Right back at you, Demian.
Fade up on a shot of Man-NOT-an Island under the cover of darkness as The Thrashing Guitar of the Dispossessed Urban Alien rages on the soundtrack. Out of the Canal Street N-stop walk four silhouetted figures, the last of whom happens past a fruit stand connected to a Korean market, holds out a hand, and sends the contents of said stand tumbling out into the middle of a strangely deserted Lafayette Street. If that's its real name. As the wacky, comic minority foils (listed conveniently on the production slate for this episode as "Mr. Status" and "Mrs. Quo") dash madly to recover their overturned citrus-y goodness, we are afforded our first close-up of these renegades. It's Max (kinda), Michael (sorta), Isabel (ish), and Tess (will these madcap antics never cease?), each bedecked in sleeveless cut-off which-way-to-the-RATT-release-party leather, sporting hair which, to varying degrees, suggests that the dominant fashion aesthetic of their distant homeland is overturned-Aquanet-truck-meets-ill-timed-hurricane-with-a-dash-of-diehard-Indigo-Girls-fan. Am I implying that this pack of attempted urbanized aliens got lost on their journey from Hair and Make-up to "hip city kid" and took an inadvertent left at "lesbian chic, minus the chic"? No, I'm not implying that at all. I'm stating it as an absolute metaphysical certitude. Except for Bizarro Tess, who just looks like The Arquette Sister That Even 1-800-CALL-ATT Couldn't Find. And she's the luckier for it, if you want to know the truth.
After raiding the cash register and doing a fair bit of discount produce shopping in the process (at least this Michael seems to have been introduced to the concept of "the lo-cal menu," as opposed to the New Mexico version, who prefers his grapefruit with a side of grease-dripping slab of beef and a tall, refreshing glass of gravy), the Man-NOT-an Four happen around one of the many darkened street corners lovely downtown Urbania ('cause this ain't no New York I've ever seen) has to offer and into the path of two African-American youths (listed conveniently on the production slate for this episode as…oh, never mind). Mr. Status gives Isabel "Upper Breast Side" Evans a good lingering once-over, telling her "you look good" in that way that totally means, "Wow, I didn't even know Samantha Fox had a new album out, much less her own clothing label." Well, that's what I got out of it, anyway. Michael "Statue of Gliberty" Guerin tells Mr. Status to "give [him] the rock," by which he means a basketball, a term he must have ripped right out of his English/Nothing Anyone Has Ever Said in This World or Any Others You May Know Of translation dictionary, which is product-placed with reckless abandon throughout the course of this episode. Michael pities the fool who would dare throw him "a rock" and actually expect it back, and he swaggers away from poor Status and Quo, in the process affording them with the full might of the back of his physics-and-good-taste-defying mohawk/mullet hair-don't. Nice fake-out, Mr. T for the new millennium. Sweet Jesus McGillicuddy, he looks like an idiot. Perhaps "Mr. Tee Hee" is more like it.
Status and Quo call futilely after Mr. Tee Hee to get back their "rock." They finally give up, add their screen time with the lily-white WB (who have nearly bankrupted the budget for this show surreptitiously hiring extra personnel to make sure they don't steal anything from the set while capturing this unflinching portrait of gritty life in Urbania) to their résumés, and are escorted off the set forever. Walking past the shattered storefronts and flaming barrels that so typify the Non York City experience, Mr. Tee Hee does his best Pesci-in-Lethal-Weapon-minus-a-chromosome impersonation in telling the other three, "They contacted us again last night. Same invite. We gotta tell 'em sometin'." Max "The Harlem EarlobeTrotters" Evans responds, "Tell 'em no," and Isabel asks if that means they definitely won't be attending "the summit." Mr. Tee Hee believes that this plan is "messed up," and Tess "SoHo" Harding adds, "We tell 'em no they won't ask again." Mr. Tee Hee confronts Mad Max Beyond Blunderdome head-on and spars, "What is up witchoo, man? I'm tired uh yoo. I'll go by myself." Mad Max's accent is a slow, easy drawl (he must be from the south…part of the island), his speech perhaps inhibited by the caterpillar-esque goatee hanging from his lower lip and fairly begging for a quality-of-life citation signed and administered by Giuliani himself for crimes perpetrated against unhorrific fashion. Don't laugh at that until you've lived here. I'm just sayin', it's not completely out of the question. As well it shouldn't be. Anyway, Mad Max responds, "They don't want the Number Two. They want the Royal Four." Sorry, but the former is pretty much unavoidable, seeing as how awash this episode already is in number two, if you know what I mean. Mr. Tee Hee purses his lips (drink!) and insists that they "go and see what they gotta say, why don't we go and get the answers," refuting Mad Max's claims that this might be a "set-up." Mad Max pauses and stares back at Mr. Tee Hee, quietly intoning, "I'm the man. Don't forget." Isabel steps in and notes that "it's been a mad long day" (where is that translation dictionary? I can't understand a word!), adding that they all need to "just chill." Cue slo-mo walking. Mad Max looks self-adoringly ahead, while Isa-Hell and Mr. Tee Hee shoot some conspiracy-laden glances behind him. Tess Arquette looks stumped. How come she didn't get to be in Little Nicky?
