First off, I'd like to give mighty props to Phillips Magnavox, the makers of my combo TV/VCR. As we all know, Sunday was the first day of Daylight Savings Time, and guess who forgot to check that the timer? Hmm? And guess who remembered at 9:45, except it was really 10:15 because my dashboard clock was wrong and she was thirty minutes away from home at the time? Uh huh. Fortunately, my TV/VCR wonder box automatically updated the time. My business? Theirs forever. End of story. Except to say that Daylight Savings Time works my ass, every single time.
So, Jennifer Beals is back. Good for her. Finally figured out her tie-in, too -- last year, she starred in a A House Divided, an original production by Showtime. She played a post-Civil War Southern Belle who finds out that her mother's actually a slave. D'oh! Talk about your coming-out stories! Insert your favorite Thomas Jefferson joke here.
Open on Justin in the shower. Brian's shower. Justin stayed over at Brian's, I guess. I don't know. Theirs seems to be a very loosely defined relationship, and I tire of questioning it. Justin walks out into the bedroom area and peers into the living room. Lindsay's all dressed up, twittering about, giving Brian directions about taking care of Gus. Gus is placidly lying in Brian's arms, drinking from a bottle. Lindsay tells Brian that Gus takes a nap at eleven, and another one at three. Justin says that that sounds nice, and it really, really does, doesn't it? Lindsay gives Brian a list of emergency numbers and tells Brian to be sure, when he takes Gus outside, to put on his little beanie cap so that Gus's head doesn't get cold. This baby does not look like last week's Gus. Who is this child? He/ she/ it is not nearly as cute. No one else seems to notice that the Gus I've come to know and love has been replaced by an uglier, less animated impostor. Justin, getting dressed for school, asks whether either of them has seen his other shoe. Brian's sitting on it and, tossing it to the boy, snerks, "I knew it wasn't one of my usual rubber toys." Lindsay, exasperated, asks whether Brian is even listening. Brian rolls his eyes and tells her that he's got it, and "Gus" will be fine. Lindsay sighs that she knows, and that she appreciates Brian's taking care of him for the weekend. Since the unfortunate incident with TLFKAM and the Sapphic Slut, Lindsay had to go back to work early, and must attend a teacher's conference of some kind. Brian snickers that maybe she'll meet a "nice lady P.E. teacher." And does a weird, gross, flippy thing with his tongue. Thanks for the visual. Justin tells Lindsay not to worry: "I'll keep an eye on him, too." Brian says that he doesn't need the help. Justin smirks that he meant he'd keep an eye on Brian, actually. Lindsay flutters around some more with papers and briefcases and firmly ignores them. Brian pointedly replies, "I'm his father; I'm not going to fuck it up." Lindsay just looks worried, worried, worried. Brian sits "Gus" on his knee and asks him, "Would you please tell them to give me some credit?" Lindsay says that she is, which is why she's leaving the baby with him in the first place. Whoever this baby is. Brian retorts that the only reason she's leaving "Gus" with him is because TLFKAM is in Miami visiting her mother and won't be back until Sunday. Another loosely defined relationship. These make me nervous. Lindsay gives Brian the main conference number. Brian reassures her that they'll be fine. Jiggling "Gus" on his knee, he grins, "Are you ready to spend the weekend with your old man, sonny boy?" "Gus" looks like he couldn't come up with a lively expression to save his/ her/ its life. I want my old baby back.
David's. Mike's on his way to work. David, carrying a cardboard box, cheerfully asks for a hand cleaning out the guest room. Mike apologizes for not moving some of his stuff beforehand, jaunts up the stairs to grab a box, and asks when "he" is arriving. David says 7:30, "if the plane's on time." And God help it if it's not. Mike laughs that David must be pretty excited; David kisses him and grins, "I've been counting the days since summer." Mike says that that's a long time. David says that Oregon's really far away, but he's on "his" Buddy List and they email. David gushes that he can't wait for Mike to meet his son, then goes on to talk about how amazing the kid is: "He's smart, he's funny, he can play tenor sax, he can do websites, he juggles." At the same time? I'd like to see that. And sell tickets. Seriously, I could use the cash. Mike sarcastically replies, "Great. When does he have time to do brain surgery?" Yeah, you wish. No, actually, I wish. Sigh. Mike adds that he sounds great. David says that the kid's going to love Mike, too. Mike's not so sure, and asks how David knows. David grins, "Who wouldn't?" Nah. Too easy. Let's move on. Dave opens up one of the boxes, and pulls out a pair of Captain Astro boxer shorts. "I've not seen these before," he guffaws. Embarrassed, Mike snatches them from him and puts them back in the box: "Well, maybe someday you will."
Ted's office building. Ted and Emmett walk down the stairs to go to lunch. Emmett is wearing tight red plaid pants, and a furry red jacket, under which I hope to God is just a tight black turtleneck. I suppose I should be happy that it matches, but I keep thinking back to a couple of seasons ago on Buffy, when I had to stop watching because I ended up screaming, "What the hell are you wearing?!" at the screen so many times, my neighbors complained. Ted's wearing his usual brown sweater vest/ white button-down combo, and snaps, "Couldn't you have worn something more discreet?" Emmett. Baby. Gimme a break, already. Emmett replies, "As long as your erogenous zones are covered, you're safely in the conservative column." According to who, Carmen Electra? Emmett continues, "Besides, I tried straight drag? And saw the light, thank God." No middle ground with these people. Emmett switches gears and asks Ted what he wants to get for lunch, suggesting sushi. Ted snorts, "Just what I need. Food poisoning." Emmett then suggests Indian Food. Ted predicts heartburn. Ribs? Ted groans, "Heart attack. You know what I could really go for? Tuna fish on white bread, potato chips, cole slaw, vanilla pudding." Emmett replies that that's what Ted always has. Just then, someone walking down the stairs after them calls Ted's name. Ted looks up and sees a tall, beefy blond guy with spiky hair, carrying a briefcase. Ted asks, amazed, "Dale Wexler?" They shake hands, confirming that they haven't seen each other in years. Emmett, curious as all hell, clears his throat. Ted introduces his friend, adding, "He's not from these parts." Heh. Dale Wexler says it's nice to meet him, and Emmett drawls, complete with elevator look, "You, too." Ted says that the last thing he heard, Dale had set up offices in Baltimore, and Dale replies that he's also in Cincinnati, and now in Pittsburgh. Ted wows that that's great: "You're doing so well -- of course, we all knew you would!" Dale smugly replies that life's been good, and asks how Ted's doing. Ted says that he's working at the same place, and Dale snorts, "Christ, I would have thought you would have left Wershafter by now." Ted nods, "Well, you know, his personal appeal and selfless generosity were just too hard to resist." Dale checks his watch and says he has to get going; he's got to take a client out to lunch: "This new Indonesian place, have you tried it?" Emmett snorts, "Who, him?" Ted jumps up to say that he hasn't, but he's been meaning to! Yeah, right. Once Dale walks off, Emmett asks how Ted knows him, and is told that they went to B-School together. Emmett thinks Dale's pretty cute, and Ted agrees that he always thought so, too: "I hear he's a real mover. He became a millionaire before he was thirty." Emmett wonders what Dale's secret was and Ted snorts, "I'll probably never know."
