Should I Stay Or Should I...JUST GO

S02E07

Fade in on a vintage-looking chartered bus, whose apparent origin point was "the 1950s," traveling down a lonely stretch of highway toward its destination, clearly marked on the top of the bus as "Special." Awww. They're special. The faux-mysterious anthem of the sovereign nation of Planet Arium again clogs up a soundtrack better suited for some product-placed Destiny's Child in order to corral some cash into a show's F/X budget desperately in need of some serious government subsidy. And fast, before I have to suffer through the continued indignity of watching a production assistant kick over a pile of Lincoln Logs while yelling varied permutations of "boom" and "crash" and calling it a building explosion, such as the non-spectacle to be found at the end of last week's episode. Just a thought. A great thought.

Cut to the kitchen of Chez Evans, where an unnecessarily resurgent Bangs holds up a quiche of some kind and announces that it is a "Frijoles Frittata," which "Martha Stewart serves...to her guests in the Hamptons." Ah, the Humor of the Patronized Housewife. Ain't adulation for Martha Stewart just like a woman? Bangs pauses for a second after placing the delicacy on the table and turns around to yell for "Philip!" Of course there is no immediate response, seeing as this so-called "Philip" hasn't appeared in an episode of Roswell since the middle of the first season sometime, so no matter how many times his reduced-to-cameo bride yells his vestigial character's name, he isn't coming downstairs to enjoy any Frijole Frittata today. Sorry, Bangs. Bangs leaves the room to determine which inflatable air mattress infomercial or final guest on a pre-empted episode of Kilborn or victim offed before the first commercial break on SVU soundstage her husband has disappeared to now that his stellar work on Roswell has qualified him for some résumé-building experience elsewhere. This leaves Max "Extra Flavor, Extra Fun, in Pecstra Sugar-Free Gum" Evans and his sister Isabel "Breast in Show" Evans alone at the table to discuss some weightier matters. But first, hilarity! They regard the quiche thing warily for a moment, and Max (shudder) smiles ever so slightly before asking, "Who needs a nice, big glass of juice?" They both stand and stage-direct toward the refrigerator as Max smiles (two words: Shud. Der.) and, er, jokes, "I warned you about getting her a subscription to that magazine." And which magazine would that be exactly, Martha Stewart Yawning? Get. On. With. It. Isabel ignores him the appropriate amount Max Evans deserves to be ignored (that being "utterly" and "entirely"), and when he asks after this trend of non-communication, she pours the juice glasses half-full (what are they, five?) and rationalizes thusly, "We destroyed a race of people. I'm just trying to get past it." Max asks if there's anything else wrong, and she promises there is not. Max half-smiles, inspiring the predictable and involuntary ensuing half-a-shudder. Shud.

Back on the deserted highway, the Special Bus rides moodily. In my elementary school days, we had a bus we used to call The Special Bus, but it didn't so much describe where it was going as it described the people who rode on it. But I'm going to just leave it at that, seeing as it is totally not germane to the plot. Not to mention the suit of armor I'd have to walk the streets in to fend off the backlash I'd have to endure if I lapsed into a pointless and completely offensive digression about the Short Bus kids, anyway. I'd need a freakin' helmet. Hey, Short Bus kid? Can I borrow your helmet for a sec?

Sorry.

Cut to a more substantial body of water than one would reasonably expect to find in the middle of a landlocked desert, where Kyle "Smoked Buddha" Valenti and his faithful dad Porno sit on rocks and fish the day away in a bonding-type fashion. Suddenly, Kyle feels a, er, tug on his line (an action it seems many of the forum regulars would be more than happy to provide these days ["Woo hoo! Gay sex! Oh, sorry, wrong recap." -- Sars]), and stands up in a hurry as Porno reaches into the water and pulls out a substantially-sized fish. Porno product-places the fishing tackle for some reason and celebrates the size of Kyle's wriggling fish (an action many of the forum regulars would be...oh, never mind). A bizarrely long pause ensues after Porno celebrates, "We'll be eating like kings tonight," and I have to marvel at the discipline it must have taken the "writers" of this episode to eliminate the wholly inappropriate stage direction "they kiss passionately" from this pregnant moment of non-activity in the script. Good work all around. Kyle marvels at the beauty of his catch for a moment, then gently places the fish back in the water and notes, "It's a circle, dad. The circle of life." Porno thinks his son is a big ol' fruitcake. The forum regulars desire to believe otherwise.

The Jetta sails down this show's one stretch of road marked "Stock Footage Highway Blue Screen" and past a road sign marked "Roswell: 2 Miles." They're out of town, too? My, what an essential and carefully constructed set of unexplained coincidences being set up here. Maria "My Name Is" DeLuca "I Live on the Second Floor" drives and snarks while her shotgun passenger Liz "Saturday in the" Parker...hell, I never know what she's doing. Liz brays that Maria needs to "step on it" so they can get "this thing" back to the Crashdown in time for the "lunch rush." Maria responds that she can't believe Liz's father, Slackjaw, would send them so far out of town on "an errand," commenting that such overuse of underage employees is "totally Kathie Lee." Oh, Maria. That joke is so over that we here at MBTV all got it out of the way in one of our first five recaps within ten days of the site going live. Your situation isn't "so Kathie Lee." That joke is so Kathie Lee.