Opening credits: Poor Dido. She "won't sleep." Well, boil up some chamomile tea, fix yourself a bubble bath, and check the forums for those first-season tapes. We'll have you on the brink of REM bliss in no time.
Microsoft Word font Crap Sans Irony MT informs us that it is now "one week later," as a shot of a photo rendering of the Milky Way cuts to a teacher mid-lecture at Roswell High. Hey, school! Been a while. I wonder if it's a science class. Check. I wonder if the teacher will be lecturing on a topic that is somehow germane and immediately applicable to the lives of the aliens and in-the-know humans, who can react to said epiphany by shooting doe-eyed gazes at each other across crowded classrooms. Let's go see! Liz and Max sit on opposite ends of the room, as a teacher congressionally filibusters, "A black hole. That's what's left after a star dies. And that's exactly what happened last week, my friends. The spectacular, stellar implosion of a Red Giant. Unheard of in the history of…" Zzzzzzzzzz. Oh, this is so last season's plot device. I guess the alien dupes from over in the ambiguous metropolitan terrain of Urbania aren't the only ones traveling back in time for the purposes of convenient plot exposition. Lose this convention now, "writers," or before you know it you will have regressed back to Liz telling us in stilted VO from her rooftop that events are "happenink" that are "changink" her on the inside. Wouldn't want that, now would we? No. Wouldn't. Move on.
Blah supernova exploded without a trace, and we cut to outside the classroom, where Liz approaches Max and makes with the small talk: "Hey, kind of weird about that star, huh? Kind of sad. It just doesn't seem that somethink [drink!] burning so bright could just…burn out." Max retorts, "But it did," before skulking away accusingly. Right. Star-crossed lovers. Check. Light emitted from a Red Giant Subtext in the We Get It Galaxy, which is not far, it turns out, from where this droning conversation is taking place. Because we get it, is why.
Back in Urbania, Mad Max seems to have disappeared, and the remaining aliens walk down another mysteriously empty street marked "Lexington Avenue." Dozens of readily available parking spots sit open, their meters bereft of change. Hmmmm. It must have been "Alternate Side of the Street Continuity Day." They approach a stopped convertible, and Mr. Tee Hee throws the door open and removes the driver from behind the wheel and throws him onto the pavement as he yells elucidating comments including, "Hey! That's my car!" and "Hey, you're stealing my car!" and even "That is my car, you see, being stolen for the purposes of linear plot development by you, oh ye alien doppelgangers!" Isa-Hell runs a hand over the license plate and changes it from a New York plate to a New Mexico plate. And I don't mean to be nitpicky here (oh, what the hell…of course I do), but New York cars are also required to have a front plate, which I'm noticing is absent from the head-on shot of the automobile. Also, if they have the power to unlock doors with their palms, why not just steal an empty car? Oh, that's right. There are no other cars.
Mr. Tee Hee steps into the driver's seat, with Isa-Hell riding shotgun and Tess Arquette in the back. As The Thrashing Guitar of the Dispossessed Urban Alien kicks itself up a notch, we cut to the car on a "bridge" out of "town," Michael cementing the any-decade-but-the-one-we're-actually-in nature of these people with the celebratory, "Trans Am, baby. Yeah!" Uh, no. Please see earlier Samantha Fox reference for more on this. Preferring the George Washington Bridge (which, sorry, geographically challenged alien hipsters, does not, in fact, go to Washington) over the Holland Tunnel (same snark, insert "Holland"), Tess Arquette drawls from the back, "We were family, the four of us. He was your brother, Lonnie." Who? Oh, Isa-Hell. And since the end of this episode and a host of spoilers indicate that these people won't be going anywhere for at least two weeks, I really should make a concerted effort to commit those names to…ah, screw it. Isa-Hell notes that "tings change" (accent authenticity duly noted), looking into the rearview mirror to threaten Tess Arquette, "That's right. Zan's my brother, and that's [indicates Mr. Tee Hee] my lover [Gah! Social! Just because I really, really need one right about now], but who are you? Why are you still living and breathing and riding in this car? Oh, that's right. You're here 'cause I love you. Ain't that sweet?" The music fades, and a close-up on three hideous wigs and eight cumulative faker-than-Velveeta facial piercings has the Claire's Boutique advertising department high-fiving through the highly dramatic silence.
