Hello, boys and girls, and welcome to the recap of "Truth or Consequences," the delightful sixth episode of Popular. Last episode on Popular, Carmen earned her wings, Sam thought about herself a whole lot, Harrison turned Brooke into a zombie in his parents’ basement, and Josh and Brooke refrained from doing It yet again. Oh yeah, and the Parents git down on the kitchen floor. And I do mean Git Down.
This episode opens with a dramatic battlefield scene. The camera pans from pudding-smeared windowpane to milk-drenched tabletop. One lone antsy soul sits solitary in the aftermath. Someone jittery. Someone who is wearing some hellaciously tall creepers. Some who is, perhaps, locked to her seat in a rictus of amphetamines and adrenaline. Drumming fingers. Tapping feet. The camera fades to a food-besmirched Brooke McQueen, confessing to an unknown, um, confessor that she has, in fact, been a little stressed lately. Sam sits to her. They call each other liars, they blame each other for their miserable home lives and their petty, hypocritical character flaws. The unseen confessor asks them patiently, and not for the first time, I think, how this bloody battle began.
A caption floats across the screen, alerting us to the fact that we are experiencing what is known in certain circles as a flashback. "Last Monday, 7:29 AM." Jane (that’s Mom, for those who didn’t catch the last recap) is smearing makeup on her face with a cosmetic sponge. And speaking of cosmetic sponges, Sam pops into the frame not a minute later, just in time to ask Jane what she ended up doing on Friday night. "Making sweaty, grown-up Git Down with my main man Mike, Sam. Why do you ask?" Naw. Just kidding. That’s what she should have said. Really, Jane is very cool and says that she and Mike had a nice dinner. Sam baits her: "Really? Is that it?" Jane maintains her composure. At this point Sam launches into full-on Fucker Mode, telling her mom that she and the girls watched a Cinemax After Dark movie in which a couple of parents have a candlelight dinner and "have each other for dessert, right there on the kitchen floor. It was pretty gnarly." Sam, if I ever had a kid like you, I would shave her head and send her to reform school. And that’s just for starters. Jane asks what the movie was called. "The Beast with Two Backs," says Sam the Asshole, as she snits out of the room. Jane takes a deep breath and checks herself out in the mirror again. That kid is enough to inspire a hysterectomy, or at least a tubal ligation. "I should have stayed on the Pill," a frustrated Jane thinks to herself.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the city, Brooke is giving her dad a similarly lame time. "So, did you spend the night at Sam McPherson’s house on Friday?" No, you stupid slag, I spent the night at Jane McPherson’s house. Mike dodges, he fakes. Brooke busts him for lying, and he immediately ‘fesses up. Then Brooke throws a mother of a guilt trip on him, telling him that the reason that she’s got an eating disorder is that he lied to her about her mother leaving. Lame. Lame lame lame lame lame. Mike handles it pretty well, although he looks like Jackie Chan just whomped him in the gut. He tells her that he and Jane are going to stop "slinking around," and that they are going to slow things down and handle things like the adults that they are. Brooke is relieved, and they hug.
Blah blah blah. Glamour Shots. Credits. Bartender, white turtlenecks and lip gloss for all my friends. That’s right, all around. And what commercials have you selected for me today, Lord Satan? Mmmmm. Excellent choice. Some kind of Texas sports spot, featuring the theme song from the Dukes of Hazzard. A commercial for the new Kevin Smith movie, yeah yeah, I’m going to see it, you don’t even have to advertise. A 1-800-COLLECT commercial with a Danny Elfman score, too disturbing to consider. (For those of you who don’t understand what’s weird about that, go rent The Forbidden Zone. You’ll never think of the Elfman family in the same way again. Or Herve Villachaize, either.) What else? N64, numbingly banal car commercial, and now back to our regularly scheduled program. See you commercial break, my lord.
Back at Kennedy High, Bio announces that midterms are coming up, and that one of her favorite hobbies is holding folks back a grade. She singles out Brooke as a total control freak, I mean, exemplary student and blossoming workaholic, which makes the entire class want to burn Brooke at the stake. Maybe that’s just me. Whatever.