Liberty Diner. As a man puts up posters for the "Leather Ball" -- mind you, these posters depict one guy in leather briefs bent over another guy in leather briefs, so the subtlety machine rolls on -- Mike tells Justin and Brian that David's son is coming to visit: "What if he hates me?" Brian shrugs, "Fuck him, he's just a kid." Okay, but does your policy with Justin really apply in this case? Mike fusses that he's not just a kid, he's David's son: "You know what that means." "Gus" is in his car seat on the table, looking at Brian like he's still having problems placing him, exactly. Justin laughs, "You're the wicked stepmother. It's like a fairy tale." Mike scowls, "Well, why don't you get your fairy tail back to work? Isn't there a toilet you need to spit shine?" Brian tells Mike to relax -- David's son isn't going to hate him. Mike asks him why he's sure, and Brian sighs, "I'm crazy about you." Attention Brian Kinney: Shut up. This is not about you. Love, The World. Mike panics: "He's right. I'm the stepmother. I'm a stepmother!" Debbie steps up and starts cooing to the baby, "Who's the stepmother?" "Gus" gazes up at her like, "Huh." He's looking pretty bored -- can someone hand this kid a book while everyone else tries to get through this scene? Thank you. Brian tells her that Mike's the stepmother in question, and Mikey explains that David's son is visiting for the weekend. Debbie scootches Mike over in the booth so that she can coo at "Gus" some more. On closer inspection, "Gus" is getting pretty creeped out by the P-FLAG the Clown get-up, and looks over at Brian for some help. Debbie gushes that "Gus" is looking more and more like Brian every day; Brian, proud, tells her that they're still working on the hair. Hee. When Debbie asks where Lindsay is, Brian explains that St. L. is at a conference, and that he has the baby for the weekend. Debbie's amazed: "I wouldn't let you water my plants. Do you even know what a Huggie is?" Mike: "Here's a hint: It's not a sexual position." Ha! Brian fakes that he has no idea what a Huggie is, and Mike and Debbie remind him, in unison, that it's a diaper. Brian says that he knows all about diapers -- he had this trick once who liked to put Brian in diapers and spank him. Once again, thanks for sharing. Debbie says that she's surprised Brian would take on "Gus," what with the Leather Ball happening this weekend. Brian replies, "It was tempting. But this year I'm trading in my leather jockstrap for rubber pants." Less chance of chafing, I guess. Brian lifts "Gus" out of the seat and holds him above his head. "Gus" looks up at the ceiling, because he really doesn't care. A guy wearing leather chaps over blue jeans saunters by, and he and Brian exchange The Look with Zoom Flash.
The airport. Mike stares at the Flight information monitors until David taps him on the shoulder: His son, Hank, is coming off the plane with one of the stewardesses. As David rushes over, Mike takes a deep breath and mutters to himself, "Okay, here we go." Hank walks up and David lifts him over his head, which Hank is way too old for, and it shows on his face. David introduces Hank to Mike. Mike: "It's nice to finally meet you, Hank." Hank: "Wow. You're young." Bwahahahaha! Mike's eyes go wide, which is ironic, considering all the bitching he did about turning thirty. I'm surprised he didn't burst into tears and kiss Hank's feet in gratitude. David jumps in, "I've got a whole list of activities we're going to do this week. Just chock full!" Mike adds, "Pretty cool, huh?" Hank semi-enthusiastically agrees. David grabs Hank's hand, and starts babbling on about the Science Center, and a cable car or something, and a rock-climbing wall that he wants to see, and he's so excited and happy to see his son, that he doesn't even notice that Mike's left behind in a passenger deluge at the bottom of the escalator.