Cut briefly to a shot of a green billboard reading, "UFO Center, Exit Central Ave. South, 2 miles at Pixton" to a cartoon rendering of a helmeted (short bus alien, 'haps?) little Judy the Time-Life Operator alien guy. Through the nether region of the alien's lower abdomen is stuck a mysteriously glowing orb (no, really), which is several feet long and very, very, very phallic. And very, very, very green. Suddenly, this "Greenis" (figure it out) begins glowing an even brighter green, then flashes white and shoots its load of a green glowing ball, which flies about two miles to the south and creates a green cloud over neighboring Roswell. Quite a projectile distance on that. Virile little bastard.

Back at Chez Evans, the Funny Frittata subplot continues unabated as Max, Isabel, and Bangs sit around the kitchen table chewing, chewing, chewing. Bangs asks a taboo question about why "that cute Liz Parker" hasn't been calling lately, and, mouth full of comedy, Max changes the subject and asks for another slice of Frittata. Bangs is flattered. She looks away, and Isabel takes this opportunity to hork a mouthful of quiche crap into her napkin. Bangs stands to fetch another slice for him (even though she put the damn thing down on the table they're sitting at, like, five continuity-eschewing seconds ago), and special effects are cleverly avoided as we cut to a shot of Max's face and the sound of a plate hitting the floor. Max and Isabel stand: "Mom?" But Mom is gone and the Frittata is everywhere. Bye forever, Bangs. Contract negotiation sure can be a bitch, eh? Just ask that husband of yours. Oh, that's right. You can't. He's gone, too.

Hey, you guys? Ever seen that Twilight Zone episode where the couple wakes up in a bed they don't recognize and find an unfamiliar town completely devoid of people? You say you've never seen it? Well, you can change your answer at any time...because you're watching it right now. The Jetta finds its way back to town, and Maria pulls behind several stopped cars right in the middle of the road. She veers around them at an exaggerated clip, when suddenly a baby carriage appears in front of the car and Maria slams into it hardcore. Wow. If you didn't hate her before for her wackiness, her spinelessness, or her abandoned wackiness, you are now free to add "kills babies" to your list of undesirable Maria DeLuca character traits. She stops the car in a hurry and runs over to the stroller, finding it empty. Liz and Maria begin to panic as they look around at the empty cars (which all should have crashed into each other, rather than just gliding to a stop in an orderly fashion), the toppled bicycles, the lawnmower that seems to be driving itself. Liz and Maria clutch at each other and Liz yells, "Where is everybody?" Centerville. Everybody's in Centerville. Go find that Twilight Zone episode. It's really good.

And, finally, the Short Bus pulls into Roswell and comes to a stop. The driver wishes them a good visit. The passengers step off, and one of them kisses the driver. Gage and his proxy Earth Mother with the femullet and the Southern Florida clothes step off last, Gage tugging at the cheap sunglasses affixed to his collar and dramatically intoning, "Let's find some aliens." Oooh, scary. Run! Cower in fear! The femullet could conquer even the power of the pecs.

Opening credits: Finally.

Sorry.

Opening credits: Finally.

The Pornomobile pulls up to a roadside clearing at the base of the defaced billboard featuring the long, unsightly alien Greenis sticking out of the middle. Porno picks up his radio and announces into it, "Deputy Hanson, we've got some property defacement out by the Chaparral Turnout. I need you to rustle up a ladder and take care of it." He puts down the CB and kicks off some digressive fishing banter, which culminates in a little fatherly the-arms-of-Vishnu-have-changed-you-and-I-don't-know-you-anymore rhetoric: "Different seems to be the story of your life these days. Guys don't come over to watch games anymore. You hang wind chimes in my backyard. Burn compost sticks in the kitchen." Porno sounds most disappointed about the part where Kyle's young friends don't come over to work up a glistening sweat in front of a particularly spirited sporting event, but I'm just talking here. And though my parents never did this, it always infuriated me when my friends' parents referred to a house as "my" because their kids didn't purchase it or pay the bills or whatever because they were, like, seven. Take it from me, parents just don't understand. Kyle calmly insists that he enjoyed the fishing, then attempts to explain his religious and ideological evolution to his father, who snarks in return, "You know what? If you laid off the mumbo-jumbo, you might get a date every once in a while." Jeez, Porno. Take your own damn advice. If you laid off trying to get Kyle's wrestling buddies to come over for a little of the old rough-and-tumble, you might also find yourself getting a little action that for once doesn't take the undesirable form of "legal action." I'm just sayin'. It must be the Greenis. It's clouding my sense of reason. Kyle asks if Porno has any complaints beyond his son's ability to fish and date, but Porno is too busy changing the subject to Hanson's apparent disappearance, and tears off without receiving a response. The Greenis looms forebodingly above them. Someone needs to tack on a "Not Drawn To Scale" label below that thing, or some impressionable girl watching this show is going to become a very, very disappointed young woman one day. ["I don't know what you mean." -- Sars]