After class, Sugar Daddy and Josh flag down Harrison, who is carrying an enormous rucksack. Harrison, man, I know you love them, but you don’t go hauling them around with you after you’ve, um, preserved them. That shit will land you in jail, cold. Oh, they’re golf clubs. Never mind. Josh and Sugar Daddy shoot the breeze with Harrison about golf, Harrison explaining that golf serves as a sort of meditation for him. Sugar Daddy invites Harrison to come play with them at the country club, for the low low price of free if he caddies for them. Harrison declines, then makes fun of Sugar Daddy’s (non)ghetto-speak. SD snits away, only to be replaced by Sam the Asshole. Oh, yeah -- Harrison is missing his blue streak this episode. I may have to break up with him soon. This kind of inconsistency is inexcusable. Harrison gives a little speech about how much he hates the Blonde nobility, and Sam agrees wholeheartedly. To prove her point, she marches up to Brooke and produces a pair of Mike’s shorts: "You may be blonde and perfect, Brooke McQueen, but beware! For I have your father’s underpants! En garde!" The two super-villains squabble about who has a better relationship with her parent. Sam calls Brooke naïve and gullible, Brooke calls Sam a sneaky brat. Smug Bitch wants to start a fight (yawn), and snits are served all around. Look! Sam can raise one eyebrow! Neat! I wonder if she can also turn her eyelids inside out, or touch the tip of her tongue to her nose.
Back at Blonde HQ, Brooke fights a relapse of Voice-over Sickness. It’s Sam’s voice she hears, and it seems to be coming from . . . Mike’s shorts! Watch out, Brooke! This is no voice-over flashback, and these are no ordinary shorts! Oblivious to the true nature of the two-way speaker shorts, Brooke stuffs the questionable garment further into her handbag. At another table in study hall, Smug Bitch announces that there’s a Charlie’s Angels marathon on TV, so they need to hurry up and finish studying. Mary Cherry and the rest of the Blondes take a few moments to punch me with the Iron Fist Of Foreshadowing, telling me that Brooke has never had a stress zit or made a bad grade. Ouch. Thanks, girls, I knew I could count on you when the chips were down. Then they proceed to work with vocabulary flash cards. Paramecium? Not a clue. Tom Ford? Fabulous gay designer for Gucci. BWA-HA-HA-HA. The fact that Tom Ford is one of my favorite designers makes the whole thing even more delectable. Confused by the fact that Smug Bitch isn’t at all stressed about the midterm, Vomit Girl and Mary Cherry ask SB what her secret is. The theme song from The Pink Panther starts to play (ooohhh! By the pricking of my thumbs, something kooky this way comes) and SB reveals that cheating is the beauty cream that keeps her stress lines at bay. The Pink Panther music fades, only to be replaced by the Charlie’s Angels theme. Again, I say BWA-HA-HA-HA. An exquisite ripple-fade takes us into the land of "Once upon a time, there were three little girls, and they all went off to Cheerleading Academy." Oh, man. Oh, man! Stop it! I’m laughing too hard! It’s too perfect -- Smug Bitch measuring other students’ weight, Mary Cherry threatening me with a hair dryer, Vomit Girl kung-fu flipping a guy and then triumphantly unzipping her hoodie, all in the most deliciously ‘70s outfits and wigs. Wow. I think I woke up my -door neighbor with my shrieking.