Real Max enters Simon from Go's office inside the UFO Center, and Simon excitedly shows him a computer monitor featuring a map of the U.S. and notes, "Activity. On the East Coast. Somewhere near here." Simon indicates a blinking red dot on the map over New York City. It looks like a map out of the 1.0 version of "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego," a sad admission that the very authenticity of that Urbania set has rendered the rest of the sets as cobbled-together accidents culled from spare parts recovered from an abandoned Atari 2600 factory. Max notes, "New York City?" Simon continues on that "these blips, they appeared last week. Someone or something is trying to make contact." He excitedly sits back down at the Commodore 64 keyboard console (one wonders if he had to type a ",8,1" at the end of his load command for this complicated alien tracking software) and adds that he's going to "run a few programs." And I'm no conspiracy expert myself, but I've read on this "Internet" that some really elite units of the FBI could never have uncovered Area 51 in the first place without the cutting edge single-pixel "Spy Hunter" truck to point then in the right direction. Suddenly, an alarm on Simon's watch goes off, and he looks at it and smiles broadly, "Time for dinner." Max comments that he has already "chewed too much scenery while playing the role of my other twenty time-traveling characters to be hungry for anything now" (or something to that effect), but Simon sends him out of the room anyway. Dude, I love "Pitfall" too, but once you've crossed over that 20,000-point threshold and mailed away for that de rigueur patch for your soccer jacket, it just seems like the final frontier has been reached. Re. Lax. Simon.
Crashdown. I guess government subsidy is called as such and not "government charity" for a reason, as Michael is inexplicably back at work, preparing a carryout meal. Maria stands impatiently at the window to the kitchen, repeatedly telling him, "Don't forget the pepper jack." She adds on that Max "wants to have a meeting with everybody Saturday night." Michael doesn't even look up as he responds that he has plans on Saturday he just can't change, and Maria deems his canceling on Max "so sweet." Michael wants to know what's so darn sweet about "the dirt bike finals." Spineburgers-hold-the-spine, as Maria continues the Gal Friday verbal volley against her pride's clearly inaudible insistences to the contrary, "Hello? I'm singing on Saturday at the new performance space to the museum." Good news: drink! Bad news: singing! Michael purses [drink!] his [drink!] lips [oh, shit, I'm in a coma!], and snarls, "What's the big deal? I've seen you sing before." So have we, Michael. So have we. And let me just say, here's hoping for a nice long preempting meeting filled with talk of red stars and orange lights and green orbs and purple horseshoes. Please. No more Phil Collins. No more "Readings from the Book of Genesis," for those of you who remember the first time this unfortunate event came to light. Maria angrily grabs her order and takes off, all "it's just another day for you and me in paradise!" Oh. Think twice.
Back in Simon's office, the most attractive male member of the cast (and no, it's not just a hasty opinion formed from the drinking, though there's been a fair amount of it thus far) primps and tugs at his GOOD HAIR (ouch! My hard drive just exploded, for lack of ever having seen those words in that order in these here recaps), until the door opens and Maria walks in. "Galaxy Sub, hold the mayo." Simon is overjoyed to see her. Wow. Here's something I have to say I didn't exactly see coming. He hands her some cash, and she turns around before reaching the door to his office, and asks with an already frustrated laugh, "Is there pepper jack in that sandwich?" Several ill-directed moments of Simon rustling with the paper wrapping later, he stares into said sandwich and notes the lack of pepper jack. Maria rages that he ordered pepper jack and he has every right to expect pepper jack (seriously, the person who says "pepper jack" is accompanying this tape for an all-expenses-paid trip out of my fourth-floor window), but Simon tells her that it's a "very small thing." Maria rants on that "someone who can't get the cheese right does not deserve to live." Whoa, Maria. Cut the man some slack. Besides the fact that he only goes to work when it's immediately convenient for the plot non-development at hand, it's clear from Michael's rapidly deteriorating physique that he operates more or less by the "one for you, two for me" approach to food preparation. He has a problem, people. Simon rather endearingly muses, "Wow, you take your job very seriously." Maria tells Simon that his meal is on the house, and he offers her a tip, at least, and puts a folded bill in her hand. He sits down at his desk and tries to make with the small talk, asking, "So, what do you think of our new president?" Oh, burn, "writers!" What president? Nice try anticipating the cultural curve, there. But really, it doesn't matter that the "writers" tried to peer into the future and failed extravagantly, seeing as Simon delivers this line to no audience, save for the literally tens of us who continue to tune in. Maria took off, man. He could just as well have asked, "Aren't you glad there's finally peace in the Middle East?" or "Hasn't travel become so much more convenient since they invented the flying car?" or even "Hey, hotty, I'm impotent!" because he turns to find Maria gone. He's alone. Alone and hanging. Hanging like the proverbial chad.
Wait a sec. Why did the "one day later" tag appear right after the opening credits, before The Poorly Wigged Three even stole the car and took their leave from Urbania? I thought that elapse was built in just to indicate the amount of time it would have taken them to make the journey from Urbania to Roswell. This simply makes as much sense as, well, everything else that's happened so far in this episode. It's a bizarre form of continuity, but continuity nonetheless. Mr. Tee Hee stares into the rearview mirror and asks accusingly of Tess Arquette, "What's your problem? You ain't said nothing in two days." Oooh, double negatives! How continually (see?) "street" of them! Tess Arquette snarks, "You said you were going to make him change his mind about going to the summit!" Mr. Tee Hee (real name -- snerk -- "Rath") responds that they couldn't, so they "went with the alternative." Tess Arquette wants to know how they know that this "other Zan" will be more amenable to traveling back with them, and Isa-Hell pulls out a copy of Max's high-school yearbook (wow, that Urbania Library of Congress is one comprehensive place), and notes, "We don't. But we'll be smarter about it this time, we'll find another way in." Mr. Tee Hee tacks on, "They don't want to meet with just the three of us, they want the King. So all we gotta do is get him to the summit, and we'll marinate on the rest later." They'd better talk slower. They've still got a whole week of driving left. Or so the screen titles would have us believe.