Back at Brian's, "Gus" has finally decided to display an emotion: Utter Misery. The baby bawls away, as Brian frantically tries to get the pacifier in his mouth. Brian even puts the pacifier in his own mouth to show how it's done. "Gus" keeps wailing. Brian groans, "It's your pacifier, you should be sucking it!" "Gus" doesn't think so. The doorbell rings, and Brian stumbles over many baby toys in order to get to the buzzer. "It's about fucking time, I ordered it over an hour ago!" he snarls. Going back to the baby, he tries again to install the pacifier, pleading, "Gus, think nipple. Think cock. Whatever gets you there." Snicker. Finally, "Gus" takes the pacifier, and all of a sudden he's fine. This is why babies scare me. It's like taking care of a tiny mute menopausal paraplegic. Not that there's anything intrinsically wrong with being any or even all of those things, but you know, we're talking lots of patience, lots of attention, and I can't even deal with my own mood swings, okay? So forgive me if I just stick to visiting auntie status for a while. I'd direct that at my mother, but she's still not allowed to read these. Brian sighs, relieved, "Your old man's not so bad at this." There's a knock on the door, and Brian snarls as he opens the door, "You'd better not have forgotten the sesame noodles this time! I ordered this an hour ago --" Gasp! It's Pop Kinney! "Hello, sonny boy." Pop cackles. In surprise, Brian mutters, "Jesus!" Pop Kinney scoffs, "Well, you couldn't be more surprised if it was." He asks to come in, and Brian stands aside to let him. Pop compliments the loft, but adds, "It looks like a dump from the outside." Hearing "Gus"gurgle, Pop asks who the baby is. Brian fumbles that he's Lindsay's. Pop remembers Lindsay: "Tallish. Blonde. You used to take her out." Pop says that "Gus" is cute, and asks, "She leaves him with you?" Brian replies, taking the baby out of the car seat, "Sometimes." Brian asks his dad why he's out: "A lady friend? Aren't you a little old for that?" Pop says that's not it. Brian pauses, and then asks if Pop needs any money. Pop snarls, "No, I didn't come here for your fucking money." Like it's completely unprecedented. Brian's like, okay, what's up? Pop says that he's got cancer. Brian freezes. Pop continues that it's spread all over, and it was originally discovered during a routine physical last summer. Brian, holding "Gus" close, apologizes. Pop says that Brian's mother, who he irritatingly refers to as "The Warden," wanted to tell Brian and his sister, but Pop decided he was going to do it. A sister? Yesssss. You were wise to hide her. If you cannot be turned to the Dark Side, perhaps she will! Wait a minute, that doesn't fit. Cough. Sorry. Brian mutters thanks. "Gus" keeps trying to push away from him and see something, anything, Christ, this kid is bored. The Chinese delivery guy shows up, and tells Brian that he didn't forget the sesame noodles this time. Brian glares at him, as "Gus" tries unsuccessfully to fit his whole fist in his mouth.
David's, the morning. David pours orange juice into a couple of Mike's Captain Astro glasses. In a voice that one would use with a slow five-year-old, David explains to Hank that Mike just moved in: "So all the funny things you see around here, like, uh, Captain Astro? That's his." Hank's hunched over the dining-room table, reading the paper, and mumbles, "He must be even younger than I thought." Mike, creeping down the stairs, heard that, and tries to creep back up. Hank announces that Cisco is up; David's like, "You read the stock page?" Hank shrugs, "Don't you?" Well, I don't, but Coop does. I prefer hiding my money in a sock underneath my mattress, and occasionally I set fire to stacks of it in an open field. Six of one, half freakin' dozen of the other. David shrugs that he generally sticks to sports, and pulls out a box of Cap'n Crunch. He asks if that's still Hank's favorite, and Hank sighs, "Uh, actually, I only eat sugar-free, non-fat, organic mueslix." Huh? Oh, right. Oregon. David's taken aback, but figures that it explains why Hank's grown so much: "You must be a foot taller than you were the last time I saw you." Hank, enthusiastically: "I wear a six shoe now. Dad bought me these awesome Adidas..." David's face falls, as Hank stops himself and corrects, "I mean, Gary." Ouch. Oooh. Ow ow. David thrusts his hand in the Cap'n Crunch box and gamely shoves some into his mouth. Hank hunches up some more and looks fairly uncomfortable, what with that size six foot stuck halfway down his esophagus and all. David grins that he's going to buy Hank "an awesome pair of pants to go with those." Mike finally makes it downstairs. He asks Hank how he slept, and Hank grins slyly, "Okay. How about you?" Mike, with a zoom-in flash, chooses to read more into that than there probably was. David kisses Mike and tells him to grab some breakfast: "We leave in twenty minutes." Mike asks what the rush is, and David replies, "I don't want to waste any time. We've got a million things to do. I'll get my wallet, and you guys get dressed." This has death written all over it. Mike pours himself some Cap'n Crunch, as Hank inspects him from behind the stock pages. Mike tries to engage him in conversation, asking, "So, you must be really happy to see your dad, huh?" Nothing. Mike tries again: "He's been talking about your visit non-stop --" Finally, Hank slams down the paper and snaps, "Look, I didn't want to come here, okay? At all. My mom made me, so I just have to put up with it until I can go home." And up goes the newspaper wall again. Mike's shocked. David jounces down the stairs, and grumps at them to get ready to go,:"We've got a big day. Pittsburgh's waiting for us." Kill me now. Hank glares at Mike and gets up from the table.
Debbie's. Justin's making breakfast, and what looks like waffles and eggs and bacon for, like, thirty. Justin asks Vic, sitting at the table, how he wants his waffles: "In peaches and grand Marnier, or with cherries and rum?" Vic grins, "Better yet, Wolfgang, why don't you save the waffles and just serve the sauce. Straight up." I love me some Vic. Brian walks in, hauling "Gus" in his car seat, and grumbles that the baby just puked all over his leather jacket. Vic snickers, "A fashion critic already!" God help us if he gets a look at Emmett, then. Debbie walks in and asks whether she may hold him, and Brian snorts, "Yeah. Be my guest." "Gus" looks like he's about to crack up at all her cooing and fawning. And, seriously, with that wig of hers, who can blame him? Debbie asks the baby how he's doing, and Brian answers, tiredly, "He's aces, but I suspect he misses his mother's touch." Debbie says that she can take care of that, and Brian's warped mind starts to hatch a plan. He saunters up to Debbie and smiles, "You know, if you'd be interested in satisfying your maternal urges for a longer period of time -- recreating the amber hues of Michael's childhood for an entire evening, for instance -- that could be arranged." Debbie, giggling, and still talking in a baby voice, asks, "You want to go to the lea-ther ba-all, huh?" Busted! Unfortunately for Brian, Debbie's working graveyard at the Diner. Vic rummages through his arsenal of drugs, throws down an empty bottle, and excuses himself. Debbie tells him to wash his pills down with bottled water: "None of that shit from the Susquehanna." Vic's like, yeah, yeah, yeah. "Gus" being the mercurial baby that I fear, falls asleep on Debbie's shoulder. Which means, any moment, he's going to wake up crying. And everyone's going to be running around trying to figure out what the hell's wrong, and all he'll be thinking is, "I'm awake! It startled me!" But enough with my maternal issues.
