Okay, so Brooke and Harrison are just hanging out in the halls of the hospital. He has cancer. She has an eating disorder, and they just happen to be on the exact same floor of this mammoth hospital. Happens all the time, I'm sure. And speaking of realism, Harrison is just totally over the fact that Brooke stood up in front of entire school and accused him of doing drugs. After all, it was two whole episodes ago, no need to hold a grudge or anything. I guess time just goes by faster for the Kennedy gang. Why, in just an episode, Harrison's love for Mary Cherry is but a footnote. She doesn't visit. He doesn't care. She's not even in this episode. [sound of all of my readers groaning and deciding not to read the rest of this recap]
Brooke has "unwashed" hair and wears a "sick outfit" consisting of a grey snowflake sweater, a black body suit, and a jaunty blue scarf. She's totally stylin' in a really severe Pennsylvania way. It's like she's got this Helga thing going on. Seriously, I can just see Andrew Wyeth doing a tempura-on-wood painting entitled "Girl With Eating Disorder." Anyway, she's all, "Sugar said you got stuck with some religious freak." Harrison protests that his Christian roommate Clarence is the coolest guy he ever met. We're going to have to take his word for it, because there's nothing in this episode that establishes why Clarence is supposed to be cool when, in the last episode, he was bugging the shit out of Harrison up until a few moments before he got really sick and had to be removed from Harrison's room. I guess they had "cool time" together sometime between his being pulled from Harrison's room and the present moment. Anyway, Harrison tells Brooke that he can't find Clarence anywhere because they've got him in one of these ICU rooms. He pushes the elevator button so he can go look for Clarence some more. They exchange niceties, and Harrison kind of does one of those "chuckling at the irony of this chance encounter" a la James Van Der Beek. Oh yeah, and Brooke lets him know that April Tuna is president by default. Go April!! So they give each other the Vulcan handshake in honor of April Tuna and part ways. But there's a lot of this looking back at each other and stuff like they're setting up some sort of love interest thing. Oh, what will Sam think? Who cares?
Miss Ross is back! Yay! I'm not even sure why I'm glad, but I just am. It's so nice to see a teacher in this school besides Chem. Speaking of Chem, she's not in this episode either. Anyway, I guess Miss Ross is now teaching a drama class, or she's just making her Sassy Black Female Thought For White Teens II class do a performance of Equus. So Miss Ross goes off on Equus and asks the class, "When does passion become a liability?" Sugar Daddy, back from eating-disorder sleepaway camp and looking the same weight he was when he left, brings up the fact that there's nudity in the play. Miss Ross goes off some more on how the play is all about the evils of repression and how it takes stamina, imagination, and grace to be an actor in this play. Meanwhile, Josh is snoozing to Lily, who keeps trying to wake him up, and his mullet is getting more and more pronounced.
Are You There, God? It's Me, Ann-Margret.
Oh, and the guest stars are listed: I guess Harrison will indeed find where they moved Clarence, because Mike Damus's name appears. Carmen's mom is back too, 'cause there's Susan Ruttan's name. Adria Dawn is listed, so you know April Tuna is going to be there. No mention of Ann-Margret, though, although we know she's in this episode. Stop being coy, creditmeister!
Class is dismissed, and everyone gets up to leave except Josh and Lily. Lily confronts Josh on his sleepiness. She thinks he's depressed. Josh disagrees, insisting that he's bored. Well, Josh? Considering that you're dating Lily, I totally take your word for it. This very thought obviously occurs to Lily, because soon Josh is hastily explaining that it has nothing to do with Lily. He's just having trouble getting excited about school now that he can't play football anymore. Yeah, I'll bet Josh misses that locker room. Oh wait, they just announced Special Guest Star: Ann-Margret. No one's being coy. Lily suggests that Josh channel his energy into the school play. Josh points out that his life fell apart last year when he was in South Pacific. Lily reminds him that he loved being in that play. "I was excellent," says Josh. Lily gives him a Xerox of his tryout piece and tells him he'll be playing a "psychotic teenager." "Seriously?" says Josh. "And I have to audition?" Okay, I'll admit that was pretty cute of Josh.