Cut to the three girls, heads stacked one above the other as they peek around the corner at Bio. "Every day at this time she makes herself a banana smoothie. You could set your watch by this monkey’s feeding schedule." Shit, if the show keeps being this funny, I may have to resign. It’s hard to make fun of a show that beats you to the punch. Bio strides purposefully down the hall with a bunch of bananas under her arm. Each of the girls takes a walkie-talkie. Smug Bitch gives the other Angels their instructions, and POW! They are on maneuvers. Vomit Girl tails "the beast." Mary Cherry stands guard. Smug Bitch breaks for the classroom. Perfect wah-chicka-wah Charlie’s Angels music plays as Smug Bitch picks the lock on Bio’s desk drawer with an emery board in a smooth eighth of a second. (For those of you who have ever tried to pick a lock, you’ll appreciate how completely insane this is. For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about, grab a paper clip or a nail file and go lock yourselves out of the house. Now try to get back in using only the tools you brought with you. Don’t forget to bring thirty-five cents so you can call the building super to unlock your house for you when you give up in tears of frustration.) The CD with the test on it is conveniently labeled and resting right on top. SB slaps in a zip disk and copies the files. (Why aren’t they using Macs in this school? No wonder the students are so stupid they have to cheat.) But wait! Bio is returning! What ever will our intrepid Angels do? Vomit Girl radios ahead to Mary Cherry, who catches Bio and asks her the side-splitting diversionary question: "Sir, what are the pros and cons of feminine douching?" Bio, complete with smoothie moustache, smiles at Mary Cherry like she’d like to show her the pros and cons of feminine douching, and Smug Bitch slides out the door, copied files in hand, in the nick of time. Phew! That’s enough hilarity for this reporter. I might have disturbed my downstairs neighbor, as well, from pounding my feet on the floor as I cackled.
The captions in this episode are bouncing like the electronic ball in that ancient video game Pong. I feel slightly motion-sick as a green one drifts diagonally across the screen: "Tuesday, Mid-Term Eve, noon-ish" (or something like that). Oh, here we are, back in Brooke’s home away from home, the Kim Novak ladies’ room. Brooke peers anxiously into the mirror, wondering how those two silly braids managed to wander into her lank coif. Her attention moves to the zit on her temple. My first thought is one of sympathy for all her hairline pores, smothered beneath those oily locks. Then I remember the stress-zit thing. Right -- this is a sign that she is beginning to crack. As soon as she pulls back her braid to fully expose the blemish, the other Blondes come rushing in from the sidelines like frantic stagehands. SB whips out a concealer stick and daubs maternally, all the while lecturing Brooke on the virtues of talking things over with your friends. Brooke starts venting some of the reasons that she’s come down with that one crippling pimple: midterm, relationship, anxiety over Homecoming, whether the hole that Harrison drilled into her skull last episode is ever going to heal up, her side career as a clown hooker . . . Okay, okay, I made that last one up. But the others are God’s own truth. Swear. Brooke tells her handmaidens that they all need to pass the biology midterm so they don’t screw up the Homecoming game. SB gives her best smug smile and whips out the answers to the test: "Feast your big baby hazels on this!" At this line, I can’t suppress an image of a pair of baby Hazels in a pram, being wheeled by a drunken SB. That’s Hazel the Housekeeper, for those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about. Unsettling, no? Brooke says, "But . . . that’s cheating!" Um, duh, Brooke. The Blondes try to couch the scenario in more appealing terms, telling our heroine that it will be an excellent way to relieve some of the stress that’s caused her catastrophic (not), disgusting (not) zit. At this critical moment, the toilet flushes (so that’s what’s in those nice, silver booths), and who should appear but Sam the Asshole, looking awfully sexy. I’m not being sarcastic -- she looks really hot in that outfit. If she would only close her damn mouth. She wishes the Blondes good luck in their midterm studies in the most non-threatening threatening way I’ve seen this side of a fourth-grade re-enactment of the Benedict Arnold story. Then off she snits to go think about Brooke some more. The Blondes look at each other in consternation as the bathroom door quietly swings closed.