Back at Chez Evans, Isabel returns to the kitchen with the fearful non-development, "I can't find Dad." Well, as previously discussed, duh. Isabel realizes she has announced this fact to an empty house, then sets about yelling Max's name over and over until his pecs carry his tiny, pin-like head back into the kitchen with his proclamation that the neighbor's house is empty as well. Emmy-clip dialogue ("What's happening?" "I don't know!") ensues, but its intense dramatic heft is practically drowned out by the rustling sound of Aaron Sorkin leaping off his couch in search of a pen. With which to gouge out his eyes. Isabel runs to the phone and dials a number, intones, "Oh, come on" (yeah, tell me about it), and slams the phone against the counter in fury after the third ring. Dude, it's called the answering machine. Disengage the panic button and wait one more ring for it. Isabel hugs Max furiously and recaps the episode thus far (hey, sister, I don't have the knockers for your job, so you lay off mine, got it?) for the benefit of those viewers who are just ending the grieving process of having perhaps seen Mary Camden for the very last time and just opened their tear-streaked eyes for the first time since 8:57: "Mom and Dad are missing. They're gone. We're the only ones left." Sniff sniff. Poor Mary.

But are they the only ones left? EH? Cut over to a tub filled with really murky water inside The House Government Subsidy Built, out of which pops Courtney, breathing hard. Sitting vigil by the side of the bath is Michael "Puffy? Yes. Combs? No" Guerin, who asks Courtney if she's put on the new husk. She has done so, noting that "the fit is okay." He touches her arm suggestively and tells her it feels like real skin, but she responds that since the husk isn't fully matured, she doesn't know how long it will hold up. Well, weren't all those people congregated in Arizona in last week's episode there for the husk harvest? Meaning that by now they would all be wearing their new skins anyway? I know I'm not the most attuned to plot out of all of us here, but it just seems to me this shouldn't be that big of a problem. Courtney also adds her contribution to the "previously on Roswell" filibuster taking over Roswell's remaining citizenry who clearly think I could use a little fine tuning, telling you, me, Michael, the Camdens, and Aaron Sorkin, "You saved my life by stealing this." Michael responds that she saved their lives in Copper Summit. Michael's phone, a 900-MHz cordless (filthy bastard), rings, and Michael picks it up to hear Max heavily breathing, "It's me. Meet us at the Crashdown right away." Click. Michael purses his lips, and then he purses his lips.

Everyone's back at the Crashdown. Isabel and Michael escort Courtney to a table, and Max pipes in, "If guns don't work, how do we kill them?" Courtney responds by bending over slightly (shut up and go with me, here. It's what happened, okay?) and pulling up a patch of skin in her lower back with an icky tearing noise that I hate, to reveal a silver button underneath. Oh, I'm sorry. I thought I heard "from another planet" and not "from Small Wonder's cutting-room floor" when we first found out who Courtney really was. She advises, "Take the heaviest thing that you can find and smash this as hard as you can. It breaks the seal on the husk permanently." Isabel worries about Gage's power, and Courtney foreshadows in a subtle fashion (in that faraway planet where "subtle" actually means "unsubtle"), "He can get inside of your head and take anything that he wants. Basically, he rapes you of your memories and your thoughts." Porno comments that they have to get everyone somewhere safe, and Max suggests the UFO Center because it's a former bomb shelter. Or at least it is for the purposes of this episode, seeing as I don't think we've ever known that before. Max divvies up tasks, delegating a job ("you run, you run faster, you hide, you run a little slower, yawn, blah, fee, flah, feh") to everyone but Kyle, who wonders why the dis. Max deadpans it: "You're not somebody I trust." Whoa. Early frost on Planet Bitchslap.

Max's "Let's move" instigates about two hours of the humans and aliens running junior-high versions of botched football plays across the street to the UFO Center, and I half expect Max to pull down a chart with Xs and Os drawn wildly across it and start bellowing like Pacino in Any Given Sunday, a movie I have never seen but reference authoritatively every so often. Such as now. Flattened against the wall outside the Crashdown, Max notes that they have to "split up into groups," then notes a faltering Porno and asks if he's okay. My phone rings. It's Jason Katims. "It's foreshadowing!" he screams. And then he hangs up. So now we know. Anyway, Michael and Kyle carry Courtney across the street, and Michael opens the door with his hand and they carry her in. up is Porno accompanying Tess, Liz, and Maria, and when it's just Max and Isabel, she asks if she can go find Gage and have it out with him alone. Max blah-blahs the stock speech about them being stronger together than they are apart, and Isabel agrees to Max's face until he turns around to find that she's bailed anyway. He takes off down the alley after her and away from the UFO Center. Cut back to Isabel, walking through town in plain sight toward the Short Bus. She spots a remote control car zooming around underneath said bus, which rounds a corner and slams into her foot. She turns around to face Gagecakes, who offers the gotcha surprise, "Boo." Which is just exactly how I feel about this scene, except with the addition of a thumbs-down hand gesture and about five thousand extra "Os" on the end.