As Vic walks out, Brian thoughtfully mutters, "It must be tough living with that." Debbie really takes a look at him and realizes something's wrong. She hands the baby to Justin and asks what's up, like, maybe Brian found out he's HIV-positive. Brian shakes his head: he's fine, but his Dad has cancer. Justin's mouth drops open again. Brian says that Pop Kinney came by the night before to tell him. Debbie asks how long he has, and Brian shrugs, casually, fooling absolutely no one -- except maybe "Gus," who's still asleep -- "A couple of months, tops." Brian plops down into an easy chair. Debbie gently says, "Well, then, if you don't mind the free advice, from someone who's known you a lot longer than you've known yourself ["Word." -- Camper], you should tell him." Brian's like, tell him what? Debbie sighs that he knows she's talking about, and that he shouldn't play dumb. But you know, speaking from a historical perspective, I'm not sure he's playing. Anyway, Debbie tells him, "He made a very big gesture in telling you about himself, and I'm saying you should return the favor." Telling his only son -- who, I'm sorry, he does see on a semi-regular basis -- that he has cancer and he's going to die, is like, "a big gesture"? Isn't that pretty standard practice? At any rate, Brian snarls, "No fucking way! My father hasn't known anything about my life for twenty-nine years -- or cared -- why should I bother now?" And also, is anyone still buying this "why should I tell my dad I'm gay? I don't care what he thinks" crap anymore? Because I'm not. That whole line has "fear of rejection" written all over it, okay? Debbie says that it'll be good for him. Brian: "To tell a dying man that I'm queer?" Debbie: "To be honest." Brian: "I'm always honest." Debbie: "You think you are." Triple word score for the P-FLAG mom. Frankness and honesty are not even the same thing. Neither are boldness and honesty. Or boldness and frankness. Or any of those other things that Brian is that he thinks are "honest," but are really just one big, annoying, rude-ass front. Debbie tells him, "How honest is it to let your father go to his grave without ever really knowing who his son is, honey?" That gets Brian out of the chair and across the room. Debbie rolls her eyes and follows him: "Look, I know you think he never loved you, but it might be a way to get through to him. For whatever it's worth. Before it's too late." Brian doesn't respond to that, but tries to re-erect The Front: "If I wanted a therapist, I'd look in the fucking yellow pages." Debbie snorts, "Yeah, but I'm a lot cheaper, and I don't take off August." Brian pretends to ignore her, and goes back into the kitchen with Justin and the baby. As predicted, "Gus" has woken up, and is making unhappy noises. Justin guesses that he's hungry, and asks if he can feed him. Brian's eyes light up with another evil little plot is born. He asks Justin, "What are you doing tonight?" Justin's going to be severely disappointed at the offer coming up, I bet.
David, Michael, and Hank walk out of the aquarium over a bridge. It looks way cold, man, and they're all bundled up to hell and gone. David cheerfully exclaims, "Man, isn't that aquarium incredible? Man, I could stare at those fish tanks forever!" Mike checks his watch and notes that it wasn't quite forever, just five hours. Five hours?! I told you: Fun + David = Death on a Stick. David gushes, "This is so great! I love being here together, just you, me, and Michael." Hank agrees, like someone's slipping him money underneath the table to do it. Then he scowls once David looks away. Mike asks whether they're going to get some lunch soon -- "All those fish made me hungry for chicken" -- but no! They have to get to the museum to see the dinosaur exhibit. Hank says that he hasn't been to see dinosaurs since he was in third grade; but in a tone that could be mistaken for enthusiasm, and that's how David chooses to take it. "Ha!" he chortles, "I love dinosaurs. Nice to know there's a creature actually older than me." Mike laughs, like a good indentured servant...uh, "domestic partner." And it's what, one or two by now? Boy needs to eat. Boy also needs to be asked what he'd like to do with his father, not to be handed playtime marching orders. I'm having trouble breathing just watching the poor bastard. David says that after they go to the museum, they have to go to the batting cage, and then afterward, there's an arcade he wants to check out that's supposed to be pretty cool, but that he doesn't say anything about hauling lover and son home on his shoulders once they've dropped dead from exhaustion. Mike pauses for a second, grits his teeth, and shovels after his companions.
Babylon! Let the Leather Ball commence! HDGBs dance, cavort, and suck face, sporting the latest in leather codpieces, leather collars, leather caps, leather bikinis. Not much in the way of pants, though. Excuse me while I faint from shock.
Whew! Right. Where were we? Hey, they've found some black people in Toronto. Good for them. Up on a balcony, T&E watch the debauchery below. Ted's wearing jeans and a polo shirt, like always. He groans to Emmett, "I can't believe you went out dressed like that." Emmett, leaning against the balcony bars, but facing Ted, replies, "My mother used to say, 'Find your best feature and play it for all it's worth.'" He then turns around. And, yes, he's wearing leather pants with the seat cut out. Sigh. And no offense, or anything, but that's not his best feature. Mama's going to be disappointed. Emmett carps on Ted for not dressing up at all. Ted pathetically claims that he's wearing a leather belt. Emmett replies, "You are such a stick in the mud!" Ladies and Gentlemen, Please welcome This Week's Hammer. Hold your applause, please. Ted grumps, "Why, just because I don't want to look like a cross between a storm trooper and Roy Rogers?" Emmett, looking around, replies, "Stop it, you're giving me a hard-on." Two men walk by, one dragging the other by a leash and collar. Emmett muses, "I hope he's housebroken." Ha! Brian stalks up to them, encased in leather and puffing on a stogie. He grabs Emmett from behind: "Hello, Big Bottom! How would you like to polish mah boots with your tongue?" Emmett cracks up. Ted rolls his eyes, "Like I said." Emmett's surprised to see Brian there; doesn't he have "Gus" this weekend? Brian says that he found a sitter. Ted tells them both to have fun; he's going home: "To my leather recliner. That's about as kinky as I get." He's distracted by hooting and hollering below: the S&M show is about to start! Fascinated, he watches a man in a mask whip another man tied to...I don't know, some sort of Tree of Pain. Close-ups of butt-cheeks clenching. Close-ups of the whip going back and forth. Close-up of Ted, wide-eyed and horrified, but unable to look away. Back to the Butt-ClenchCam, and seriously, dude, quit redialing 411, the line's busy, okay? When the whipper (I know nothing about this scene, and I'm not even going to pretend to want to) removes his mask and unties the other guy, Emmett gasps, "Oh, my God, isn't that...?" Ted whispers, shocked, "Dale Wexler!" Emmett grins, "Well, now you know one of his secrets, dontcha?"