The USA Up All Night franchise wishes it still had the clout that it did when people still dressed like the Urbania Three, for they certainly would have paid a chunk for the rights to this shot of Real Isabel jogging in front of a barbed wire fence for the opening sequence of some Alien Women…In Prison flick they toyed with making but only got around to making, like, two billion other times. Or so my friends in the know have told me. Anyway, jog, jog, jog. After a moment, the Alienmobile pulls up to her, and Max tells her that they "have to talk." She begs off, but as she starts to run away, he taunts from behind, "Fine. See you later. Vilandra." She turns around and returns to the Alienmobile. Max tells her that there has always been a bond between them and wants to know more about who she is and what she knows, but she apologizes and runs off anyway. Max pulls off in a huff. Dude, I like the campiness of the Urbania Three much better. Without the strains of the Not Inch Nails raging constantly, I don't even know if I'm supposed to be entertained by this or not. Oh, wait. It's "not."
So after a week of deciding which inhabited sports car to steal in Urbania and the consequent five minutes it took for them to drive across the entire country, The Trans Am of Misbegotten Motives roars past a sign reading "Roswell City Limit." Tess Arquette asks why the Roswell aliens weren't invited to the summit, and Isa-Hell plot-develops, "Because we're the only ones who know there's another set of us out there." A siren flares from behind them. Isa-Hell demands that Mr. Tee Hee keep his "cool" (which was already unceremoniously sacrificed the moment The A-Team hightailed it into syndication, I'm afraid), and the cruiser pulls up behind them. Like we don't know who's going to get out of that police car. Hmmm. I wonder who that's going to be. Oh, wait. Actually, I don't. Porno steps out, because he is the only law enforcement presence in the entirety of the desert Southwest. Even the Jeff Goldblum iMac commercial that suddenly fills my screen is somehow less galling than this. I down another shot in celebration of this latest foray into commercial break-i-tude. Mmmmm…shots. My twelve-step program: there is no step three.
Hey, this Thursday's Charmed? Bob Saget called. He wants his hilarious monkeys-in-clown-suits-shooting-off-high-diving-boards-at-ninety-miles-an-hour imagery back. That's AFHV's exclusive intellectual property, people. And I wouldn't recommend you piss off The Sagster.
Porno (who, I feel it must be mentioned, was not named as such because of his lecherous ways toward the youth of Roswell, and thus the nickname will continue to stand) makes his way slowly toward the car, demanding, "License and registration." He leans down in the driver's side window and questions, "Michael?" before breaking into helpless, schoolgirl giggles which, I have to admit, are more than a little contagious. He bellows, "Lord have mercy" (and he won't be the first or the last to say that while watching this episode), adding, "What's with the hair and the outfits?" Isa-Hell responds that they are on their way to "a party with kind of like a New York theme." I guess I heard wrong, seeing as what she actually must have said was, "a seventies prison film theme." Hey, too bad Porno stopped accessorizing with those sunglasses so long ago, or they really would have had the costume of the year. The year 1977. Porno plot-develops merrily, joking, "You look like you're from another planet. For once." Silence in the car. He asks where they tracked down said Trans Am, and is somehow satisfied with the answer, "We borrowed it." Isa-Hell takes a quick peak at Porno's nametag and amusingly enunciates, "Sheriff Valenti." He PSAs for them to slow it down, then too-curiously turns the topic toward the location of Max (and thus proving that the nickname sustains, regardless of its humble origins), and Isa-Hell tells him that they were on their way to pick him up, but that there was a "weird car" parked in front of the house. She suggests that they follow Porno to Chez Evans, and that he can signal that "the coast is clear." Isa-Hell thanks him and calls him "the freakin' man." He assents to this plan, and then giggles girlishly again. He strolls away, and Mr. Tee Hee laughs sarcastically for a spell and then stops abruptly. The three exchange their Stonecutter's secret handshake of punching their three fists together, which I believe is the Wonder Twins power activation signal. They should activate the "no more black nail polish for Michael" signal. Really, it's even worse than the mutton chops. Score some rubbing alcohol and strip it clean, Dieter. You're a joke to your whole planet.