Later, at one of their many meals, the Browns are bitching about the test. Little Big Head is working too much to study, Carmen studied the wrong chapters, and Harrison says nothing, because everyone knows he is utterly preoccupied with making Brooke his zombie bride. Sam the Asshole flounces into their midst, immediately diverting all conversation to her. Blah blah blah, cheerleaders breaking the curve, bitter bitter snark snark. Creepy Boy, who has been eavesdropping, leans in and offers to sell them all excuse letters, guaranteed to get them out of the test. Carmen rejects him, and he closes his snappy metal briefcase with a hurt look on his face. Hey, Sam, nobody is thinking about you or your problems -- you better do something about that, quick. Thanks, amorgan, I sure will: "So, you guys! What should I do about this cheerleading problem?" Gold Bond Medicated Powder is supposed to work wonders for, well, those kinds of problems, Sam. Ah, those kids, they crack wise while Rome burns. What’s a girl to do but snit like her heart is breaking? Sam stomps away, but she doesn’t get very far because she is caught by the nefarious slow-motion monster. Bored by Sam’s narcissism, I paused the tape at this point to refresh my cocktail. When I returned to my seat, I realized that I had paused on a frame in which Sam looks just. Like. A porn star. Lollipop or French fry or some other phallic thing in her mouth, one hand tugging at it provocatively, slightly disheveled hair, and the most artistic eyebrows I’ve seen this side of the Carmen Miranda parade at Carnaval in Brazil. When I set the scene in motion once again, the impression stuck. As I watched Sam slide across the cafeteria I kept expecting her to walk up to Smug Bitch and say huskily, "There’s only one way to settle this," and whip a vibrator out of her shoulder bag. The Blondes glare daggers at Sam, ‘cause Sam has trapped them in slo-mo, too. The monster must only be interested in Sam today (it’s probably waiting for her to go home and take a shower), as all activity returns to normal speed when Sam leaves the room. The Blondes have an anxious moment, in which Mary Cherry reveals that she will "lose Gulfstream privileges" if she’s busted cheating, and that she "will not fly commercial!" Hee hee! This episode is gonna cost me my job. Brooke waxes all moral and mighty on them, and performs her own personal snit.
The scene opens in Mr. Grant’s office. Sam is frothing at the mouth about the Blondes, and Mr. Grant is looking at Sam like she is trying to give him a complicated set of instructions in a foreign language. Mr. Grant? You know, I had honestly forgotten about him. Hey, man! What’s up? Hangin’ with Limp Bizkit can really screw up your attendance at work. Those guys are hard-core. I wonder what ever happened with that whole sexual harassment suit? Well, whatever the outcome, things seem to be back to normal. Sam whines about how bad she wants to bust the Blondes (ew! She’s wearing one of those Emily shirts that bug me so bad. "Emily was a very nice girl. With a gun." Emily should explore the joys of self-immolation), pacing and freaking out while Mr. Grant cautions her to beware of making false allegations. For no reason at all, I am fascinated by the fact that Mr. Grant has decorated his desk with a pair of elephants. Oh, I know the reason -- because Sam bores me. She’s starting to sound like Maria on Roswell. You know, "Eeeeeeeeeee!" Nothing but static. Mr. Grant tells her that she has to have hard proof, and also that she should "go slow and keep [her] antenna up." Um, thanks, Yoda. I’m sure Sam will file that valuable information under "C" for "completely useless."
Meanwhile, over at the interior design showcase that is the McQueen palace (get it? Palace? ‘Cause she’s a McQueen? Hoo! How funny can one woman be?) Brooke walks into the kitchen, catches a glimpse of the refrigerator, and thinks to herself, "I wonder what that big silver box is for?" Our unfortunate Pandora will find out all too soon. She grasps one of the silver handles, pulls gently, and opens the refrigerator door, only to release the spirit of Parent Hoochie. Brooke! What have you done?! Freed from their cold prison, Jane and Mike tumble gleefully into the kitchen, wearing no drawers whatsoever. Brooke stares in horror, then bags on Mike for lying to her again. She rushes past him, forever scarred by the sight of his big ol’ chest hanging out of that blue bathrobe. He calls after her, then glances at Jane, who has covered her mouth with her hands. I wonder if she feels sick? She’ll have to wait until Brooke gets done in the bathroom first.
Hey! It’s another kooky part! What could it be today? Black and white, prison setting, Brooke’s big head taking up the whole screen . . . maybe it is a porn sequence after all. Oh, no such luck. Instead, one by one, we see each of the main characters in "prison" gear (note to wardrobe: prisoners stopped wearing stripes a couple of decades ago. Orange jumpsuits are dominating the prison runways these days) and hear their echoey thoughts about the biology test. While I generally enjoy these nutty interludes, albeit reluctantly, I can honestly say that this one chaps my ass forwards, backwards, and sideways. The thing that drives me to this dramatic pronouncement? The fact that, after each of the students telepathically communicates her "secret" anxiety, she is faced by a "scary" silhouette of some form of death threat, i.e. a swinging noose, a falling ax or guillotine blade, the Grim Reaper himself, the specter of failed artistic ambition, et cetera. The only bright spot in this unbearably awkward scene is provided by Smug Bitch, who studies a copy of InStyle through the whole thing, then sees the silhouette of a body builder instead of some tedious form of demise. Thanks to the miracle of Voice-Over Madness, we learn that Carmen bought an excuse from Creepy Boy after all, and that SB thinks Jennifer Lopez has no shame, what with her "big" ass and all. I start to eye the cold medicine again like an alcoholic at a wedding reception.