David's bedroom. David, undressed and on top of the covers, exalts, wow, that was quite a day, huh? Mike, who looks like he's getting dressed rather than undressed -- not that David's noticed yet, or anything -- replies, "No kidding. I think I've seen more of Pittsburgh in twelve hours then I've seen my whole life." David laughs cluelessly, continuing, "You know, he's different every time I see him. I have to spend the couple of days we have together just getting to know him, before he's gone again." Talking to him helps. Might wanna try that. Enjoy the things he wants to do. Let him eat when he wants to. Just saying. David finally realizes that Mike's getting dressed, and asks what's up. Mike cautiously explains, "Don't flip out, but I think I should stay at my old place tonight." David, about to flip out, asks why, and Mike says that he thinks Hank's uncomfortable with him at the house. David asks whether Hank actually said that, and Mike has to admit that it wasn't in so many words: "The silences told me everything I needed to know." David yanks the chain a little: "Well, you have to let him get to know you. Give him a little time." Mike replies, "I don't think he wants to get to know me, and I don't blame him. This whole 'Hank has two daddies' thing is too much for any kid." Dave puts on his prune-face: "He had no problem when I was with Mack." Mike says that Hank was a lot younger then, no offense: "Now he's older and he's starting to define his own sexuality, I think it's pretty unsettling to see his dad and his new male lover." But that logic just doesn't fit into Dr. Dave's world, so in his best patronizingly dismissive voice, he replies, "The only way he's going to get used to it is by having you around." Mike thinks that they should ease him into it, but David shakes his head: "You're not going anywhere." Mike pleads that it will only be for a couple of days. Didn't you hear David say no? What do you think this is, a democracy? David reassures him that Hank's going to be fine: "And so are we." Yeah, well, Hank gets to leave soon, so he'll be fine, but I'm pretty sure that you two are screwed. David pulls down Mike's pants, trying to get him undressed for bed, and lo and behold, Mike's wearing the Captain Astro undies. Ha. Ha. Ha.
Babylon! Ted cautiously looks at the S&M equipment on the dance floor, until Dale walks up to him. Dale said that he thought he recognized him: "But I thought, wait a minute, can't be, not Ted Schmidt." Ted gives him a wan smile. Dale asks, "So, this is a surprise. So, you, uh, a Daddy...a master...a slave?" Shyeah, right. Ted replies that he's "none of the above. [He's] just here as an observer." Dale: "Yeah, that's what they all say. And then thing you know, there they are in a sling with a bottle of poppers stuck up their nose and five guys fisting them." Ew. I mean, to each his own, but, uh, ewww. Ted bumbles, "Uh, rest assured that's not the case with me. A friend of mine dragged me here --" Just then, Emmett is pulled past them by the cowboy they saw upstairs. Emmett giggles, "Cowboy Bob lassoed me. He promised to take me back to his stable, tie me up like a squealing pig, and brand me! Yee-hah!" I love Emmett. He can have fun wherever, and it's just cool. Ted nods that Emmett's the friend who dragged Ted here. Dale replies, "Now he's being dragged away. Lucky him." Ted doesn't quite know what to say to that, but finally fumbles, "Yeah, well, I know you've probably got another slave you've got to work over, or whatever, so don't let me keep you." Dale replies, "That was just a matinee. Stick around -- the one is going to be really hot." Ted's so out of there. Dale says that maybe, after the show, Ted could come over to his place for a drink: "We can catch up." Ted insists that it's already pretty late, and Dale smirks, "Strictly as an observer." Before Ted can reply, though, Dale's slave shows up, and it's time for the show.
The Back Room of Sex. People in leather, having sex. One-on-one sex, two in a sling sex, group sex, you name it. It's a lot brighter in there than usual. Brian's there. Of course. Where else did you think he would be? He's already unzipped and has some Nameless Leather Guy all turned around and everything, when a bigger guy comes up and croons to Brian, "Hey, little boy. Wanna come back to my place?" Brian: "No." Ha! Bigger Guy's insistent, though, and Brian finally sighs, "Fuck you." Bigger Guy: "You'd like that, huh? I can tell you need a Daddy." Oh, please. First of all, shut up with the heavy-handed symbolism. And second, doesn't this guy recognize a Top when he sees one? Brian: "I said fuck you. You're not my Daddy." Bigger Guy keeps trying, until Brian finally pushes him off and yells, " I don't need a fucking --" And then more quietly, "...Daddy." Frustrated, Brian pulls out of the Nameless Leather Guy and stalks away. Wow. I almost didn't get that...ABOUT. TEN. MINUTES. AGO.
