Cohen Kitchen: Sixth Time's Twice The Charm. Kirsten Cohen's soul is as empty as the glass of tomato juice in front of her, and so she fills the void with vodka. Seriously -- in the glass is seriously a splash or three of the red stuff at most, and then a hearty helping of spite Stoli. From the hall, Sandy yells a question about the paper, which sends his wife scurrying back to the fridge to hide the secret ingredient of her homemade V8. Sandy enters, asking whether he looks anything like Tony Blair. The answer is no. Tony Blair only dreams of having eyebrows that command that much respect. One wiggle, and he'd own France. "You have nicer hair," Kirsten answers correctly. "What are you drinking?" he asks. Kirsten mutters something about tomato juice and antioxidants. I'm curious as to why she couldn't just improvise with orange juice, rather than buying a suspicious new beverage that would raise flags as red as the fruit that spawned it. As Kirsten leans wearily against the counter, Sandy cheerfully suggests a weekend in Palm Springs. She stares to hedge, but is saved by the hellions: "You asked my opinion," Ryan defends himself, entering the kitchen. "I just really wanted you to agree with me, man," Seth sighs. He explains to the 'rents that he's debating whether to confess to Summer about his spring break scandal in Miami. Kirsten wonders why, exactly, Seth would want to share this with Summer. Kirsten and Sandy are so chill. My parents would be like, "NEVER SPEAK AGAIN OF THE LICKING." Seth pretends that his conscience is gnawing at him; Ryan adds that the nationally televised aspect of Seth's indiscretion makes it more urgent to tell the truth. "Believe me, when you start hiding things, that's when the trouble starts," Sandy says wisely, not realizing that his verbal arrows are piercing the spot where Kirsten's soul would be, were it not crawling down a bottle of Smirnoff right about now. Although maybe guilt penetrates booze fogs, because she does look like she's about to puke into her tomato-tini.
Ryan and Seth buzz off to school, and then something incongruous happens: Sandy says, "Well, there goes the weekend." Unless he thinks Seth's telling Summer is going to keep them chained to the house while monitoring the aftermath of the explosion, then I think the editors must have had to chop part of the scene for time, but couldn't do it in a way that the dialogue flowed. I'm thinking maybe the missing part is Seth talking about his comic launch on Saturday, which would bone their Palm Springs plan -- and sensibly prompt both Sandy's sentence and Kirsten's reply: she grudgingly offers to take Monday off so that they can drive to the resort on Sunday. "You're right. We need this," she says heavily, crossing to put her glass in the sink without rinsing it out. She's an amateur boozehound. After she leaves, Sandy stares thoughtfully at the glass, then picks it up and sniffs it. From the expression on his face, he whiffs her secret, and I don't mean the kind that's pH balanced for a woman. I was always told vodka doesn't have a smell, and I just believed it without actually paying attention to whether that's true. ["Me too -- I thought that was the whole reason alcoholics favour it." -- Wing Chun] So when I saw this scene I went and stuck my nose in the bottle of Skyy that's in my freezer. Couldn't smell a thing. Either Sandy has an overdeveloped nose, I have an underdeveloped one -- or Kirsten is drinking some seriously skanky well vodka that belongs only in a plastic bottle.
Marissa looks kind of cute as she gets ready for school, although the shoulders of her orangy-tweed blazer skew slightly toward "linebacker." As she looks in the mirror, she realizes that her outfit exposes the ugly and painful-looking red mark on her chest. She panics, because in addition to being a loud memento of her ordeal with Trey, it also, like, totally clashes with the rest of her outfit. At that moment, Trey calls, begging her not to hang up; Marissa ignores him and ends the call after ordering him never to contact her again.
Cut to Trey's den of sin. He's brooding in the Atwood manner to which we've become accustomed, wondering why Ryan got the heart of gold and he's stuck with one of gold-plated tar. Jess the Drug Ho wanders out from the bedroom and jealously notes, "Guess she didn't want to chat." She then acts surprised to see Trey's head wound, asking, "What happened? Stable boy get fresh with the princess?" She must have been really coked out if she spent the night there -- and God knows how much other time since the last episode -- and never noticed that her sex toy was bleeding from the head. Maybe that's just the way she rolls. Trey wonders pointedly whether Jess has school that day. (I guess a few days have passed, at least; if the Cohens were in Miami for a weekend, which I think was the plan, then Trey and Marissa have done a bang-up job avoiding Ryan for the rest of the Spring Break week.) Jess puts the moves on Trey, but he jerks away. Jess purrs that it's a rare chick who not only lets him call another girl, but still wants to nail him again after he hangs up. I didn't realize she invented dysfunction. Hope she filed a patent. "You sure you're not taking me for granted?" she pants. Trey opens the door and levels her with "We both know what this is." Jess refuses to be down for the count, though, pointing out that they know two things for sure: that she isn't Marissa, and that -- and here, she touches his wound -- she "only leaves [her] marks on [his] back." Then she assaults Trey with her tongue and leaves.