And the test begins. As Bio passes out the exams, Carmen holds up the fake excuse (it’s been sealed, so she has no idea what it really says) in her shaking hand. "Miss Glass? I have an excuse letter that you should read." Creepy Boy watches with interest from across the room. Bio opens the letter and reads it aloud. "Dear Ms. Glass, Please excuse my patient, Carmen Ferrera, from biology midterm today on account of the fact that she has a distended anus." BWA-HA-HA! Cold medicine forgotten, I crack right up, as does the entire class. Bio leans in real close. "You too, huh? That which does not kill us makes us stronger. Enjoy the test." Bummer. With quivering lower lip, Carmen looks at the test in dismay. Bio turns over an old-fashioned hourglass, like the one in The Wizard of Oz, and sets it between two big specimen jars. Boy, does Sam look pissed off. The Blondes race through their test, manicured nails a-flyin’ over the pages. Everyone else works up to the last minute, Bio dragging the unfinished tests out from under their pencils after the sands have run out.
The day, Bio hands out the grades. Everyone but the cheerleaders bombed. "I see we have a smart squad this year," remarks our gullible Bio. Bio tells Sam that she expected more from her. Brooke and Sam say mean things to each other.
After class, Carmen chases Creepy Boy down the hall past Sam and Little Big Head: "I’m going to get you, you creepy salesman! I want my money back!" Sam bitches rabidly to LBH about the Blondes, declaring that the Browns have to go after the Blondes for throwing off the curve. Ever sensible, LBH informs Sam that Mr. Cluck’s may be her only future, so she’s going to work instead of fighting in the super-villain face-off this episode. As LBH snits away, Brooke walks past Sam. Damn! Both those girls got hit on the head with a Foxy Stick! Brooke is wearing some black leather pants and a sheer turtleneck. She squares off with Sam and says, "My Sophisticated Casual Style can defeat your Urban Bike Messenger Style any day of the week, my friend!" Then they break into a mad sequence of fashion kung-fu, complete with "swoosh-swish-pow-pow" noises and aerial gymnastics. Because their super-powers are perfectly matched, the battle reaches an impasse. Sam declares, "I’m on to you, Brooke," then retreats to light a candle to her old master and to seek out a new master who can help her defeat Brooke’s powerful Sophisticated Casual style.
Later, elsewhere in the city, a brown VW bug pulls up in front of the country club. Is that Sam’s car? Nice. She has kidnapped Harrison (who’s got his Blue Streak on again), and is coercing him into caddying for the male league of the Blondes so that he can trick them into confessing to cheating. He’ll have a tape recorder hidden in his pocket, see, and then Sam will have her proof. He waffles, he protests, but in the end he gives in like a big pussy and trots off to be a narc for Sam. You know, kids, sometimes the funniest things can happen. Take Harrison, Josh, and Sugar Daddy. This is an assembly of guys who should be fighting to the death, right? But after a few rounds of golf, after Harrison helps Josh make a shot or two, after Sugar Daddy makes them all laugh by devouring some septuagenarians on the ninth green -- well, those ancient enmities start to seem a little silly. Harrison ignores these signs of impending friendship, though, and tapes Sugar Daddy confessing to the whole cheating escapade anyway. Josh chastises Sugar Daddy for cheating, and SD swears that it will never happen again. Harrison seems impressed by this, and agrees to go out to eat with the two Blondes. Hmmm . . . could it be that Blue Streak may change his mind about handing over the tape?
Commercial break. Arsenio Hall tells me to call collect. Doesn’t he know how tacky that is? Texas-centric truck commercial, terrifying Cat In The Hat Universal Studios commercial, basketball, fried chicken, long-distance service. Yes, I’ll take two of everything, please.
