgrades it to "catastrophic," reminding us that he blew it with the comic book and humiliated himself in front of Summer. Ryan notes that this is probably all for the best since she's, y'know, with Zach anyway, and Seth says that he deserves her and that clearly "he got the universe on his side." Totally. Blame the universe. I'm sure you won't be single for long.
Lesbian kiss, anyone? Oh, very well! Marissa walks into the Haaaaaaaate Shop and finds Alex, as per usual, as its only employee. Marissa recaps her horrible mom dinner (didn't seem that bad to me), but says that it was all right because she knew she could go there after and see Alex. "Not that I want to put any pressure on you. It's just how I feel." It's not. It's totally not how you feel at all. Alex asks spontaneously, "Are you in the mood for the beach? It's almost time." Time for what? "For the tide to change." Geddit? DO YA? Alex says that this is "a little ritual" she has for when something major is about to happen in her life. Marissa reminds Alex that she said there was no dating on Valentine's Day, and Alex exclaims, "Screw it." She is such a tough girl.
Kirsten sits alone again, staring into the void of her crumbling marriage. Sandy walks down the hallway toward to bedroom, and she looks right at him, standing up, walking, walking, walking. She closes the door in his face. Finally.
Seth and Ryan walk down the pier, Seth noticing the people around them and calling them "normal, non-traumatized people." He asks Ryan, "Think we're ever have that?" Ryan responds, "No." That's right. Those are people are all the rest of us. And we can't possibly understand Seth Cohen's pain.
I love how this supposed "sweeps stunt" has been in the offing for, quite literally, months now, and yet there's literally no spin on it at all. They don't kiss and then get spotted by a passing Seth and Ryan. They don't kiss and then get whisked off by the tide. They don't kiss and then get eaten by a giant bear. They just sit at the water and look out. Out of nowhere, Alex notes, "Tide just turned." Thanks, Magellan. How did she know that? Anyway, it's a good line. I would try it, but I live kind of far from the beach. I'd have to, like, get on a highway. It would all be very unromantic. Just like this wildly awkward kiss. I'm so glad this episode is [WORD THE RHYMES WITH "CLOVER"].