As the intro to a very fine Shout Out Louds song plays, Seth sees Summer studying on one of the plush couches in the school's coffee shop, and plucks up the guts to plop down to her. He starts to blurt out his transgression, but lo and behold, Summer already knows: "We do have cable." Ah, but apparently, since you didn't turn off the show before it got that far, you don't have taste. Seth prepares himself for her anger, but she is blasé about it, choosing to get up and refill her coffee rather than spew hot bile in public. Summer sighs ruefully that she thought things were going to be different this time. "But you haven't changed," she says. "You found new and even more public ways of disappointing me." Were he real, this is where Ross Geller -- a.k.a. Seth, in ten years -- would stand up and scream, "YOU WERE ON A BREAK!" Summer rides her high horse back over toward the couch, pausing only to hit Seth with the fact that she kissed Zach after she saw Seth licking Mary-Sue. "That's okay, you see me and you kissed Zach...what else happened?" Seth gulps. Summer shrugs, "Nothing...much." Oooh, evil. Seth is confused, which is what Summer wants him to be, and asks what that means. "I don't know," Summer says frankly, concluding, "It shouldn't be this hard." No, and Seth shouldn't take this from you, either. Seth has acted like a complete and utter assface, so believe me, I don't want to sympathize with him at ALL, but Summer has been so deluded and bratty and unsupportive that she is not in the least bit above reproach here. And yet, everyone acts like she is. What's in her perfume? I want some.
Julie is cooking merrily in her kitchen, wearing a pink and green Williams-Sonoma apron. I feel like the real Julie Cooper would rather cook nude in a see-through plastic number, but, in a fit of pique at learning The Naked Chef is not as advertised, she probably settled for whatever was closest to her. As Caleb enters, Julie brightly offers him a plate of Eggs Benedict. Caleb glares at it and says he already ate. "Consider this a mid-morning snack," she attempts. "I was going to give it to you at 7, but it took a little longer than I thought." Caleb snorts that he can't believe she spent two hours making a plate of cholesterol for a man with a heart condition. Julie tersely points out that this is what's called "making an effort," and that if Caleb would take his Centrum Silver once in a while, his eyesight and perception skills might improve enough that he could recognize that. Caleb spits that it's a wasted effort, thoroughly confusing Julie and everyone else who watched him agree not to divorce her. "Why do I even try?" she shouts. Caleb coldly says that he asks himself the same thing. Julie angrily throws out the eggs, which is just wrong, because it's not their fault.
Marissa is digging into her locker when Ryan taps her on the shoulder. She jumps ten feet and immediately reaches to tug her blazer over the raspberry on her chest, because of course she didn't change her clothes to put on something that would cover it. That may be because she will need an entirely new wardrobe for that. Marissa pretends she's just not used to "the hallway kiss," and asks about Miami, pulling at her collar the whole time. Ryan shrugs that Miami and The O.C. aren't that different, and asks about her weekend. Spring Break was just a weekend? No. "Business as usual," Marissa lies. Ryan still wants to go on their date this weekend, and Marissa begins evasive action with a lie about shopping with Julie, but can't bring herself to cancel. "Let's do something special," Ryan says, asking for suggestions. Marissa says she can't think of anything special, then amends it at the sight of his disappointed face: "I mean, nothing in particular. It'll be special." Then she escapes with a chaste kiss to Ryan's cheek, leaving him rather confused, because last he saw her, she shoved her tongue so far down his throat that she tasted his breakfast.
Kirsten's receptionist enters her office with a wrapped gift they found in Carter's office, along with a note addressed to her. Kirsten pretends not to be dying inside until her assistant is safely away; when she's alone, her face and heart fall, and she gazes at the box as if Carter will pop out naked and dance an erotic jig. As she caresses it, we see that it's from the Featherbrook winery gift shop.
Zach takes Summer aside in the hallway to talk to her. "I told Seth everything," she confesses. Zach wants to know if the kiss was a revenge thing, or more; Summer admits that a huge part of it was to get back at Seth for eating a Mary-Sue sundae, but that there might be more to it as well. Seth spies them and barges in on their private confab. "Well, well, well, if it isn't my old friend the Big Fat Traitor," Seth spits. When Zach opens his mouth, Seth tells him to stuff his apology. Ah, but: "It's not an apology. I'm quitting the comic," Zach replies. Seth and Summer are stunned. Zach masterfully adds, "It's caused too many problems between me and Summer. It's not worth it." Except it's caused zero problems between you and Summer, because (a) there is no you and Summer, and (b) you've spent all your spare time kissing her bony behind. Only an O.C.-style business brain could add nothing and nothing, and get "too many." Seth is galled, because the comic launch is Saturday, and even Summer chimes in that it means too much to Zach for him to back out now. Oh no she DI-IN'T. Just WHERE was this support when it was her actual boyfriend in need of it? Yes, he acted like a pisspot, but taking the high road would've made her so rootable. I can only assume that Summer avoided it because she thinks that phrase has something to do with drugs. Zach coos that the comic doesn't mean as much to him as Summer does, and as she melts a little bit, Seth rolls his eyes so hard that he sees spots. Summer collects herself and leaves in a daze.