Back at school, the floating caption tells us that it’s "Friday, word, t.g.i.f." Right. Word. Sam catches Harrison at his locker and demands the goods. ‘Nope, I got nuthin’. Those boys is stone cold clean as a whistle, Sammy." Or something like that. He leaves her standing in the hall in a state of insane frustration. She can’t believe it. She won’t believe it. So she breaks into his locker. "Breaks" is not exactly the right word here, since she seems to know the combination to his lock. What good is a lock if Sneaky Sam has the combo? "Not much" is the answer to that question. She gets into his locker, takes the tape recorder, and runs off to foment more trouble at Kennedy High. Outside, Josh gives Brooke the third degree about cheating. She denies that she cheated, and throws some good old-fashioned guilt on him: "My dad might be dishonest, but it doesn’t mean that I am, okay?" She follows this up with the winning rhetorical strategy of hyperventilating until she passes out.
When she comes to, Nurse Glass (that’s Doppelganger Bio, remember?) asks her if she’s on drugs: "Pills, dope, crank, smack, juice?" Hee hee -- that’s the high school that I remember. These kids are all so clean and nice, even when they’re being mean, that it makes me feel old and criminal sometimes. Brooke denies any substance abuse, carefully neglecting to mention her heavy White Cross habit, which she occasionally supplements with lines of truckstop crank that she buys off Mary Cherry. "Nurse Glass, why did I have this attack?" Doppelganger Bio starts reeling off a list of the pressures facing Brooke, who is breathing into a brown paper bag. The longer the list gets, the faster the bag crumples and expands. Hee hee hee -- stop it, you guys! I’m not supposed to laugh this much during a show. DB asks if she wants to call her dad to take her home, but Brooke says mournfully that it’s not her home anymore. Aw. Poor kid.
Apparently nothing else interesting happens for the rest of the day, or on the weekend, either, because the scene opens with a floating caption that indicates "Another Manic Monday." Cute. Not. Mr. Grant walks down the stairs in the midst of a throng of students, happily eating an apple and minding his own business. Until Sam comes along, that is: "Mr. Grant! Mr. Grant! Pay attention to me! Me!" "What’s up, Sam?" Sam tells him the whole story about "a friend" going undercover (leaving out the part where she stole the tape out of Blue Streak’s locker, of course) and taping a confession. Mary Cherry looks on from a railing above Sam and Mr. Grant, and somehow hears the entire conversation, even over the ambient noise and considerable distance between her and them. I guess Cheerleading Academy really improved her lip-reading skills. Sam indicates that she’ll need to check with her source, to make sure he’s ready for the story to run.
Mary Cherry breaks the bad news to the Blondes over . . . breakfast? Yes, it must be breakfast. They all agree that Sam is insane. Then Sam runs into the cafeteria to gloat to her fellow Browns about her triumph. Carmen and Little Big Head are pleased by this development, and exchange high-fives. "Hey, have you seen Harrison? I’ve got to talk to him." LBH looks behind Sam and indicates that Blue Streak is beginning to defect. Indeed, Blue Streak is trading amusing anecdotes with Josh and Sugar Daddy. Carmen says, "Look, your mom is sleeping with the enemy, and now Blue Streak is dining with them." Way to rub it in, Carm, Sometimes I think Carmen is really lame. Sam tries to talk to Harrison, who gives her the "I’m kind of busy" line and follows it up with a "get the hell out of here, I’m about to score with Josh" look. She snits off and tells Mr. Grant to run the story.
Back in Brooke’s office, Sam flushes the toilet, walks out of the stall and sees Brooke washing her hands. "Wash them as much as you want. You and I both know they’ll never be clean." Jesus, Sam, do you ever quit? You know, Paxil is supposed to work wonders for mood swings and depression, although I’m not sure how it affects OCD. Brooke asks her to please not run the article, then gives a heartbreaking account of everything that sucks in her life. She and Sam end up talking about how lame it is that their parents are doing It; then Brooke confesses to cheating on the test. She tells Sam that Sam is the only person who knows about her cheating. Sam feels really crappy for being such a dick to Brooke, and agrees not to run the story. Oh yeah, and we realize, yet again, that these ladies are just alike after all. And Brooke apologizes and says that she was wrong about Sam.