Dale's house. Ted perches stiffly on the far end of the couch, staring at a copy of Domination magazine on the coffee table. Dale walks in wearing a plush white robe and carrying two scotch glasses. Sitting down in a chair opposite, he tells Ted, "I've been 'Mr. Leather' for the past three years. I've held regional and national titles." Ted says that he's impressed. And surprised: "Who would have suspected? Especially considering your other life." Dale: "The one where I wear a suit and crunch numbers? Treat the clients with undeserved respect?" He shrugs, "That's not who I really am." Snicker. Ted's like, this is? Dale gets up to sit reeeeal close to Ted and continues, "It's amazing, Ted, how it's allowed me to expand my horizons. In other areas, too, even in business." Ted clears his throat: "So, being a leather daddy is the key to your success?" Dale nods, "Oh, you have no idea what can happen once...you give yourself permission." Ted nervously chuckles, "What -- to chain people up, to tie people down?" Dale says that can be the most liberating of all: "Relinquishing control. Allowing someone else to give you pain, pleasure. Whatever you most fear and desire." Ted, flummoxed, asks whether he may use the bathroom. Dale tells him it's downstairs -- down the intricate wrought-iron staircase, which leads to two doors. Ted picks the door on the right. Wrong door! Dale creeps up behind him, and smirks, "I see you've found my play room." Whips, chains, slings, chains, Tree of Pain, chains, you name it. Plus some more chains. Dale is fully stocked. Ted nervously backs into the room. Dale asks wheter Ted would like a demonstration. Ted most certainly would not, but, uh, thanks. Dale: "We'd both enjoy it. I always thought you were hot." Ted frowns. Really? Dale grins, "Vanilla boys are always the wildest. All those unfulfilled desires." See, I gotta tell my friend Chris that, because he was just complaining to me today that he was all boring and "vanilla" and he certainly isn't, but maybe Dale's analysis will make him feel better. Hmm. Maybe not. Dale takes off his robe, and he's still wearing his Master's costume underneath. Got quite a gut there, actually, but he carries it well. Dale: "Why don't you allow me to introduce you to yourself? To the real Ted Schmidt. I promise I won't do anything you don't want me to." Ted looks like the cat facing the monster in Alien. Don't move -- maybe he'll forget you're there. Dale reaches for Ted's nipple and adds, "You say stop, and I'll stop." He gives said nipple a twist, and that snaps Ted out of it; he jumps about fifty feet and tells Dale to stop, knocking over a bunch of clangy metal things in the process. Ted says that's not what he came for, and Dale smirks, "I know. You're just an observer." Ted says that he's seen enough, and that he's going home. Dale calls after him, "You know what I remember most about you? Every day in the school cafeteria, you'd have the same thing for lunch. I used to marvel how the menu never changed. I guess neither have you." Ted pauses, thanks him for the drink, and bails.
Brian's Loft. TLFKAM is there, holding "Gus," as Justin apologizes profusely. Brian's all, what the hell? Melanie stalks up to him, grabs his arm, and snaps, "He was going to give the baby hot milk. He didn't test it on his arm." Justin says that he had no idea -- and, debate on the boards notwithstanding, even if Justin did babysit his little sister, he still might not have known this. For one, although Justin is about ten years or so older than Molly, who's going to let a ten-year-old babysit an infant? And do you really think Jennifer Taylor would have let little Justin heat up Molly's milk? I don't think so. Plus, it is dangerous; the last thing you want is a baby with a scalded mouth. Really, the point is, Justin's babysitting skills notwithstanding, Brian's priorities are completely screwed up. Camper out. TLFKAM continues, "I'm glad I walked in when I did. Gus could have been scalded." Justin repeats that he's really sorry; Brian wants to know what the hell she's doing there. TLFKAM says that she got back early, and got a message from Lindsay about "Gus" being at Brian's, so she came by to check on him. Very sweet, but she more or less forfeited her privileges when she romped with the Sapphic Slut, didn't she? Whatever. She adds that it's a good thing she did -- because Justin doesn't feel bad enough -- and snaps, "Pawning him off on anyone so you can go to a fucking Leather Ball?" Way screwed up. Brian points out that Justin isn't just "anyone," and while that's true, dude, two days without anonymous sex so you can spend time with your son isn't hackable? Justin cries out that he loves "Gus." TLFKAM caresses him on the cheek and says she knows, and this isn't about him. She hands "Gus" to Justin and faces off against Brian: "This is about you, and what an irresponsible shit you are." Good point, but habit forces to me also to point out that TLFKAM wasn't exactly the model of baby-preservation behavior when she fucked the Sapphic Slut and basically left Lindsay high and dry with a mortgage, a baby, and extended maternity leave. That's dangerous to the baby's welfare, too. But we're not talking about what a shit TLFKAM is; we're talking about Brian. Sorry. Force of habit. Brian says that he only went out for a couple of hours. TLFKAM yells, "Yeah, well, the thing about parenthood is, you don't anonymous sex breaks twice a day." But you do get to have meaningless affairs and abandon the child you keep referring to as yours, if you feel like it. Grr. Okay. To her credit, TLFKAM is not the only one who'll be bringing the hypocrisy this ep (ease those shoulders down there, GuitarGal). St. L. will be home soon -- she of the See No-Check-From-Brian, Hear No-Check-From-Brian School of Motherhood. TLFKAM demands that Brian give her his car keys so she can get the car seat out of his Jeep, she's taking "Gus" home. "Gus" could seriously not care less, and I gotta tell you, this blasé attitude he's sporting is really starting to grow on me. Brian snorts, "No you're not. This is his home. At least for this weekend." TLFKAM snaps, "Your privileges have been revoked!" I'm sorry, his privileges have been revoked? Brian yells, "Don't fucking tell me what my privileges are! I'm his father. Who are you?" That was fairly harsh, but really, hello. TLFKAM kisses "Gus" on the forehead and says, "I may be no one, but at least I know that his needs come before mine. Which is more than can be said about you." Debatable. See: Sapphic Slut Incident and Aftermath. I'm not saying that she doesn't love the baby, because it's obvious she does. I merely suggest she trade in that high horse for a Shetland pony, ya know?
The day, David, Hank, and Michael play hockey at an outdoor rink. Well, David and Hank are playing. Michael's watching them from a bench on the sidelines. David makes a goal off of Hank -- who doesn't even look like he was trying too hard, anyway -- and skates over to Michael. David gushes (and you kind of have to admire how much he digs his kid) that Hank scored the winning goal in a championship match last year. David asks Mike why he's on the sidelines. Mike can't skate. Mike told him he couldn't skate. But that didn't fit into The Perfect World Plan, so David ignored it. David says he'll help Mike. This has disaster written all over it. Hank skates over to them as David struggles to keep Mike upright on the ice. Mike snaps, "If God wanted me to be on ice, he would have made me a Vodka martini. I could use a drink about now. What is this, 'fags on ice'?" David laughs, "No, that's the Olympic Figure Skating Team." Hee. He finally gets Michael standing okay, when his cell phone rings. He asks Hank to help Michael and takes the call. While Michael and Hank desperately lean on each other, David skates leisurely circles around them while talking on the phone. Ha! Anyway, it's his office; one of the Pittsburgh Penguins threw his back out, and they need Dr. Dave to realign it. He apologizes to Hank for having to go. Hank manages to hold back tears of relief. Mike, on the other hand, is not so relieved; what the heck is he going to do with Hank for the rest of the day? David says that he won't be long. Mike panics that he and Hank don't know each other very well. David sternly replies that they'll get to, won't they? Besides which, Resistance Is Futile. Mike says that David doesn't understand. David's more or less done with this conversation, but humors Mike -- what doesn't he understand? Mike says that Hank was looking forward to spending time with his dad, not his dad's boy toy! David repeats that he won't be gone for long, and that as long as Mike sticks to the Bataan Death March...er, "itinerary," they should both have a good time and everything will be fine. For some reason, this doesn't instill Michael with a sense of confidence. Can't see why. After David leaves, Mike looks back at Hank, who just glides away from him without a word.