UFO Center. Michael brings a shaking Courtney a bottle of water, telling her that they're going to pull together the ingredients for another bath. Lying down and breathing shallow and purple veined and it's all bad, she tells Michael that another bath isn't going to work: "I'm dying." Michael considers that "not an option," telling her that there has to be something they can do. There is. "But you won't want to do it." Michael indicates that he will do "anything," and for her to "just say it." And so she does. "The granolith." Boooooooooooo.

Inside the central office of the UFO Center, which has gotten considerably nicer -- and structurally bigger, somehow -- since this show's second-season slight budget bump, Kyle slams down a LAN line phone and bemoans the fact that he can't make an outside call. Dude, either try one of the fifty cell phones everyone carries around or don't call attention to it in the first place. Liz checks out an all-silver product-placed Mac (insert your own "there is no step three" joke here, seeing as I've run through my ration in one place or another on this site), noting a screen with an EKG kind of graph on it and teaching Kyle, "Do you see this jump on the graph? There's some sort of, like, electric disturbance that leveled off here." When? "Ten o'clock in the mornink." They reason that if they can find the source of the energy field and turn it off, that would theoretically bring everyone back. Eh? This foray into the knowledge Liz has gleaned in the "Hastily Assembled Scientific Improbabilities" chapter of one of her AP Science textbooks (remember when they used to go to class? Sigh...) is soon to be interrupted by the appearance of Porno, who dodders in distractedly and asks Liz for a moment alone with Kyle. She goes. Kyle tells Porno that he's "staying out of everyone's way," but Porno is breathing deeply and launches into the "I remember when you were THIS BIG" speech a drunken aunt hurls out at a wedding before she pinches your cheeks and makes you finally celebrate the fact that you're adopted. And you are adopted. Anyway, this is what he says: "Do you remember what you did the night after your mom left?" Kyle gave him his stuffed animal. Porno doth continue: "You worried about me. And you didn't want me sleeping alone, so you did instead." Dude, he TOOK the stuffed animal? That's really weak. Porno continues on that he remembers when Kyle first learned to tie his own shoes and when they took the training wheels off his bike, before he launches into a hardcore Christopher Walken impersonation with the coming-of-age celebration, "I'm in awe. Of you. Every day, son. And I apologize for not recognizing the man. That you're becoming. Because you're a darn, darn, darn..." He topples over, turns into a green unspecial effect, and disappears right before Kyle's eyes. And now, little man. I give this watch to you.

Back in the UFO Center proper, Tess meets Max on the stairs and asks, "Did you find her?" Max answers by asking where Michael is, and the two of them part as King Max runs into the back to keep everyone in line. Maria, meanwhile, stands alone in the middle of an exhibit displaying an alien autopsy being conducted behind a set of a 1950s suburban house with a front lawn, a white picket fence, and general domestic bliss. In the middle of this exhibit, a wax-figure woman stands at a window holding a cherry pie. Maria regards it as she walks by, then turns a moment after and looks back toward that window. The cherry pie remains, but the woman is gone. And though it serves as no legitimate plot point, it's a pretty good effect and a clever directorial decision. Whatever. I thought it was cool. Maria begins to back away, but the woman (it's the one who kissed the driver on the way off the bus before the opening credits) runs out from behind the exhibit and takes Maria down with a wave of her hand. Tess runs to the rescue, kicking the woman in the back and watching her Buffy into a cloud of staked-vampire dust. What a perfect show to rip off, what with no crossover audience between the two or anything. Right down to the demons jumping out of shadowy corners. Feh. I'm sure no one will notice.