But guess what? It’s too late! Sam tries to get the plates back from the printer, but Mr. Grant put a rush on things and the papers are already printed and out the door. In thirty minutes? How can that be real? Even in the age of technological wonders that is our birthright, thirty minutes? I don’t buy it for a second. My own secret voice-over kicks in: "Advance the plot by any means necessary, amorgan. Damn logic, damn reason, damn sanity."
When we come back from another nonsensical commercial break, the caption reads, "Tuesday, bloody Tuesday." I can’t figure out time at all on this show. Please disregard the paragraph. Sam walks down the Hallway Of Shame. The entire student body has unified against her. Um, guys, cheating is wrong, you know? I guess narcing is even worse than cheating? Hmm. I’m not sure how I feel about that. The worst part is when Harrison has to face Josh and Sugar Daddy, who are so angry that they just start shouting. Then Harrison and Josh get into a fist-fight. Ouch. This scene is making me really tense. The camera work is all loopy and crazy, and all the other students gather around shouting, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" Just like I remember. Yeesh. Another reason to be thankful that I escaped high school. Sam breaks up the fight and tries to apologize to Blue Streak, who will have none of it. He looks really cute when he’s all angry and out of breath. Maybe I won’t break up with him just yet.
In the Kim Novak lounge, Brooke sits on the Rose Settee and weeps. Smug Bitch comes in just in time to get an earful of Brooke’s betrayed feelings. This part also makes me very tense. Requisite poignancy and dead-on heartstring-tugging. Um, can we have another Charlie’s Angels sequence? I’m starting to feel a lump in my throat over everyone’s good intentions gone awry.
In biology class, Sam tries to apologize to Brooke. Brooke won’t hear a word of it. Bio asks the cheaters to step forward, or the whole class will fail. Bio quotes the paper as saying, "The ringleader is a popular, blonde cheerleader." She eyes Brooke, but SB does the right thing and steps up just in time to save Brooke’s bacon. I really like how protective she is of Brooke, even if it is a bit . . . sociopathic. Bio asks if anyone else is going to step up. "Nope! That about covers it!" That Mary Cherry! She’s such a little gold-digging opportunist. You gotta love her.
Principal Blind Woman asks Smug Bitch to apologize. SB tells her to go to hell, and gives a rousing speech in which she cites abundant evidence that cheating is the cultural norm in our society, more often rewarded than punished. Good for you, SB. You stick up for your corrupt and wicked morals. Am I wrong for finding her a little sexier after this? Principal Hall bans her from Homecoming, much to her bulldoggish dismay.
Later, Josh bags on Brooke for not owning up to cheating. In the cafeteria, Smug Bitch gives the silent treatment to Vomit Girl and Mary Cherry. Carmen is still hounding Creepy Boy about the "distended anus" letter. Harrison refuses to sit with Sam, who picks a fight with him. Blue Streak and Mouth Breather bicker really loudly until Little Big Head throws a roll at Blue Streak and begs them both to shut the hell up. Blue Streak throws the roll at Sam, who throws a cupcake at BS. And misses. Who should the cupcake besmirch but . . . that’s right, Brooke McQueen. Brooke cuts loose and sprays ketchup all over Sam, who picks up a cup of hot chocolate (stealthily supplied by Creepy Boy) and douses Brooke. Creepy Boy stands up and yells, "Food fight!" in his best John Belushi style, and all sorts of food-slinging mayhem ensues. My favorite part is watching Creepy Boy belly crawl across the floor with a stainless steel bowl on his head like a WWI soldier in the trenches.
Fade to the interrogation scene with which this episode began. Mike and Jane take responsibility for sneaking around, thus . . . encouraging their daughters to do the same? Whatever. The point is that they sit the girls down and announce that they are all moving in together week, adding, "If you could get past this pettiness, you might be friends." The girls declare their firm commitment to mutual dislike, in a moment of beautifully synchronized agreement, thus pointing out, yet again, that they are really. Just. Alike. In case you hadn’t noticed.