Hey, I think this is Belle and Sebastian playing in the Crashdown. My friend John really likes them, and he gave me a few of their CDs about a year ago and demanded I give them a try. Unfortunately, seeing as I tend to get teary after a few bars of Breathe's "How Can I Fall" and even well up in certain sections of your average Backstreet Boys power ballad, I was forced to deem the CDs "too dour and not conducive enough to karaoke performance," and return them apologetically without burning myself a copy. But after last week's woeful treatment of the historical greatness that is Elvis Costello, it's nice to see a truly solid band pass on the soundtrack without comment, for once. Except for this comment here, which has somehow doubled the length of this week's recap suddenly. Sorry about that. Aaaaaanyway, Max sits alone at a table (dude, hit the McDonald's, or stay at home with a steaming slice of frijole frittata and stop stalking that Lizbot when she's on shift and has to be there) and Liz approaches in uniform to tell him that the kitchen is closing. Desperate silence. Lizbot braves a comment: "I hate this." Yeah, sister, get in line. Oh, there's more? Sorry. "I hate that we can't even be around each other." She continues on that they were friends before they ever kissed, and she wants to go back to that. Max claims that he "can't" and stands up to leave, but Liz continues on, "I don't want you to hate me." Hey, is this one of those shows where the actors are allowed to look directly into the camera and talk? Because if Liz has something of that nature she'd like to say to the rest of us…oh, never mind. If she ever convinced the world to stop hating her, the forums would shut down, the site would run itself out of business, the universe would collapse irrevocably upon itself, and I'd have to go back to work at the cheese factory. And this scene right here was pretty much all the cheese I know how to take.
Porno pulls away, leaving The Trans Am of Misbegotten Motives alone in front of Chez Evans. Suburbia-is-for-suckers-cakes, and Mr. Tee Hee and Isa-Hell leave Tess Arquette to "keep lookout" by the car while they "go inside and see what makes Mr. Max spin." Tess Arquette stares into their backs as they stroll away in that "my accent was even worse than the rest so they chopped all my lines" kind of way, and we cut hard from that to the other two entering Max's room via the window. How they knew he wasn't home and in his room? How they knew which room of the house was his? How a curious local Sheriff, a renegade guidance counselor, a passel of suited FBI dudes, an entire special unit of the United States government, a shape-shifting villain, and a variety of orbs both sinister and glowing too numerous to mention here wouldn't have enticed Max to get a lock for his window -- all utterly beyond me. And no, they didn't gain access through their wily alien powers; that window has as much external resistance as the swinging slatted doors at an Old West saloon. It's a freakin' ten dollar investment and it's called Home Depot. Low prices are just the beginning. Look. It. Up. Anyway, it's good to know that Michael's powers of too-easy breaking and entering aren't limited to just one of his earthly incarnations. As such, Mr. Tee Hee cracks open Max's closet door as Isabel practically poses for an I-Zone Camera with Sticky Film candid in front of the product-placed iMac. They make fun of his clothes. Isa-Hell discovers that he works at a UFO Museum. Michael digs through Max's drawers (ew, not like that) and comes across a picture of Liz, who Isa-Hell proposes must be "his bitch." She flips the photo over and reads, "To Max, I'll always love you. Liz." Isa-Hell snarks, "She ain't got nothin' goin' on." Okay, we get it. You're making fun of the show from within the show. We hear you. We know and have known that Liz "ain't got nothin' going' on," and that Max dresses like a Chess King Catalogue cover model, but there's a fine line between self-referential postmodernism and a blatantly cheap apology for all the crappy things about this show y'all are at a loss to fix. And right now, this show is several congressional voting districts on the wrong side of that line.
End excess entitled preaching here.
Yeah. RIGHT.
A knock on Max's bedroom door sends Michael hiding, totally unconcealed, on the far side of Max's bed, and the most extraneous screen-time-per-plot-relevance character in this show's history, Mr. Evans, walks into the room. Did we even have a nickname for him? He spots Isa-Hell, tossing a soccer ball from hand to hand. She offers her "dad" a hello. He asks what happened to her, telling her she looks like "some rapper on TV, like that Queen Latisha." She corrects him, "Queen Latifah." Hopefully he does mean this "Queen Latisha," or I need to get my picture tube completely overhauled. He notes a tattoo of the four circles and four lines connecting to a central point, much as we saw last season on the scoping fjords of Sandy Land, on her arm, which she promises is just a henna and will wash off. And then she goes in for the non-convincing story, which exists purely as a vehicle to make it look like something significant is going to come of this scene when Isa-Hell appears to blow their cover, "I ain't really Isabel." She goes on to claim that her school is doing "a rock 'n' roll version of Romeo & Juliet," and that she's playing Juliet. Mr. Evans volleys something pointless about theater, and Isa-Hell sits down in a nearby chair, listening to her non-father tell her that he's worried about Max: "Even the therapy's not helping him." Mr. Evans sits down on the bed and suggests "a joint session." She'd really like to work it out. Mr. Tee Hee reads the recap thus far and is true to his nickname with an almost-audible "Tee Hee" from behind the bed. Mr. Evans bumpkins himself out of the room, and there's more tee-heeing about Max being a head case. Mr. Tee Hee regards the photo of the Lizbot and whines, "Looove, Liz." The Goth Talk nail polish remains a significant factor.