Liberty Diner. Debbie hands Ted and Emmett menus as Brian joins them in the booth. Debbie chuckles, "So, how did it go last night, 'Daddy'?" Brian groans, and asks her not to use that word in his presence. Debbie replies that someone certainly is grouchy today. "That's what happens when you tend to a tot, see? Not an easy job. I'm proud of you, Brian, huh? Sacrificing the Leather Ball?" Ted and Emmett are like, not so fast, there. Emmett drawls, "Altruism is his middle name." Ted catches the pass and dunks it: "Is that what the 'A' stands for?" What, it doesn't stand for "Able"? Debbie bubbles that she never thought Brian would do something like that in a million years, and she's impressed. Justin walks up at the end of that, and is like, uh, I'm -- Brian pulls him down and whispers, "Give me up, and I'll tie your balls up so tight, they'll ache for a week." Justin's not sure; is this punishment? Brian confirms that it surely is. Justin smiles sweetly at Debbie and just says he "helped." Debbie's proud of him, too. Emmett interrupts to say that "all this talk about babies has given [him] a craving for the baby back ribs." There's something quite unsettling about that. Ted starts, "I'll have the, uh --" Emmett continues, "Tuna fish on white bread." Debbie picks it up, "Double mayo." Brian continues, "With coleslaw." Justin brings it home: "With vanilla pudding." Ted swears, "Christ, am I really that predictable?" Debbie: "No, honey, you're just reliable." Ted grumps, "Thanks ever so." Tee hee! Emmett shakes his head: "It's just not your style to be spontaneous. Wild! Reckless!" Ted grouches, "No, it's my style to never take chances, never let myself go, never put my ass in a sling. I mean, on the line." Debbie's like, chill, it's only lunch. Ted: "In that case, I'll have the Cajun catfish, the Thai noodles, and the papaya mango salsa on the side." Debbie: "Letting go does not mean getting the runs." Brian, never one to forgo a knife twist, pats Ted on the hand and smirks, "It doesn't matter what you eat. You'll always be old, old, reliable Ted."
Pittsburgh at large. Mike's trying: "You know, it's amazing how you can live in a city all your life, and never realize how many wonderful sights and attractions there are. For instance, who knew that there was something called 'The Scream Machine' at the Carnegie Science Center? Experiencing G-force was certainly a stomach-turning, nail-biting science education for me." Hank says nothing. Mike continues: "What made it even more memorable was the large pepperoni pizza we'd shared moments before." I'll bet. Hank asks whether they may go home now. Mike's like, what, miss something I'm not even going to bother transcribing because David's such a control freak and I'm tired of him? Hank doesn't answer. Mike stops him and says, "Look, I know this isn't easy for you -- you know, having a dad who's...well, different from other fathers, and I'm sure it doesn't make it easier seeing him with me." Hank shrugs, "So he's gay. Big deal. I've only known about it since I was, like, nine." Mike asks why Hank's not psyched to be there, and Hank explodes: "He drives me nuts! He's got to have every single moment planned: the Incline, the Museum, the Aquarium. I mean, that may have been fun when I was kid, but how many times can you see fish?!" Mike laughs, "Why don't you ever tell him to back off?" Hank: "Have you ever tried telling him to back off?" Word. Mike agrees that the kid has a point, but David just wants Hank to have a good time. Hank looks in one of the store windows and gasps, "Oh, my God, check it out! Scorpionhead, #34!" Mike's amazed too: "Holy shit, I've been looking for that my entire life!" So has Hank. Mike says that you can't even find that comic on eBay, it's so rare. They groove on how cool Scorpionhead is, and romp into the store to take a look.
Brian pulls up into the driveway of the Kinney residence. Pop is cleaning out some boxes in the garage. Turning to Brian, he tells him that his mother is in the kitchen, and asks him to get himself a cup of coffee, and a refill for his old man. Brian asks if he shouldn't be taking it easy; Pop says he'll have plenty of time to rest when he's dead, and that the garage needs cleanin'. Pop pulls out a bowling ball and tosses it at Brian. They share memories of Pop's bowling team; Brian would come watch them play when he was a kid. Not doing much to establish a lack of relationship, here. Brian tries to talk to him about the other night, and Pop apologizes for not calling before he came over: "Like the warden says, 'That's what they make telephones for.'" I hate that he calls his wife "The Warden." That's so obnoxious. Pop, perhaps feeling my ire, drops the box he's carrying. Brian picks up the box for him and tells his father that they need to talk. Pop says that's the first time that he's ever heard Brian say that. Brian's like, that's 'cause it's the first time I ever have: "I just thought maybe we could, uh..." Pop nods, "Sneak it under the wire? [moving over toward more boxes] I've got some books, here..." Brian: "I'm gay." Pop pauses, startled, then turns around: "Well, you picked a hell of a fucking time to tell me you're a fairy. As if I don't have enough to deal with. Jesus." Brian looks away, and Pop adds, "You're the one that should be dying, instead of me." I can't even describe how horrible that is, the way he says it, but I felt it down into my toes. He tries to walk away, but Brian grabs him and makes to punch him in the face. Instead, Brian hesitates, and then punches one of the boxes instead, sending it flying. Getting in his father's face, Brian snarls, "But I'm not dying, you selfish old prick. You are." Pop is visibly cowed by this, and watches Brian stalk out of the garage.