Everyone seems to instinctively know to reassemble in that room at that moment, except for Courtney (dying, granolith) and Porno (vanished, Walken), and Tess tells them all, "They found the way in. We gotta go." Max demands that Kyle go fetch Porno, and Kyle responds, of course, that he can't, seeing as "he disappeared right in front of" him. Liz accurately notes that the Skins' "time dimension is catching up with" the humans. Just in time, Kyle notices a rack of postcards in the middle of the room, one of which contains a picture of the billboard not sporting the Greenis we have come to accept as a fact of alien-phallus-life. He notes that that must be where the energy field is coming from (oooookaaaaay?), and announces that he's heading out there. Max tells him that they need to stick together, and Kyle gets the kick-ass line of the episode, of course, snarking in King Max's general direction, "Hey, I've been really nice about following your orders, Señor Presidente, but if I can do something to help bring some people back or ensure Liz, Maria, and I live to see another day, I'm gonna do it." Señor Presidente. Nice. Still, though, the postcard-as-discovery-agent is a little farfetched, don't you think? Max beckons Kyle back and tells him the best way to go without getting "boxed in." Kyle writes, "Having a grating time, wish this weren't so contrived" on the postcard and mails it to the producers. Had to do something legitimate with it, after all. Michael and Maria share a non-emotional hug. Left with just the three of them, Max begins to outline his plan for himself, Tess, and Michael before looking toward an empty corner of the room and asking, "Where's Courtney?" Michel purses his lips and looks away, which means he is either guilty or concerned. Or confused, unhappy, satisfied, satiated, bewildered, astonished, gleeful, weepy, morose, rueful, dispirited, blissful, gladdened, joyful, overwhelmed, depressed, jocund, blithe, rueful, happy, despondent, or dead.

Isabel's hands are securely fastened by handcuffs to the ceiling of the Short Bus, as Gage sits beside her and stares at her adoringly. Isabel tells him that she came "to make a deal," and Gage responds, "We have you, you beautiful moron." Wow. That is a pretty accurate description of what she's been reduced to, isn't it? She responds that he doesn't understand, and Gage sends Femullet out of the bus so the conversation can continue in private. Isabel transparently tells him that she remembered something from her past the last time they got together in Copper Summit. He believes her and dissolves the handcuffs. Seriously, no wonder his entire idiot race is on the brink of extinction. She starts to lean in to kiss him (oh, God), but throws him down at the last second, and Gage relies on Femullet to run in and make the save, waving a hand and knocking Vilandra out. She tells Gage that she was only trying to save him, but he continues to believe that Isabel "was no threat." Femullet asks what he wants to do , and he undramatically intones, "Kill every last one of 'em." You guys, was this episode two hours long? No? Five? Yeah, I thought so.

Kyle drives down Stock Footage Highway as Maria rants in full-on first-season wacky mode about how her life is going to change when they all finally get out of this. Liz bemoans the fact that she "walked out on [Max] without explaining" what went on with Kyle. This detached ranting indicates that it might finally be time for Liz's disappearing act. Well, we'll just keep it real loose on our definition of "act." Liz looks around with a forlorn look of "Disappearing? That I can do. Act? What am I, Houdini?" and a noise from the back seat prompts Maria to turn around and find it empty. I guess there was only the long green for one actual on-camera disappearance. Anyway, Liz is gone. Whee! Kyle and Maria pull up in front of the Greenis billboard as Maria freaks about Liz's disappearance. Kyle and Maria remember that Liz said something about needing to mess with the electrical current of the Greenis, and Kyle stares back at an imploring Maria and volleys, "Why are you looking at me? We were both in the same remedial science class for three years." They neatly decide that they have to "blow its fuse" (heh), and Maria retreats to the car to snag some jumper cables as Kyle notes an approaching Skin with angry, angry intents. Kyle rears back and screams, "Buddha, forgive me, but I'm gonna kick your ass!" A brief fight ensues, in which Kyle product-places The Club right off the steering wheel and smashes it into the Husk Button. Which, infomercials be damned, is pretty much the only thing The Club is good for in the first place. Killing Skins. Then Kyle disappears. Darn.

Courtney is lying outside of a broken-down motel, I think (where the hell are we?), her face a blue and purple veiny mess and her teeth turning blacker by the moment. Gage saunters up and repeats in the exact same faux-pompous cadence with which he says absolutely everything, "When my soldiers told me what they found, I had to see it for myself." He asks where her new friends are, and when she refuses to provide the necessary information, he puts his hand on her head and sees a flash of Max ordering everyone else to leave to the UFO Center and head toward the school. But she knows something else, he determines. What? What could it be? Flash to Michael, telling Courtney in an extreme close-up on Big Honker Cam, "If anything happens to me, Max, or Tess, I want you to be able to save yourself. Now, if I tell you where the granolith is, do you swear never to tell anyone?" She swears. Gage smiles. But just as he goes back to playing head games (har har har) to find its location, Courtney, er, presses her own button (which is supposed to be much healthier for women than not doing it every once in a while) and Buffies herself right out of existence. Gage is impressed: "Now that's a soldier."

Back in Centerville (have you rented that Twilight Zone yet? No? Sigh), Maria and Liz skulk around the empty streets of Roswell, assembling more evidence for their hypothesis that everyone has disappeared (This coffee is still warm! This sink is still on!), besides checking out the largest indicator that everyone has disappeared, that being: EVERYONE HAS DISAPPEARED. A sudden crash from behind them spooks them briefly back into that world-in-black-light special effect we haven't seen in some time, and they decide to make a dash back to the safety of the Jetta. On their run (Lizbot's rusty joints not even allowing it to pull its arms to its body, and the damned protocol dummy practically explodes from the friction sparks), Liz bends down to the ground and picks up a piece of renegade Skin shedding. It Buffy-special-effects right in her hand. "This is not good." No, Lizbot. No, it certainly is not.