Bryant Park. A tented runway. Carmen approaches from backstage, but before she walks, she checks out the crowd: Anna Wintour, Katherine Betts, Steven Meiseloh, wait. It's a twelve-step group that's being held in a really stark chic room. Or so I assume from the circle of folding chairs being set up. Anyway, Hunky Chair Set-Up Guy is all, "Are you Carmen?" "Yeah," says Carmen. "Hey, I'm Brad," says Brad. "We spoke on the phone." Brad is totally working that sensitive mountain-man thing -- he's got one of those tooth necklaces and a chamois shirt. "You're Brad from Alateen?" gulps Carmen, because she totally thinks he's fine and she's nervous about being there in general. Brad assures her that she's not alone, that many others like her have alcoholic parents. "I'm not one of those," snaps Carmen. "You may be surprised," says wise 'n' cute Brad.
Lily and Sam help Josh with his British accent. Josh practices some lines and then stops himself, protesting that he sounds like "Austin Powers on crack." Josh, you can only dream of sounding as fabulous as Austin Powers would on crack. Sam laughs at Josh in this really really condescending manner, and while she does this, her front teeth erupt forth on my TV screen like sunshine along ears of corn in those Soviet propaganda films. She does, however, offer advice to Josh that Josh finds helpful. She suggests that he go and buy a "dialect" tape. This is Josh's cue to get his ass out of there. He thanks Sam profusely for her stellar advice, because it wasn't like she was totally condescending about it or anything.
It's last call at the Alateen meeting, and Carmen sits nervously in tight focus sucking on her fingers (I guess she forgot her Pringles), trying to drum up enough courage to share. Cute wise Brad almost calls an end to the meeting, but Carmen raises her hand at the last minute. You go, Carmen! I am so there for you and your need to speak at your Alateen meeting. Have I told you all how much I am just there for the latest incarnation of Carmen, professional victim? It's all so jazzy! Carmen tells the group that her mother has a drinking problem -- but not anymore, and then she has to relive the whole Nicole and Mary Cherry exposing her mother's drinking in front of the whole school thing from a couple of episodes ago. Because, you see, if Carmen can't actually get treated horribly by someone within twenty minutes into an episode, she can fill her victim quota by simply reliving a victimhood moment from the recent past. Oh, and she also has to slip it in that she's homecoming queen, because that has to be mentioned in every single episode as well.
In the middle of Carmen's speech, Nicole appears in a psychedelic shirt, gold lam pants, lots of gold jewelry, and opalescent pink and baby blue eye shadow, apologizes for being late, and without realizing it sits down to Carmen. She's still working that Accused 'do, but it's got some gel in it that makes it so much more bearable. Brad tells her that they are in the middle of hearing from a new member, and he introduces her to Carmen. Okay, Nicole is so fabulous right here. She totally looks to her left, sees Carmen, and, without missing a beat, just says hello completely sweetly and warmly. Carmen freaks. Heh! I so cannot wait to see what Nicole has in store for Carmen.
Okay, I know I'm relatively alone here, but I liked last year's Gap Christmas ads better than this year's. What can I say? I'm a sucker for intricately choreographed dance pieces and that sample of "Ice, Ice Baby." This snowball fight amongst the models in slow motion ain't doing it for me. And maybe it's me, but I don't think that they should have slowed down "Little Drummer Boy" until it sounded like a heroin-induced number that belonged on the Trainspotting soundtrack. "Little Drummer Boy" is a perfectly morbid enough song when played at normal tempo, thank you very much. And Miss Congeniality? Sandra "America's Sweetheart" Bullock falls down a lot, 'cause she's a tough FBI agent and has never worn high heels before. Hilarious. Oh yeah, and there are eating-disorder jokes too. Can't get enough of those pageant films. And apparently, no one else can either, because they just rule at the box office. Oh wait, they don't.