Seth turns on Zach. "I see what you're doing," he growls. "Let me tell you something: It's not going to work. She will see it for the cheap ploy that it is...eventually." Heh. Zach shrugs that he likes Seth, but that he will gladly torch their friendship with the flames of his lust for Summer. His loins may be virginal, but they're just as white-hot as the jock's. Seth can't believe Zach isn't Mr. Nice Guy. "Wake up," Zach spits. "I'm a water-polo player. We're never nice." After rewinding this a few times, I'm going to guess that this line was supposed to be sarcastically delivered as a reference to the comic, which would make it less jarring and out of character; however, the otherwise cute-if-feather-haired Michael Cassidy missed this mark in his delivery, which just sounds sincere and nasty. I could be wrong, but something doesn't add up, and I think it's the intent and execution. Anyway, Seth does indeed acknowledge that he doesn't have to add Zach into the comic because he's already there as the demonic water-polo player, The Ironist's nemesis. Then, in the most contrived line ever: "It's going to take more than quick quips and pop-culture-laden bromides to win Little Miss Vixen," Zach says, and I would give anything to see the outtakes on that one. You can see the hamster trying so hard not to slip on the banana peel someone threw at his wheel. As the former pals declare war, they turn away and burst dramatically through the swinging doors, which would have been a perfect exit for one of them -- but not both, since they now have to walk alongside each other. Hee. There is an awkward silence, with glaring. "My locker is this way," Seth huffs. "So's mine," Zach sneers. "Fine," Seth spits. That bit was cute.
Marissa, dripping in gold lamé accessories, walks outside and spies Trey hanging around the front of the school. She balks and hides behind a tree. Summer spots her. "What are you doing?" she asks, confused. Marissa constructs a feeble excuse about needing a ride because she has no gas, but wanting to be picked up around back so that she can go fetch a book she left inside. Summer accepts this and bounces off to her car as Marissa takes a long, frightened look at Trey. He sits on the bench and fidgets. You'd think an Atwood would be better at playing it cool.
Morning. Kirsten shuffles into the kitchen in an unflattering skirt and jumps when she sees Sandy. "I thought you'd gone," she says. Sandy holds up a glass. "I hope you don't mind -- I finished the tomato juice," he says. I think this is pointed, in that he'd finished a glass she left lying around, and thus knew it was spiked. But I'm not totally sure, because if he tasted that thing, there's no way he wouldn't mention to her that her breath alone could get a man drunk. Sandy smiles that he made reservations at a kick-ass romantic place in Palm Springs, and Kirsten immediately retreats into her shell, wringing her hands and saying she can't possibly take off Monday. "Maybe in a couple weeks," she says, arranging her features into a smile. "We'll talk tonight." She turns to leave. "What, I don't get a kiss?" Sandy asks, and by his tone, you can tell he's noticed -- FINALLY -- that something is amiss. Kirsten turns. "Of course," she says, looking slightly pained. She kisses his cheek distantly; as she pulls away, Sandy fingers a delicate gold charm around her neck and recognizes that it's new. "I got it at Featherbrook," she lies. He rubs it and then lets it drop. "It suits you," he says, smiling. He kisses her one more time, and she leaves, hands still betraying her angst. Sandy's face falls as he watches her go.
Zach slides into a booth at the diner, where Reed and Seth are waiting for him. Seth slurps soda through a straw, his eyes narrowed. Zach lays it on Reed that he only came to their meeting about the launch to tell her that he's crapping out. Reed is taken aback, and Seth feigns being shocked and appalled. Hee. Zach smoothly tells her it's for personal reasons that Seth can fill her in on, and says he simply wanted to tell her this face-to-face. His self-assured attitude is tinged with enough martyrdom that it satisfies me greatly when Reed threatens to sic a pack of rabid lawyers on his ass if he so much as sneezes in a way that goes against their contract. "I know you're young and this is a comic book, and it's fun, fun, fun...[but] unless you want to deal with a lawsuit for the four years, I suggest you stay where you are, you order a sandwich, and let's go over the details of the launch," she intones, her eyes flinty. Seth pantomimes playing the recorder -- rather than the obvious violins -- with his straw, which is a little Willy Wonka of him, but in a way that's appropriate. "You did this," Zach spits. "Did you threaten to pull out too, if she didn't force me back in?" Seth angelically denies any and all knowledge of anything. "I'm glad you're back in, if that's what's going on, but that is it," Seth shrugs mischievously. I can't believe Reed is willing to put up with either of these two clowns, although I suppose they can't be blamed for not taking it seriously, considering that she let one of them bring her to a high-school party. Reed glares at Zach and says sweetly, "What's it going to be, Gorgeous? Am I calling my lawyers, or are you going to order a crab sandwich?" Seth mouths, "Crab sandwich." So Jess pops in and immediately hands over a few pairs of her underwear to the kitchen staff.
Caleb is sitting at his desk, ostensibly working, when Julie arrives. "What's the heart-attack special of the day going to be? Deep-fried ribs?" he sasses. Oh, don't tease me, Caleb, you old brute. Julie acts unfazed, dropping a manila envelope on his desk that arrived at the house for him. She then asks him to go to counseling with her, because their marriage stinks and someone needs to, I quote, "penetrate that fortress of solitude you've erected." Well, props to him for being able to erect something. Caleb says that marriage counseling is the worst idea in the history of bad ideas, and that includes Kim Delaney. As Julie rattles off her frustration with him for ignoring both her cooking and her carnal advances, Caleb opens the envelope and studies its contents. He then changes his tune. "You may have a point. I've been letting you do all the work," he says. But rather than go to a counselor, he suggests dinner at The Arches. She kisses him on the cheek -- the spot du jour on this show -- and vows that they can make this work. As she trots out on cloud seven (as high as you can be in her situation), Caleb flips over the contents of the envelope and reveals that they are photos of Julie with Lance. Which are at least a week or so late in arriving, and which he should've just had sent to the office in the first place. But, I've split so many hairs over this show that my entire head of hair multiplied by six, so I'm going to let it go.