Maria accosts a good-sweatered Simon back at his office and asks after a $100 tip he gave her at lunch. Why? He's ready with the charm: "It's Ben Franklin. I can't stand looking at the bloke." Maria does submit to a short giggle, but informs him, "I don't know what you're thinking, mister, but Maria DeLuca is not for sale." And so he asks her to lunch, telling her in a way too clever and continental for me to adequately recap (my fingers are trained only on the dialect of "California dirge," and I'm having some trouble breaking out of that just at the moment) that it doesn't really have to be a date. She seems so pathetically flattered. Simon says -- Awww along with me! Now, won't you? -- "Maybe the time you bring me a sandwich, you could bring one for yourself. And not charge me for it, even though I have too much money, but pay for it yourself, because that would make it officially not a date. And then stay. And eat it with me. And keep me company, while I'm dateless. What do you think?" If you all aren't climbing over me to scream an exultant "Yes, yes, YES SIMON I WILL" at this moment, your hearts are all made of lifeless, black coal. Maria tells him she thinks he's a little strange, and he offers, "Sometimes, yes." The edit out of this scene is absolutely abysmal. They both just kind of stop. But it's not Simon's fault. No, sir, it is not.
School. Liz faces her locker reading The Big Book of Egregious Stage Directional Mishaps and clearly not digesting a thing (why oh why couldn't they have just had her looking IN a locker, rather than blocking her pacing around bumping into things? What. Ever), when Mr. Tee Hee saunters up behind her and attests, "You look tight." Heh. Not. Lizbot turns around and asks, "What is with your hair?" which, I guess, translated means, "Why does it look so much better than usual?" He tells her that "I thought since Maxie wasn't around…" and she tells him that "it's not gonna happen…ever." Until she's about five steps further down the hell, and he wheels her around and plants one. She screams and retreats and dances off, disgusted. Mr. Tee Hee deems the entire experience "epic" and saunters off in the other direction. Comic relief, except for the…well, y'know.
UFO Center after dark. The Alien Four plus Liz and Maria talk about the exploding star, Michael angrily accusing, "You called us all together here for an emergency meeting to talk about a star that croaked?" Maria complains that she "canceled [her] performance" for this (hey, go meeting!), and we cut back to discover the Urbania Three watching the action down below. Isa-Hell says something about Max having "a bigger stick up his ass" than even this Zan character, and is in the middle of kvetching about the amount of humans who seem to know their secret when Alex shows up and discovers the doppelgangers. Laughs. Costumes? Hilarity. He notices the others down below, who follow him down the steps and come face to face with each other. I know I should be a lot more wowed by the effects that allow for this confrontation, but after the Sinatra/Bono duet and the Astaire-bastardizes-history-by-dancing-with-a-vacuum-cleaner, let's just tack a big ol' "Been There" sticker on the CGI and move on with our recapping day, shall we? Isa-Hell tells them not to "bug out." Michael puts together, without the usual burning smell brought about by his rare but strenuous uses of intellect, that there were eight pods of silly string (which goes along nicely with the "six different hairstyles" and the "five glowing orbs" in "The Twelve Days of Alien Christmas") in the cave, but he didn't know that the other four would look just like them. Liz notes that there are only three of them in attendance, but Tess Arquette volunteers that the fourth's "name was Zan," who they lost "in a stupid accident." Mr. Tee Hee tells them he died "in a street accident. For nothin'!" Introduction-cakes for five hours, which is done and done, considering we know who everyone is. Mr. Tee Hee and Liz confirm that they have already met, and Mr. Tee Hee apologizes before turning his attention to Max and asking if they can talk "in private."
Cut to Max and Mr. Tee Hee, talking in private. Mr. Tee Hee tells Max that they've been contacted by "some peeps in da hood" (okay, STOP that), and that "the ruling families of the five planets, they want to have this summit meeting." Godfather imagery. Check. Got it. And with Zan dead, Mr. Tee Hee continues, "You're the only king we got." But why, Max wants to know, did they contact the Urbania version? Mr. Tee Hee responds that "they don't know that there's two sets," and we cut away to Michael asking Isa-Hell just why they made two sets. For a kitschy theme episode such as this one, 'haps? Her reply: "Well, they made one batch, and didn't get it quite right. So they made another." Michael deems her "a defective," and she responds that the Roswell brood are the defectives: "Too human, no offense." But blah war-cakes, so they sent both sets to Earth to double their race's hope of survival.
More silence and staring. Hey, can I drink anyway?