Crashdown. The original Alien Three and Courtney stand alone in the deserted place, Isabel again the glazed-over damsel in regress when she sighs, "Everyone's gone." Michael, through pursed lips, notes that it's only "every human," continuing on, "Whoever's doing this is trying to single us out." Well, they didn't do a very good job, because just at this moment Maria and Liz run through the front door. Courtney: "Well, there goes that theory." Har. I'm really starting to warm up to this Courtney character, right here. I'm sure we're sarcastic spoiler in for a long and fulfilling relationship slated to begin at this moment and last indefinitely end sarcastic spoiler, brimming with joke-ish irony. Maria runs up to Michael and hugs him big for reasons I'm at a continuous loss to discern, and Liz dons her ascot and British accent and does her best Basil Exposition in filling in some gaps (though plenty more remain, I dare say): "We just got back from Dexter." Max responds that all the humans seem to be disappearing, and Liz just steals the scene (of its potential drama, while the director runs frantically around the set screaming, "Someone! She's stealing the scene! Somebody's got to get it back!") as she opens her mouth and gets all teary-eyed weepy: "Wait, what's going on here? Everyone's gone? They're gone? Like, dead?" Maria pulls out a cell phone and dials a number to no avail, then looks toward the Crashdown counter and picks up a plastic jewel case. "Alex's band just burned a new CD, and he couldn't wait to show me." Burned one? Burn 'em all! Ha ha. Damn, I'm clever. Maria gazes at the CD some more. Jesus. Enough. The Whits. Remember that lost shred of forgotten plot? Yeah, I barely do, either.

Isabel spins the script's wheels with the ferocity of a speeding short bus of scenes past: "First thing we need to do is figure out who did this." Maria and Liz toss in their factoid about the skin shedding they just found, and Isabel again pours on the sappy pathos, deeming the entire thing "our fault." Through the kitchen door, Tess runs in bedecked in some kind of tight blue workout gear as if training for a national berth in the 2002 Wonder Bra Olympiad, throws down her bag, and launches in angrily, "No. It's hers." Courtney's. "You led The Skins straight to Roswell." King Max tells Tess to stop "pointing fingers," adding that The Skins have arrived to "settle the score" for the whole destroying-the-future-of-their-race insubordination thing. Oops. Isabel looks out the entirely glass front door and notes that Gage and Femullet are barely a few steps away, and though Isabel can see them just fine, the cheese-o sunglasses they all wear obviously prevent them from seeing her. Isabel determines that they should all hide "in the bathroom" (doesn't that place have a kitchen, a roof, a flight of stairs, an entire ADJOINING HOUSE, and a back door? Well, whatever, the bathroom ought to do). The bathroom door slams shut as the glass front door slams open. Tess uses the full extent of her one power to make them appear invisible. So now we can't see anyone. This should be my freakin' dream come true. So how come I feel so empty inside?

Gage tells Femullet to "check in the back," then sits down on Alex's barstool and takes a bite of pancake and a slug of milkshake. I'm sorry. I just can't take this squirt seriously with those sunglasses on. Or, y'know, at all, but with the added specs, it's like he's trying to be the cool kid in my seventh-grade class. Hey, Gage? Maybe some forest green Z Cavaricci's would wear well with that alien world domination and fake skin husk. Loser. Finishing his George McFly counter hijinks with the milk, Gage takes off the sunglasses and looks toward the wall behind which Max, Michael, Isabel, Tess, Courtney, Maria, and the Lizbot hide. He throws the milkshake glass to the ground because he's a bad kid and takes off the sunglasses. In the bathroom, Maria keeps her eyes closed tight and actually says, "Please don't let me die like Elvis." Maybe I lack some of the history concerning the final days of The King, but I had always subscribed to the fried-banana-and-peanut-butter theory rather than the husk-wearing-aliens-in-designer-knock-off-eyewear theory. Live and learn. ["Big E died on the crapper, for the record. He didn't have hair extensions, though." -- Sars] But Maria holds a vial under her nose, which is actually a good and singular continuity effort between her character now and the flaky, hippie-dippy one they had originally imagined for her at the beginning of last season. That was a compliment, folks. Try not to panic. Anyway, Gage approaches a mirror in the dining room, and begins tapping on the wall that the room he's in shares with the bathroom. Tap tap tap. The six bathroom denizens freeze in fear. I so feel their pain. That Chess King ensemble is a real horror show.