David's. Mike and Hank are on the floor of the living room, surrounded by comics and having a great time. David walks in, and Hank tells his father that they found the cool comic, and Mike tells his boyfriend that he owes him a hundred and fifty bucks. Ha! Hank runs upstairs to page his friend who's also into Scorpionhead. David tries to stop him and ask about his day, but Hank's up the stairs too quickly. Mike tells David that they had "a blast." David asks Mike to tell him about the Incline, and Mike admits that they didn't really follow the schedule, but went to the comic book store instead. David dangerously intones, "What about all the things I had planned? You sat around here all day and read comics?!" Fire in the hole! ["No pun intended." -- Wing Chun] Mike replies, "Well, that's what Hank wanted. Don't take this the wrong way, but he's not too crazy about the schedule. He doesn't understand why you have to drag him around every minute." David snaps, "Who's dragging him around? I just want him to have a good time." As David jumps up, Mike replies, "Well, maybe his idea of a good time is different than yours, and you didn't bother to find out what his was." David yells, "Don't tell me how to raise my son!" Mike says that he isn't, he's just trying to help, and David snarls, "Now, all of a sudden, you're a fucking authority?" Okay, are we all off Dr. Dave, now? Thought so. Mike's hanging in there, still: "He's not happy here! He wants to go home, and not for the reasons I thought, but because of you. You're the problem" Well, that's straight to the point, isn't it? David nods curtly, and bolts away from him.
Dale's. Ted enters Dale's dungeon. Dale puts on his mask and, unbuttoning Ted's shirt, intones, "There are many pleasures to be found here. Places you were afraid to even think of going. I can take you there, but first you must surrender to me, completely." He asks Ted if he surrenders, and Ted agrees. Dale corrects him -- in there, it's, "I surrender, Sir." Ted adds the "Sir." Dale tells Ted that he is now "Slave," and starts to unbutton his pants. Ted grouses that it's kind of cold in the dungeon, and Dale snaps that he didn't say Ted could speak. Ted apologizes, and Dale sternly reminds him to add the "Sir," so Ted complies. Ted pushes down his pants, and Dale tells him to do exactly what he's told. Turning Ted around with his whip (during which we get a brief glimpse of Fully-Frontal Ted, but not much) and straps him to the tree of pain. Dale caresses the back of Ted's body with his hands, and then pulls out the whip.
Back at the airport. Walking down the concourse, David says that he thought he and Hank could go whitewater rafting this summer. Hank tells him that he'll be going to baseball camp. David says that they could go hiking at Thanksgiving, but Hank's going to his grandparents' house. David says, okay, that takes us to Christmas, and Hanks shouts, "You just don't get it, do you?" David says that Michael told him Hank wasn't having a very good time, and David didn't want to believe him; it's just that he was trying really hard to.... Hank says that that's just it: "You just try too hard." David says that he doesn't get to see Hank that often: "For those few days that I'm lucky enough to have you, I just want it to be something special. Something so that you'll remember me. So that you won't forget me." Hank replies, "When I'm with you, I'm getting away from Mom and Gary, and all that bullshit and stress that happens at school, and I just want to hang out, and not have to worry about doing something every single minute of my day." David nods, "You mean just like lying around, reading comics?" Yeah. Like that. Hank's plane is called. David says that he'd better run along, and call him when he gets home, no matter how late. Hank thanks Mike for the comic and gives him a hug, then gives David a bigger one. Cool kid. He can come back. I don't mind. As Hank walks off, Mike grins that he kind of likes being a stepmother, and David grins, "For someone who never had a father, you sure do know a lot about being one." Mike replies, "Well, I just imagine what I'd want a dad to be like if I did." Mike adds that they have the house all to themselves, so what does David feel like doing? (Hint, hint.) David shrugs, "I don't know. Laundry? Bookeeping?" Mike's like, uh, huh, "Try again, stud."
Brian's. Brian's getting undressed, and St. L.'s busy tearing him a new one: "You gave me your word! You swore I could trust you with him." Brian says that the new one TLFKAM tore him hasn't healed yet. Now he has two new ones, which is about two too many in order to function under normal parameters. Lindsay yells, "You say you want to be his fucking parent, then be his fucking parent, but don't tell me that you're going to be there when you're not! You've never been there for anyone other than yourself!" Multiple thousand-dollar checks notwithstanding, of course. There's a knock at the door, and a voice calls, "Hey, sonny boy! Anyone home?" Brian walks into the living room, and there's Pop Kinney. Brian asks him what the hell he wants. Pop says that he'll only be a minute; he found an old picture of him with Brian when Brian was a baby, and wanted his son to see it. Brian marvels that his father is actually smiling in the picture, and Pop Kinney snorts, "It's a photograph -- isn't that what you're supposed to do?" Brian drops the photo on the ground and says that he doesn't want it. Pop replies that Brian might change his mind after he's gone. Brian: "I doubt it." Brian walks back up into the bedroom platform. Pop calls after him, "You know, you can really pack a wallop for a fairy. Just don't tell your mother, you understand?" He shuts up when he sees Lindsay sitting on the bed. She reintroduces herself, but Pop remembers, and asks her to call him "Jack." Brian snorts, "You still think you're a ladies' man?" Pop ignores him and tells Lindsay, "You have yourself a beautiful son." He turns to leave, but Brian stops him: "There's someone else I want you to say hello to." Brian picks up "Gus" and tells Pop that he's his grandson. Pop, being old-school, is understandably confused, but Brian says, nope, this is my kid, all right. Lindsay asks whether Pop would like hold him, and Pop's delighted. "Gus" looks at him like, "Wow. You're old. And I really still don't know what the hell I'm doing here." Brian picks up the picture he dropped on the ground, and looks back and forth between it and his own father and son.
week, Justin gets harassed at school because he's gay, so he decides to go political, leading to many troubles. A strange French man has moved in with Lindsay and refuses to let TLFKAM see either her or Gus. And I get to go home to L.A. and marvel at how tan everyone is, and not smoke in bars. Thank God they still allow them to drink in them, though. Yes, I'm still doing the recap. Maybe even earlier than usual, woohoo!