Oy. You people obviously have no idea how long it took me to come up with all twelve items for last week's list. And you thought the recaps took me too long before. ["How do you think I feel? I got less votes than Alan frickin' Keyes." -- Kenny The Corpse] On the other hand, it appears that there's also apparently a disturbingly large percentage of you with the name "Nathaniel" tattooed on your asses, so who knows what's up with these polls. At any rate, the people have spoken, and unlike the State of Florida, the United States Supreme Court, and the Federal Election Commission, I'll be bowing to the will of the masses. And with any luck, I'll be doing it before the episode airs. Maybe.
So on a note that's not quite as random as it seems, am I the only one who can't hear the phrase "Dead Guy Du Jour" without immediately flashing on the diner scene from Dumb & Dumber? Mmmm, that sounds good. Anyway, speaking of Dumb & Dumber, here comes the DGDJ himself, along with his assistant. They're janitors working the night shift in some industrial-sized bakery in the LA basin, and the DGDJ (a.k.a. Dumb) is teaching his apprentice (a.k.a. Dumber) how to clean the giant dough-stirring vats. Dumb explains that it's important to keep them clean to prevent bug infestation, and after some insipid folderol from Dumber about the possibility of just spraying them down with Raid, Dumb climbs inside the vat to start scrubbing. Dumber leans over the top to hand in a bucket and sponges, and then inquires if anyone has ever had sex in one of the vats. Cut back to Dumb, who's wedged between a couple of wicked looking metal blades and wondering why on Earth anyone would do something like that. Which makes perfect sense, because everyone knows the only appropriate place to have sex in this world is the janitor's closet at LAX. Wow. Could you imagine the lines there would be if that were actually true? It'd make Disneyland look like a day at the DMV. Anyway, Dumber suddenly notices a roach crawling on his hand, and falls from the ladder in his efforts to shake it off. Predictably, he accidentally engages the dough-stirring mechanism, and we hear Dumb's suddenly strangled screams from inside the vat. With the Ironic Musical Detachment Fairy receiving an unexpected week off (and wasn't it nice of him to spend it helping me out with the homepage teaser?), the only question left is whether Alan Ball will elect to show us the presumably bloody contents of the aforementioned vat. Thankfully, he does not, and we simply fade to the non-musical, yet still ironically white, Title Card of Death, which informs us that Dumb's given name was Thomas Romano. And thus is born another Dead Guy Du Jour. Thanks, Flo.
Fade back up on Brenda's boudoir, as the camera pans across an empty bed and the soundtrack treats us to the worst fake laughter I've heard from an actor since my appearance in the Herbert Hoover Elementary School's sixth-grade production of "A Thousand And One Arabian Nights." Incidentally, that's when I first knew that any chance I might have at a career in entertainment would be behind the camera, not in front of it. Or perhaps making fun of it, but that's a different story. Anyway, Nate and Brenda have been rolling about on the floor, arguing over which one of them makes funnier noises during sex. I'd guess Nate, what with the wind whistling through the chest hair and all. The radio, which has just informed us that we're listening to KPDX In The Morning, begins blaring an old Big Band tune, and Nate wistfully confesses that he loves this music because his dad would play all the records when he was a kid. Brenda is somewhat surprised, as she would have pegged him as more of the Sting or U2 fan. Oh, please. Don't you think Sting is a little white-bread for a guy who hasn't shaved in a month? Nate figures Brenda was into the "hardcore punk stuff as a kid," and she admits that she was, although "that may have been the heroin talking." Nate gives Brenda the same worried look I was giving the writers before Brenda admits that it was a just a joke. "I love that look," she smirks, as he finally rises from the floor. Peter Krause delights the vast legions of his fans with a flash of the old trapezoid-butt, and scampers off to put on his jeans. He then mentions that he hopes David agrees to sell the business so that he can "get the hell out of here and go back to Seattle." Realizing the relationship faux pas he's just committed, Nate quickly amends that by inviting Brenda to go with him. I invite her to go to Seattle alone, but no one ever listens to me. Anyway, they flirt a bit more (with said flirting requiring Peter Krause to perform a virtual squat-thrust), and she tells him that he's out of his mind. "Oh, yeah?" he responds. "Then how come my name is branded on your ass?" Brenda gapes in disbelief, and Nate salvages some pride by saying, "I love that look."