Kirsten, at home, calls out for Sandy. Nothing; she's alone. My notes again say that Kelly Rowan looks horrible in this skirt, which I've already said once but which apparently struck me very hard. I know she's very, very slim, yet she looks slightly pregnant here. Kirsten stares at the phone, fingering her Featherbrook necklace the way she wishes she could Carter's fluffy beard; she gives in to temptation and dials his number. He doesn't answer, so she leaves the following message: "Hi, Carter, it's...it's me. I, uh, wanted to thank you for the necklace. It's beautiful, and...[she breathes tearfully and shakes her head] I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called. Please don't call back." She hangs up and immediately hits the freezer for some Absolut Escapism.
At school, Jess watches Marissa wave at an approaching Ryan. So she waylays him, reintroducing herself as "Floater Girl," having apparently forgotten all about how Ryan completely knows who she is because he helped bust her dealer boyfriend. Marissa watches them, wearing her very best headband-scarf. I hate that modern fashion has led to me writing that sentence. Jess gives Ryan the fuck-me eyes as she tells him she and Trey have been hanging out a bit. "Just what he needs -- more trouble," Ryan sighs. Jess is flattered and gushes that Ryan might even be cuter than Trey. He's visibly uncomfortable and glances helplessly at Marissa, who shows her support by...leaving. That's an interesting message. "Oh, right, can't keep Marissa waiting," Jess says snidely. She licks her lips and asks to borrow a pen, shoving her hand into Ryan's pocket before he can stop her. She then does yank out a pen, proving that he wasn't just happy to see her. "Thanks, Ryan. You're a sport," she drools. Ryan looks around for the nearest lye shower and can't find one, so he bolts outside into the Newport sun to try burning off the germs.
Marissa finally bumps into Trey near her car; he grabs her arm. "Let go of me!" she yelps. Ryan catches up to them at that moment but somehow misses that rather flashy and loud display of rage, because he's suddenly stupid. Then he hugs Trey, whom he apparently hasn't seen in the many days since Miami, despite initially not wanting to leave him alone in Newport. Okay! If you like. Trey lies that he's just there to thank Marissa again for the Bait Shop gig. Ryan notices Trey's head wound, but buys the feeble fib that he banged his head. When Ryan suggests that they all go get a bite to eat, Marissa and Trey loudly object in the most awkward and obvious way possible. Ryan needs to invest in some lifts and platform shoes, so that fewer things will go so far over his head. Unconsciously touching the spot on her shirt that covers her wound -- nice touch by Mischa Barton -- Marissa pretends she has to go help Julie with something vague. Trey scampers. Ryan follows Marissa to her car to make sure she's okay, because she is acting odder than a balloon. Marissa insists that she's fine, so Ryan asks her to Seth's comic-book opening and then dinner. "Yeah, sure," Marissa says, with all the enthusiasm of a girl who's just been invited to the Future Ophthalmologists of America ice-cream social. "I promise I'll be in a better mood by then," she swears, pecking him chastely and patting his shoulder in maternal lack of interest. She leaves, and Ryan is confused. Again.
Kirsten has passed out on the living-room couch. Sandy arrives home and calls out that he made reservations at that new steak joint "with the really heavy silverware," which cracks me up. And yet makes me sad, because it sounds like a funny in-joke from a great Cohen Family night out, but I know such a dinner did not happen in recent times because they don't hang out together anymore. Boo. When he spies Kirsten, Sandy looks worried and picks up the empty glass at her feet. Again, he detects vodka. Gazing at her sadly for a second, he then scoops her up into his arms. "Let's get you in bed," he says softly.
The morning, Kirsten is snoozing away on her stomach as Sandy brings her breakfast in bed. "Rise and shine," he calls out gently. She flips her head around to check out her hangover breakfast, and he made a doozy: "Coffee, bacon, those little waffles you like, butter, two fried eggs, fruit and O.J. I call it The Whaler," he beams. Hmm, I do need a houseboy -- I should mail Sandy an application. To Kelly Rowan's credit, she's okay with the makeup folks letting her be clean-faced, and as such, a little rumpled. It works. Although where is the vomiting? Kirsten goes straight for the coffee as Sandy casually mentions how conked out she was when he came home. "I was exhausted. Long week," she says, only semi-convincingly. Sandy probes that it seemed like a tad more than tiredness. "I had a couple of drinks, so what?" Kirsten snaps. But Sandy isn't just referring to last night. Kirsten is furious that he's been watching her; she'd probably feel worse if she knew he hadn't noticed a damn thing amiss until the morning. Sandy asks if he should be concerned, and of course, Kirsten says no, but adds: "Maybe I've been drinking more than usual, but I'll cut down, okay?" She wants to close the subject, but Sandy wants to understand why his wife's been on a Grey Goose IV. He also might want to remind Kirsten that she has a son and a Ryan, either of whom could've seen her drooling through her drunk fog, but hey, whatever, she's not my wife. "Is it something at work? Are you taking on too much?" he asks. Nothing. "Is it that Carter left?" he pushes. Kirsten's head snaps up and she acts appalled, but of course, Sandy is simply referring to whether she's shouldering his workload. Kirsten's face turns hard and she says she's fine. "I'd appreciate it if you'd trust me," she spits. She heads to the shower without breakfast as a defeated Sandy heaves a sigh.