The two Isabels face each other on a staircase, and Isabel asks Isa-Hell if "Lonnie" is short for "Vilandra." Isa-Hell sits down to her (it's like living in the FUTURE!) and retreads the story we've heard from Gage a thousand times already: "She betrayed her family. Brought down the whole house of cards, got everyone killed. Sound familiar?" She continues that it's been hard keeping this secret to herself, "you have no idea." Isa-Hell can't believe that Isabel hasn't told Max, who replies that that she "didn't even want to believe it" herself. "The thought of telling him." Isa-Hell tells her that it will be their little secret, just as Alex approaches with the offer of two Foreshadow Brand Sodas. Isa-Hell shoots back, "No three-ways tonight, Opie. Maybe later." Word, Isa-Hell. Shut up, L'il Hanks. Anyone who sees Cast Away is getting booted from the boards. ["Even me? It's a tax write-off…? Oh, never mind." -- Sars] ["Anyone means anyone. I don't make the rules. Actually, you do. Just forget I said anything." -- Djb] ["Okay, I make the rules, but Big Hanks is not punishable by banishment." -- Sars] ["Dude, have you checked out the beard? I think that man has suffered enough already." -- Djb] ["Not to mention enduring several months of Helen Hunt and Survivor jokes." -- Sars] ["Hi. And the post-Oscar humor brought about by his gut having been given its own school district." -- Djb] ["And how come he keeps shilling for that World War II memorial? He looks like he ATE a World War II memorial." -- Sars] ["I hear that's what did Brando in. Anyway, you're getting booted." -- Djb] ["Not if I boot you first. Neener neener!" -- Sars] ["By the way, thanks for giving me your MBTV password" -- Djb] ["Who is this?" -- Sars] ["Your worst nightmare." -- Djb] ["Okay, who gave James fucking Van Der Beek my password?" -- Sars]
Back in "private," Max tells Mr. Tee Hee that he doesn't know a darned thing about the war or what it's about, and Mr. Tee Hee shames the five boroughs and the surrounding, like, five billion mile radius around them: "We know it's about us. The original Royal Four. Some kind of revolution happened and they were all killed and sent to Earth to be reborn. Ever since then the hood's been a war zone. Now they want peace." He pours on the rhetoric, telling him that this cause was Zan's passion, and without him, "millions of lives hang in the balance." Max kicks it deadpan-style, word: "I'm not Zan." Because the pods, the fates, and The Superman II Guide to Exceedingly Cheesy Sci-fi Names would not have it be that way.
Outside the office, the two groups of aliens eye each other suspiciously across the main Center room. Max tells the other three that they asked him to accompany them to the summit in New York, and Michael whines on about not getting an invite of his own. Meanwhile, the leather trio across the way pisses and moans about Max's having "the same brick head as Zan." Well, duh. Isa-Hell notes, "He goes to the summit or we're stuck on this wretched planet for the rest of our lives." Stares. Stares. Stares. And then…no, wait. More stares.
Yo, score me some Mobil Speed Pass product-placement, people, 'cause this scene is FILLER. Morning. Still in the UFO Center, Alex is sound asleep in a lounge chair while Maria snarks at Liz about not telling her that Mr. Tee Hee slipped her some tongue lovin' and that Lizbot didn't know it wasn't Michael. Or something. Liz tells Maria to "get over it," making it All About Her in changing the subject to a host of Previously On clips we've already seen because we don't have TiVo and we watch the episode in a linear order so, in reality, we don't need to hear things twice and we don't need to hear things twice. Hee. Cough. Sigh. Oh, fine, here it is: "This thing kind of happened with Kyle. But it didn't really happen, and I can't tell Max what I didn't do, but I can't tell you what I didn't do, either. So don't ask me to explain it, okay?" Blah, and she feels stupid being at the UFO Center with all those people. Alex wakes up. It's 7:30 in the morning. Who proposed in the drinking game that any entire night away from the parents without any explanation is worth at least a shot or three? Word. Anyway, all of the lights in the UFO Center suddenly turn on. Simon walks in as Max advises the Urbania Three to "hide." Simon spots the rest of the crowd and complains all furiously, "What the hell is this?" Mr. Tee Hee attempts to diffuse some of the tension by heaping more bizarro confusion and ambiguity on the situation, walking to Michael and inexplicably standing there. Michael introduces his "twin brother, Bob," and Simon, almost hurt, claims, "I didn't know you had a brother." Because he even knew who Michael was? What. Ev. Er. Another crack about New York and hair, and as Simon reaches a fever-pitch of fury concerning these interlopers, Maria strides up and asks him if he'd like to go out to breakfast with him. She takes his arm and they stride out, Simon actually claiming, "Stay as long as you like." Wow. I can't think of one level on which that contrived turn of events did not bother me. Mr. Tee Hee ups the hilarity ante again in asking Michael, "Want me to kill him for you?" Michael looks directly not in his doppelganger's eyes: "I'll get back to you on that." They both purse their lips. Double shots. Crack open a new bottle. My roommates are starting to worry.
Breakfast at the Crashdown, with the only two members of the wait staff engaged in non-uniformed activities. No one seems to be shedding much of a tear for the memory of dear, departed Courtney. I'm just sayin'. Simon starts right in with the Deep Musings, asking Maria if she believes in God. Sheesh. Not after this hour. Talk turns to aliens, and Maria knows all about Simon's abduction. She tells him that she looked in his background on this so-called "Internet Machine," and found out all about his experience. He tells her, "I've got a feeling it's about to happen again." Why? "Things, missing moments of time," blah, and he tells her not to worry if he disappears for a couple of days. She's okay with that. He's not okay with the fact that she's okay. Okay.