Still in the john? Jeez, it's been a whole commercial break. And also, this episode is, like, half over. Gage continues to stare into the mirror, musing on what pubescent facial areas will be in need of excess Stridex attention back in Copper Summit. Femullet finds her way back into the kitchen and slaps Gage's hand away from his face, telling him, "Don't pick." Which is funny because she's just like a real mom, and also because we get it. Gage points to the mirror and notes that Femullet is "shedding." Shedding what? Her Pat-Benatar-forty-years-into-the-future persona? No, silly, her skin! But she pulls off a pretty good line, noting, "It's the heat. Why couldn't those brats be from Seattle?" Gage insists that they get back "to the moisture chamber," continuing that their step is to "search the town, street by street, building by building, inch by inch. I'm not stopping 'til we find them." Shut up, Malcolm in the Shittle. Femullet scratches her face unceasingly. Real charmer, this one is.

And back in the bathroom, Tess opens her eyes and the seven of them reappear to the world, even though I guess they've never really disappeared to us at all. They exit the bathroom not one full second after their potential captors with a death wish exit through the all-glass front door. Tess sits down at the bar, and through gasping breaths tells them, "I've never come up against power like that before. It feels like someone took a sledgehammer to my head." Yay! Oh, just "feels" that way. Damn, I have really got to start paying more attention. Liz, buried way in the back of the blocking anyway, leaves the room through the kitchen door. You're, um, welcome.

No, no, and nooooooooooooo! Okay? Max follows shortly after and enters Liz's room to find her listening to the best song in history, "Alison" by Elvis Costello. And this is Elvis back before "Veronica" and Bacharach and the frou-frou string quartet, during the Attractions days when everything was right with the world which I remember with all great clarity, seeing I was one entire year old when this song came out. Whatever. This is classic listening. It's music that intelligent people of any age can appreciate, and I can't even be discounted as a doddering old now-isn't-"Tie A Yellow Ribbon"-just-the-height-of-musical-evolution fool because 1) I'm not really that much older than these people, and also because 2) well, I listen to quite a bit of Britney. I don't think I'm that much better than everyone else. All I'm saying is that it would be nice if music that predated a release date of, say, the past two weeks could play in the background and actually pass without a dating, ageist comment? No, it couldn't. Liz folds laundry as Max walks in, and she sighs all puppy-dog and tells him, "My mom always listened to Elvis Costello on laundry day." Which, for a woman who lived much of her brief MBTV life under the oppressed housewife title of The Mom Who Does Laundry (at least back in the real hell-cyon days of "Leaving Normal"), is really quite a bit of Elvis Costello. Liz continues on, "I am so scared." Max tells her that what happened to the humans is all the aliens' fault. Liz counters, "We haven't lost them yet. We have to stay strong." They make puppy-dog eyes at each other for a change, but Max glances at Liz's bed and is hit with some quick images of Liz and Kyle in there together from way back in Episode 5 of this season. And so the scene isn't even smart enough to stop on a close-up of Liz for Elvis' line, "Sometimes I wish that I could stop you from talkin' when I hear the silly things that you say." Instead, it's music from Planet Arium during the Liz/Kyle shots, and then a scream from Isabel for Max to get back downstairs. Sigh. This sad bastardization of actual quality in media is brought to you by people actively trying to destroy my childhood and all I hold dear. All I'm saying is that it was used as a freakin' punch line. Alison, I know this world is killing you. Oh, Alison. My aim is spew.

Back in the kitchen, Max finds Courtney collapsed on the ground, turning numerous shades of blue and purple splotchy as a huge vein sticks out of her forehead. Furrowed brows all around, and we cut from the dining room to Tess filling a bath in Liz's house. Maria suggests, "Maybe we should take her clothes off?" Isabel puts up a hand and slams Max and Michael out of the room as the girls help Courtney out of her clothes and into the running bath. Liz remembers that Courtney said something about "the husk starving," then tacks on an unintelligible snarky comment that my closed-captioning interprets as, "Judge not lest ye be judged, bitch." Courtney, however, registers the comment, and reacts through her stupor, "I heard that, you bitch." Right on, woman. They get her into the bath, Isabel suggesting, "What if we tempt it with food from the outside, kind of like an all-you-can-eat buffet." Liz deems it "worth a try," and Maria pulls out a vial of pills from somewhere in her Crashdown uniform, throwing them all into the tub and announcing the names of scores from many health-food-store rip-off walks of life such as Gingko and Echinacea and St. John's Wort. The other women take a moment to regard this pharmacy warily. She retorts, "What, I was dating Michael Guerin." She was?