Ryan and Seth are playing a brand-new, exciting Star Wars game, which is in no way present in the show in connection with George Lucas's generous agreement to make a cameo. No sir. Seth and Ryan trash-talk amiably until Ryan throws his light saber at Seth's guy, killing him. Seth is stunned. "Too bad Marissa's not here -- ladies can't resist a young Jedi," Seth says. Ryan grunts, which is Atwood for, "Please ask me to articulate this noise, because I need the practice." Seth obliges, so Ryan explains that since he returned, she's been acting strange around him. Seth would suggest asking Summer to do some reconnaissance, but Summer is apparently off-limits until "phase two of Zach Attack is complete." He says that Ryan should ask Trey, but Ryan is more interested in the words "phase two." Seth explains that Zach's being sucked back into the comic does no good unless Summer finds out about it. "And it ain't like he's gonna tell her," Seth says astutely, because Zach is behaving like an asshat, and Seth wrote the instructional manual. Seth's phone rings; it's Geek Leon. "Excellent," Seth says, all Mr. Burns. "Is Guy Smiley still with her? ...Okay, stay put. No, no, Leon, you can't leave. I don't care if you have swim lessons." Heh. Seth rings off as Ryan hangs his head and begs Seth to tell him that he's not using the comic-book club to spy on Zach. Ryan should save himself the energy of expecting the worst from Seth, and instead actually jump to that conclusion right off the bat. Much easier.
Cut to a dork with binoculars trained on the diner window. Only a comic-book geek could do his spy work by successfully hiding himself behind a wooden pillar. Seth sprints up to him and whispers, "Are they still in there?" Leon says they just paid. "Is Zach really trying to destroy the club?" he asks, suspiciously. "What? Oh, uh, yeah, yeah, totally," Seth fumbles. Hee. Spy music plays throughout.
We then cut to Seth bumping into Zach and Summer, who takes Zach's arm in defiance. Seth casually tells Zach that Reed wants them at the launch half an hour early. "Hey, Dementia Boy, Zach quit your stupid comic book, remember?" Summer sneers triumphantly. Seth does a perfect act of "oops" innocence. Summer whirls on Zach. "I was going to tell you..." Zach says pathetically. She is furious. Seth feigns regret as he goes inside and slides into a booth, where he watches Summer read Zach the riot act. She's adorable and everything, but is her irrational temper and balls-in-a-vise approach to being a girlfriend really worth all this effort for Zach and Seth? Aren't there more fun places to put your balls when you're seventeen? Summer smacks Zach on the forehead and Seth looks scandalized and proud. Adam Brody was very funny in that sequence.
Trey unloads beer from the back of a van at the Bait Shop. Ryan strolls up and pretty much gets right to it: he wants to know if Marissa said anything last weekend that would explain her odd behavior. Trey says no, and then insists that he has to get back to work so that they don't think he's slacking. Ryan is left alone to chew on his thoughts for approximately one second, because Jess The Drug Ho has been reading Pop-Up Newport: How To Appear In A Scene Without Really Entering, and she's ready to put it to use. "Well, well, if it isn't baby brother," she purrs, bumping her chest up against him in what she imagines is a seductive way, but which looks more like she's gingerly celebrating a touchdown. Ryan sighs that whatever's up with her and Trey isn't as important as Trey getting his life together. "Come on, it's not like we're serious," Jess scoffs. "How could we be? He's completely obsessed with..." She stops calculatedly and then goes into a bit about how she's always fantasized about being with two brothers. "That's gonna stay a fantasy," Ryan says, to his credit looking totally skeeved out by her heinousness. "I get it," she says. "I used to think it was strange, too, but apparently, I'm not the only one into the brother thing." Then she slithers off, leaving Ryan to look as confused as we've come to expect at the end of every scene that features him.
Summer is going Brenda Walsh on all the mementos of her relationships: tossing things, tearing things in half. Buy stock in 3M, guys, because Summer's going to be investing in a lot of Scotch tape when she inevitably gets back with one of the gruesome twosome. Marissa storms in with shopping bags and starts to beg for help, but stops when she notices Summer's trash binge. "Reed can have them," Summer spits of Seth and Zach. Marissa sighs, then dumps out the clothes from her bags so that Summer can help her find the perfect outfit for her important date with Ryan. "Please, you could dress like Grimace and stop traffic," Summer says loyally. She pauses when she spies a photo of herself and Seth stuck to her mirror. Deciding that she looks super-hot in the photo, she rips it in half and puts her part of it back up, tossing the other half. Hee. Marissa starts holding up various shirts she could wear, and Summer, of course, immediately notices the massive red wound on her friend's chest. Because unlike Ryan, she can see past her own nose. And, in a moment I loved, Summer goes, "Coop, what were you doing? Playing rugby?" For some reason I just thought that was a really amusing response. Marissa lies that she slipped and fell. "On your collarbone?" Summer furrows. Why not? Look how far out that thing juts. Marissa changes the subject the best way she knows how: by activating Summer's jealous rage. "Who's Reed?" Marissa asks. "That busty comic-book tart that turned Seth into an egomaniac by agreeing to publish his graphic novel" -- okay, no evidence of that; he's a lunatic with poor judgment, yes, but he's not conceited -- "and then threatened to sue Zach if he pulled out of the comic," Summer rages. Pause. "Oh my God, this is so her fault!" Summer decides. She insists that before the graphic novel, no one was stupid or scheming or fighting. "Nobody messes with MY men but ME," she shouts. "It's ass-kicking time, Coop!" Then she looks at her somewhat puzzled friend and chucks a black shirt at her. "Wear the black -- he won't know what hit him," she says.