Back in the UFO Center, Tess Arquette notes again that Max will never change his mind, and Isa-Hell smiles conspiratorially, telling them that Max will be coming to New York "one way or another." Tess Arquette stands up and frowns, "I don't want to be a part of this" before storming away. Mr. Tee Hee thinks she's becoming "a real problem." Ooooh. It's a war against themselves. When I sober up, I'm going to remember to think that this scene kicks ass.
Max sits at his desk in front of his turned-off iMac (sorry, Jeff) when Isa-Hell walks into his room. She tells him that there was something she never told Zan, but if she can clear her conscience to Max, she can "get it out of [her] head." They sit. "I wanted to apologize. For betraying you." She tells him that Vilandra "had it bad for a guy named Khivar. We sold you out, man. We're the ones with blood on our hands. We're the ones who got everybody killed." Max reasons that neither she nor Isabel are technically Vilandra, and Isa-Hell adds that Isabel carries this secret like a curse and blah. Max also knows that "Isabel would never betray [him]," and she knows this is true, seeing as she would never do that to Zan. What happens doesn't deserve its own paragraph break.
Okay, I guess it does. Cut to a strange outdoor location (side of the Crashdown, maybe), where Max waits for Isabel to approach before launching in, "You lied to me about Vilandra." Isabel begins to deny, deny, deny, but Max gives himself over to that scourge called "ACTING" when he shoots her down with a stifling, "Shut. Up. She betrayed me. And Michael, and Tess, and our mother. Our whole planet?" Max continues that he had to hear this news from "a stranger," who at least possessed the decency to apologize for what not-really-she did wrong. Isabel lashes back, "Fine. FINE. Now you know." But she continues that she won't stand around and apologize for something someone else did in another life, fairly holding up a sign that reads, "If not an Emmy, at least a Teen Choice Award?" when she screams actily -- or acts screamily -- "You treat everybody like they're your property! I don't belong to you, Max. I never did." He says he doesn't know her at all (hint hint, ahem), and she tells him he's finally getting what he deserves: "Finally looking in the mirror and seeing what you really are, and you are no king. You are a self-centered, self-indulgent little boy." He advances on her angrily and grabs her arm, just as a too-conveniently-appearing Michael (hint hint, cough cough COUGH) steps in to break it up, asking Max, "What are you doing?" He's going to New York. Michael calls this "an amazingly bad idea," and Max snipes back, "If you think it's bad, Michael, then I know it's the right thing to do." Hint hint, cough brap cough…buuuuuurp. Max storms away as Michael calls after him, "Fine! Go be with them!" And for once, they have the common decency to keep up the routine at least until he's out of earshot. And then the Wonder Twins morph back into Mr. Tee Hee and Isa-Hell, intoning, "Start spreading the news" and "We're leaving today" and making me really, really happy I had the forethought to withhold most of my metro-ignorance-bashing until week's episode. I, for one, am really looking forward to it. They kiss with much tongue.
Liz sits on her bed, holding a teddy bear and looking at a row of pictures from a photo booth that she and Max took together when…I'm sorry, he'd never do that. Suddenly, a knock on the window, and there he is. She opens the window. More dreary silence. This episode could have been twenty minutes long. He speeches that he knows she wants to be friends, but "I can't be friends with you." Word. Oh, more? "I'm still hanging on to you. To what we had. So I decided to make a clean break." Oh, great idea. Hey, Sars, what would you think if I…okay, forget it. He gives her an engraved pocketknife (that is what that is, right?) reading "Max and Liz 4ever." Puke. She tells him, "Max. This is yours. I gave it to you last Christmas." But the very day, he gave it away. This year, to save him from tears, he'll give it to someone special. Wow. Shameless George Michael referencing now entering, like, its fourth straight week. Epic, people. Epic. Anyway, he tells her he's going to New York, and she begs him, "When you're at the summit? The granolith. Okay? It's powerful and it can be really dangerous if the wrong people get their hands on it." He wants to know how she knows anything from anything about the granolith, and she whines and whines some more, "You just have to trust me." He tells her, "I guess that's the problem, Liz," and climbs back out the window. Epic.
The Urbania Three wait outside The Trans Am of Misbegotten Motives, and Tess accompanies Max to meet them. The Thrashing Guitar of the Dispossessed Urban Alien kicks up anew, and the Urbania Three throw each other some guilty glances as a flashback sequence shows us how it ended for Mad Max back in Non York. Isabel bounces Status and Quo's basketball in front of Mad Max, and as he bends down to retrieve it, a fast-moving truck plows out of nowhere down the otherwise empty street and Mr. Tee Hee pushes him right in front of it. Ha! Why didn't the Roswell folk think of that? Apparently, this was Tess Arquette's flashback, for as Max gets in the car, she has an attack of conscience, snapping to and commenting, "It's too tight." There's no room for her. She's not going back to New York. Mr. Tee Hee takes her by the arm and she screams, "What, are you gonna kill me?" Max looks on, furrowed brow. Tess Arquette decides to stay, and the other three leap in the Trans Am together and roar into the darkness. Hiccup.