Liz's roof. Max looks through a telescope and comments, "Main Street looks clear. I just wish I knew where they were hiding." Michael changes the subject to Courtney, wondering if Max thinks that she's okay. Max comments that Michael and Courtney have gotten close, and Michael snarks that Max never cared about his social life before. Max observes, "Well, you were never sleeping with the enemy before." Ugh. Solve crimes, scope out aliens, do what you need to do in these hollow, classic-rock-free lives of yours, if you must. But please, for the love of your hearty and intrepid recapper, do you think you can at least try to do so without referencing the collective cinematic oeuvre of, well, everyone in it? Really, it doesn't do much for your pop-cultural cachet, not to mention your acting ability. Thanks. And you're welcome. Michael lashes out, telling Max that he's not sleeping with the single white female, and that she only came over to The House Government Subsidy Built to show him "how the husk fit. That's it." Michael looks into the telescope at the empty, empty street for an agonizingly long time. It simply won't stop raining in New York today. I wish I were dead.

Back in the girls' room, Courtney sits in the bath looking wholly healed. Tess stands above the tub, commenting, "Pretty quick recovery, don't you think? This I've-fallen-and-can't-get-up routine seems a little too convenient." God, more pop-cultural cross-referencing from, like, every decade but this one? Kathie Lee? Elvis Costello? Sleeping with the Enemy? What's , "Fall into the Gap"? "Fuck me gently with a chainsaw"? "Whatever it is I think I see becomes a Tootsie Roll to me"? Tess thinks "it's time for a Q &;amp A. What exactly did The Skins do?" Courtney doesn't know. "I don't know." Why doesn't Tess just ask her "where's the beef?" Tess pulls the plug out of the drain, and the water begins to get sucked down. Isabel asks what happened to their families, and Courtney lapses into an open-ended filibuster about how "time exists in multiple subset dimensions," until Isabel cuts her off and demands that she "speak English." Blah timecakes, and the humans disappeared into some sort of time dimension like in twelve Steven King stories that jump to mind. I recommend The Langoliers. It's short. But Courtney doesn't know where the humans are. Tess believes her, I guess, and mercifully puts the stopper back in the tub. Isabel poses the question, "Why haven't Liz and Maria disappeared?" Maria notes that they were out of town, which Courtney responds, "Bought them some time." You guys, it's the eighties! Why don't you just clap twice and bring everybody back into tangible existence?

Buy them some time? Since they weren't in town when the aliens' Greenis shot its cloud of disappearing spunk all over town, wouldn't they be immune from disappearing? Maria and Liz muse on this very plot hole as they walk down the steps of Liz's house and back into the Crashdown dining room. Standing alone in the room is a male Skin in his thirties, I'm guessing, who stares the girls down through his cheesy-ass sunglasses and advances on them in a very, very threatening kind of way. Just as it seems the ladies may be overpowered, Porno enters and shoots the Skin in the back. Skin wheels around and advances on Porno, but just then Kyle enters, and Skin Gestapo is too overmatched by sheer numbers to continue the battle. He runs out. Porno is down for the count but alive. Another song I really like is "High Fidelity."

School. Max, Michael, and Tess come upon an unconscious Isabel, and the four of them look up just as The Skins walk from each hallway and surround them in front of a set of lockers. They look. They scratch. If the drama got any higher, this episode would be taking place on the surface of the sun.

Quick cut to Maria grabbing jumper cables out of the Jetta's trunk and climbing onto the billboard. Back in school, The Skins tie up the Alien Four with common house twine, albeit of the seemingly non-molecularly-manipulatable variety. Gage speeches Max about how he puts his faith in the wrong people, then asks Isabel if "this scene feels familiar," calling her Vilandra and inducing a glance from Max. Then to Michael, to whom Gage says, "The boy who spilt the secret of the granolith to one of our exiled members. Rule Number One of war: keep your big mouth shut. Courtney knew that. That's why she killed herself before I could get its exact location." And then, annoyingly, "Love the hair. Hope you win." Shut up, uncontextualized shout-out. Maria screams in frustration on the billboard. Gage asks Max where the granolith is, then puts a hand on his head and it's time for flashes, flashes, flashes. Maria puts the jumper cables onto the Greenis just as she disappears, and the thing explodes. The green spunk cloud lifts over Roswell, but we cut back to the school for the Other Pointless Climax of Tess screaming like a banshee and conjuring the fires of hell (if by "hell," you mean "Christmas morning five-hour broadcast of The Yule Log"), which rages behind her for a moment and then stops. More flaky bits. The Skins are gone and the people are back! Hu. Freakin'. Zah.

Back at the Crashdown, Alex complains that his pancakes are freezing (because he was, y'know, gone), and Porno comes in to be lecherous and weird in celebrating his return. Slo-mo hell sets in as Isabel greets her mom in the kitchen of Chez Evans, and Liz, Maria, and Kyle are reunited at The Billboard Formerly Known as Greenis.

Tess and Max walk outside in a park filled with people, Tess worrying that the power she conjured is something she never wants to experience again. From across the green expanse, they spot the back of a teenage boy on a razor-scooter-thing, and look at each other because he has Gage hair. You guys, we know that this show is an ongoing series and that it's not over. Thanks for the heads-up, though.