Julie shows up at Kirsten's house in a deliciously trampy sundress that looks fantastic on her. That woman belongs in Las Vegas. Kirsten offers her a drink. "Isn't it a little bit early?" Julie asks. "What do you want to talk about?" Kirsten replies. "Your father," Julie says. Kirsten deems it never too early to drink when talk of her father's sex life is on the table. Too right. She mixes up a vodka and orange juice -- eight parts vodka, half-part orange juice, just the way mama likes it. Julie wants to know if Caleb has said anything to Kirsten, because Julie wants the marriage to work but Caleb acts like she's an alien. Then she chokes on the Smirnoff special she's drinking. "How much vodka did you put in this?" she gasps. Kirsten shrugs. "Normal amount. Little less," she says flatly. Julie twigs that strange things are afoot at the Circle K: "Where's Sandy? Is everything all right? Did something happen, did you fight?" Kirsten denies it, but then sighs and says maybe they did fight; she's not sure any more. "It seems like we've been fighting since September," she says wearily, sitting on a bar stool. Julie freshly earns my love by saying, "Kirsten, I know I'm probably the last person in the world you want to bare your soul to, but it's gotta be better than getting smashed in the middle of the day. What happened?" I would love it so much if these two became unlikely friends. They're both great actresses, and the scenes they've had together where they quasi-bond are among my favorites of the season. Kirsten emptily stares straight ahead into middle distance as she says that first, the boys left, and she and Sandy stopped communicating. "Then, Rebecca Bloom came along and made things worse," Kirsten says, practically choking on the sound of that corpse's name. "And then, Carter," she exhales shakily. Julie observes helpfully that Carter was hot. "Something happened between me and Sandy," Kirsten says thoughtfully. "This wall came between us and Carter just...made me feel less alone. Like Sandy used to. And now he's gone." She drinks as Julie digests this. I wish we'd stuck around to see what advice she gave. She probably just poured Kirsten another drink and gave her Lance's number.
Reed arranges cut-outs of all the Atomic County characters at the store where they're launching The World's Fastest-Published Graphic Novel. What happened to those rewrites? Did they just go away? Seth crapped the whole thing out in, like, two months, and it's published? And his family never had a word to say about it? GRR. When the family talks, the show is better. You can have campy plots and still be true to that core concept of how cool the Cohens are as a unit. Ahem. Anyhoo, Summer stomps into the store and sasses, "I have a question: where's your cut-out? Or have they not made Super Bitch yet?" The look on her face is hilarious -- she is so proud of that burn, so sure it's going to slay Reed, and so oblivious that it's as scorching as a Ritz cracker. "You and your comic have turned those two idiots into complete...idiots!" Summer spits. Well, Seth was already at least halfway there, if not further. Reed doesn't much care. Summer announces that Reed will be sorry once Summer tells them that if either one of them so much as breathes a name beginning with "R," she'll never speak to them again. How does that skinny body support a head with such a heavy, bloated ego? Screw the Vixen stuff -- that's her superpower. Reed astutely decides to woo Summer by telling her that she's missing the big picture: Yes, Seth and Zach are the stars now, but once the book is a hit, it'll be Summer's face that everyone wants to see on magazine covers, because she is Little Miss Vixen. Reed tells her, "You are the Nico of the group," to which Summer replies haughtily that she doesn't get references from before 1990. Which is a funny line from Summer, well-delivered by Rachel Bilson, but that's still a very obscure reference for The O.C. It was probably Fun With Google day at the office. "What do you want, a career in fashion? Movies? This is your launching pad," Reed says, eyes flashing. "Do you really think I'll be able to control them once you have the limelight? It'll be your show!" Summer narrows her eyes and says she's well aware that Reed is manipulating her, but that she likes what she's hearing, so maybe they should keep talking.
Sunset. Ryan is in the Poolhouse of Pity when Marissa shows up, clad in a black top that has a plunging neckline narrow enough to cover her collarbone. It looks great on her. She nervously asks if that's appropriate for a comic-book launch, because she's never voluntarily dressed that normally in public. She smiles a little, and gives Ryan a proper kiss hello. When they part, Ryan asks if she's okay. Marissa responds with a harder kiss, throwing him down on the bed. "Why don't you tell me?" she teases. They start to make out in earnest, but once Ryan rolls her over and starts going to town, all Marissa can see and hear is Trey. She starts looking alarmed, pushing at him slightly, and then the illusion stops and she sees Ryan again, and kisses him again. Ryan, for his part, responds to this by looking confused, then smiling when she does and continuing to paw at her; she allows this until her weird flash. It goes on like this for a long time -- long enough that I think it's really, really weird that Ryan keeps trying to make out with her when half the time she's squirming and looking wigged out. I would think two of those push-pull moments would have been enough for him to sit up and ask her why she's engaging in a one-woman tug of war. Ultimately, Trey's voice gets too loud in her head, and Marissa rockets up to her feet and flees, mumbling, "I'm sorry, I can't do this...I thought I could, but it's been too long...too much has happened...I'm sorry!" Ryan is downright perplexed, and a little crushed, because he thought he got in some good practice on Lindsay.
Kirsten sits on the couch with a drink. It's a regular glass, and it's empty, so God knows what was in it. Sandy enters and exposits helpfully that Kirsten's car is in the shop, so he got her a rental. This is probably because the good company that makes Land Rovers doesn't want any of its vehicles to be engaged in a losing battle with a truck. That's not the greatest product placement: "Land Rover: We crumple on impact!" Sandy clears his throat and says they need to talk. "About us," he clarifies. Kirsten gets up and walks into the kitchen wordlessly, filling her glass with water. Unless she's wired it so that the purifier spouts Skyy. Sandy gives chase. "Did something happen between you and Carter?" he blurts. "Don't do it like this," Kirsten mumbles, emotionally spent. Sandy just wants to know. "Is that what you really think?" she asks. Way to deflect him, Kiki. Sandy outlines the logic: they were close, she was suffering, and Carter's sudden departure spawned a bender. Kirsten doesn't dispute him because she's not exactly going to tell him she's been bending on wine for longer than he knows. "Nothing happened -- the same way 'nothing happened' between you and Rebecca," she sasses. Sandy, somehow, manages to be surprised that she's stuck on that; he clearly doesn't understand how traumatic it would be if your husband started ignoring you for a jowly charisma void who looks embalmed. Kirsten can't believe his reaction. "AGAIN? Sandy, what do you think this is? What do you think Carter was about?" Kirsten squawks. Sandy wants her to lay it out for him. "YOU LEFT ME," Kirsten shouts. Sandy asks her point-blank if she had an affair with Carter. "You don't get it, do you?" she says sadly, shaking her head. She leaves and Sandy exhales. "No," he says softly, sadly. I liked that scene. I like that Kirsten wasn't able to forgive and forget, and that she and Sandy are having a hard time communicating about it; the whole thing feels sort of real. Even though I didn't like the fact of the Rebecca or Carter stories, I like that they're leading to bigger emotional hurdles for Kirsten and Sandy to scale together, rather than being swept under the rug with a hug and an apology.
Seth reads from the comic. He is boring. Apparently, he pilfered, "Welcome to Atomic County, bitch," because that's a climactic line from the demonic water-polo player. I wish Luke had shown up for this. I wish anyone else connected to these two characters had cared. Reed gets up and yanks Seth away from the microphone. "You've read for an hour and described every panel! You're finished!" she says through a fake smile. Seth plops down and snatches a bottle of water, which Zach decides is his; they grapple. "Why don't you get a haircut, okay? Everyone's a little sick of the Shaun Cassidy thing," Seth mutters. Sing it, brother. Reed sharply shushes them and thanks everyone for coming, announcing that, as an added bonus, everyone who gets a signed copy of the comic can pose for a photo with Little Miss Vixen. Summer struts out in big boots, pink tights, a black mini, a mask, and a sparkly corset, wielding a whip. All the comic-book geeks are thrilled. "Nice whip," manages Seth. "Yeeaaahh," Zach breathes. Oh, like they've never seen it before; she's been using it on them for months now.
Julie shows up at The Arches and gets a warm greeting from the maitre d', who tells her she looks beautiful and is probably wondering if it's kosher to have her autograph a copy of her movie. Caleb isn't there yet; as she beams and glitters and awaits him, a woman shows up and asks Julie to sign for a delivery. She's off her guard, so Julie signs and cheerfully opens the envelope. What's inside makes her eyes turn steely.
Armed with a killer bod and murderous rage, Julie stomps into Caleb's office: "You're divorcing me? You son of a bitch!" She can't believe he watched her scurry around trying to cook and clean and wear aprons, all to save something he was in negotiations to destroy. "I am going to make you PAY, pre-nup or not, I'll bleed you dry," she hisses. Caleb tosses the photos of her with Lance across his desk and encourages her to explain those before she makes any more idle threats. Julie is aghast that he had her followed, and stares almost uncomprehendingly at the pictures. Caleb tells her she's been "monitored" since before they started dating, so among other things, he knows all about Luke and Jimmy. Julie's jaw drops. "I mean, your daughter's boyfriend?" Caleb tsks amusingly. "Ex-boyfriend," Julie manages to murmur without closing her gaping mouth. Hee. Caleb says he was willing to give Julie a chance even with all that sordid stuff, but hooking up with her blackmailer was the straw that broke the geriatric camel's back. Julie tries to tell him that nothing happened, but Caleb snaps that he doesn't have the stomach for her denials, or for spicy food. "You have a week to find somewhere else to live," he says. "Then I want you and your daughter gone. Get out of my office." As Julie turns to leave, tears bubbling in her angry eyes, Caleb gleefully drives one last nail into the Cooper-Nichol coffin: "Oh, by the way, you're fired." Ouch. This show and Melinda Clarke are working well together, because they have me feeling sorry for Julie.
Summer poses with all the budding Atomic County fans, who are just glad to know at long last what a woman smells like. Nary a person who's important to Seth or Zach is here. Woo! Seth yanks Summer backstage. "What are you doing? I'm working," she says importantly. Seth apologizes for Miami and promises that he won't do it again. Summer is understandably unsympathetic to his promise that he won't eat whipped cream off a random girl ever again. Seth falls to his knees. "I'm an ass. I know that," Seth says. "And I know I don't deserve another shot. But I love you. And I think you love me too. Please." As Summer is about to answer, Zach interrupts them, furious that Seth is using this moment to his advantage. Seth taps Zach lightly to get him to scram; Zach pushes back. Seth wimpily pushes again. This leads to them all-out pouncing on each other, and not to make out, as we perhaps suspected early in the season when they were the cutest little comic-book couple on Earth. They roll through the curtain and get twisted up in it; through it, you can hear muffled grunts like, "Stop pinching me," and "Stop pulling my hair." I love a good wuss fight. They are now rolling around the store making quite a spectacle of themselves. Reed is horrified, as the audience watches with fascination as the comic itself comes to rather bizarre life. Displays everywhere are falling down and falling apart. Seth finally jerks himself upright out of the curtain, only to have his head clock Summer in the nose. As Seth turns around to attend to her, and Zach winds up and dings him on the head with a cut-out of The Ironist, a move that makes about three thousand statements -- large and small -- about Seth and the show. Reed tries to usher people out of the store as Summer impatiently screams and cracks the whip in Seth and Zach's direction. Panting, they stop grappling and demand that she choose between the two of them, because neither one of them wants to pay for spinal-implantation surgery. Summer stares at them and decides to pull a half-Kelly Taylor: "I choose neither!" As the guys choke on their shock, Reed hisses at them to clean up the mess they made.
Ryan tries to reach Marissa, but can't. Sandy knocks on the door and asks if everything is okay. "Marissa and I got in a fight about...I don't even know what," a puzzled Ryan tries to explain. Sandy figures it must be going around, and says he can't find Kirsten. He was hoping Ryan would tell her, if she comes home, that Sandy is trying to find her. Ryan hedges, because wants to go after Marissa. And then, finally, Ryan asks if it's okay that neither of them are going to Seth's comic book launch. No, actually, Ryan, it isn't. It is shitty of you. Hear me, Sandy? Go support your son for five minutes, twiddle a brow, and then troll the bars for your wife. Lord. Sandy lies that he thinks he can get there before it ends if he finds Kirsten quickly. Uh-huh.
Marissa weeps on her bed. A shadow is cast over her body, which I figure is going to be Julie until Trey reaches out and touches her shoulder. Marissa leaps up and backs away from him. "How did you get in here?" Marissa gasps. AAAAAARGH. How do you THINK, nimrod? How did Ryan get into your place last week? How does ANYONE get in ANYWHERE in this town? By WALKING RIGHT IN, fool! Sheesh. The Cohen manse is the only place you see anyone ring a doorbell. Trey does say that the back door was open, as if we needed that detail, because of COURSE something was open. Trey begs Marissa to accept his apology. "Get out," she spits. "I was out of my mind -- I didn't plan it, it just happened," Trey pleads. Marissa doesn't care. Trey insists that he never meant to hurt her, and that he just wants things to go back the way they were. Furiously, Marissa spits that she doesn't care that she got hurt, because Ryan is going to be gutted by this -- Ryan, who would do anything for Trey. "You don't even deserve him as a brother!" Marissa cries. This upsets the loon. He bites back an insult and instead says that he doesn't really care if she accepts his apology, but that she had better not tell Ryan anything. Marissa screams at him to leave before she calls the cops, and after a moment of defiance, Trey does. Marissa immediately goes over and closes THE WINDOW, because that will make her safer when all the other doors in the house are still unlocked. Dumb-ass.
Ryan arrives at Marissa's just in time to see a figure leaving. Ryan hides and watches, until he sees that it's Trey. Ryan looks - you guessed it -- confused.
Sandy is driving around town.
Cut to Kirsten in a bar finishing a martini; the bartender, a particularly attentive and brilliant sort, is already mixing her refill. Bless you, bartender. Would that they were all like you.
Cut back to Sandy looking depressed...
...then again to Kirsten fingering her wedding bands. Suddenly, she removes the Featherbrook necklace, gets up, leaves money on the bar, and exits -- all without taking a single sip of her martini. You want alcohol abuse? There it is.
Sandy's phone rings; it's Kirsten. "Where are you?" he asks, scared. She is sobbing in her car. "I'm sorry," she sniffles. "Honey, it was my fault -- you were trying to tell me something and I wasn't listening," he says sadly. He wants to come get her, but she's on her way home. "I thought I was losing you," she weeps. "No, that's never going to happen," Sandy promises. They express their love for one another and he presses her to pull over so he can pick her up; just then, Kirsten does her best impression of The Flash and drops her phone; she then reaches down to pick it up while she is still driving. I am at least thankful that it wasn't ice cream, and that she wasn't singing, because damn, that was a bad moment in TV history. "Kirsten?" Sandy shouts. She looks up and sees a car about to crash into her, so she slams on the brakes...and comes to a stop in the intersection without hitting anything. Relieved, she lets out a shaky breath, until she hears a horn blaring off to the right. As she jerks her head to the side, headlights of a careening truck almost blind her; she flinches and the truck slams into the rented Jeep she's driving, which skids, flips, rolls, and comes to a halt as a twisted pile of metaphoric wreckage.
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