Much like myself, the Ironic Segue Fairy apparently never gets a week off, as we cut from Nate's "I love that look" to one of this show's signature depth-of-field shots. David is slumped at the kitchen table in the foreground, with Mom scrubbing dishes at the sink behind him. He moans about all the nasty things Kroehner is doing to put them out of business. Mom feels he's being too dramatic, and that The Late Nate never let these sorts of things bother him. Claire comes down the steps, looking radiant in her red robe, and answers her mother's inquiry as to what's going on with, yep, that's right, a musical number. The house lights dim, and Claire rips off the robe to reveal a singularly unflattering sequined gown. Mom and Michael C. Hall appear behind her as backup singers and dancers, and I'll give you one guess as to which of those two looks as if they've actually worked on Broadway before. Anyway, Claire sings, David smiles, and the director apparently forgets everything he learned in composition class at film school as he cuts off half of David's head and can't keep his characters on their light marks. I also wonder if Peter Krause will be forced to retract his well-publicized criticism of Ally McStarfucker sometime soon. Thankfully, the song ends and we cut back to Claire at the table. Then Nate arrives and, much to David's dismay, divulges that he spent the night at Brenda's. "Why do you have to tell people everything you do all day?" wonders his brother, and Nate apologizes; he forgot they were all "supposed to live under a veil of secrecy." Anyway, Nate thinks they should sell, because it's an excellent offer. David is indignant, and they rehash much of the first two episodes' plotlines before Mom chimes in that she agrees with Nate. David storms off in a huff, angrily giving them permission to sell and "invalidate [his] entire life." Which, I thought, was precisely what he wanted. Nate announces that he'll inform Gilardi tomorrow.
Cut to The Sitting Room Of Coffin Selection, where Dumb's fat, frumpy wife and two thin, frumpy daughters (all of whom are apparently being played by Molly Shannon in full-on Superstar mode) are making funeral arrangements. They finally settle on a resting vessel with a satin interior, and then Bitchy Daughter (as opposed to Whiny Daughter) mentions that they only selected Fisher & Sons because the brochure promised a "gifted restorative artist." David is a bit taken aback by the idea that they might want an open casket for a guy who was essentially shredded, but readily agrees once they threaten to take their business elsewhere. I think I caught Whiny Daughter sniffing her armpits in that last shot. Cut downstairs, where Federico is inquiring about the "Humpty Dumpty." Get it? Because they have to put him back together again? What insouciant wit this show displays. Federico is airbrushing rouge (but not Regina Rouge) onto some dead woman's face as he explains that he can't pick Dumb up from the morgue because of a family commitment. David offers him some extra cash to do the job, but finally Federico convinces him to send Nate.
Which he does, and now we see Nate and a non-Asian morgue attendant carrying a body bag out to the van. Nate repeats the Humpty Dumpty line on the off chance it might be funnier the second time, and then drops his end of the bag. The attendant warns him to be careful, because "that could be his head. Or his pelvis." Yeah, I always get those two confused as well. It's probably why I can never get a second date. They heave the bag into the van, and Nate claims to just be a temp over at Fisher & Sons. The attendant asks if he knew "old man Fisher," to which Nate replies that he in fact did not. At least that's true, if the flashbacks are any indication. Finally, the attendant suggests that he call the temp agency and request a different assignment. "I'm already on it," reports Nate.
Over at the High School that every TV show ever has filmed at, Claire is leaving one of those long, rambling, embarrassing messages we're all familiar with on Gabe's answering machine. As she babbles about how she was thinking about him, but only in a "casual" way, a large group of students gathers behind her to point and laugh. Claire finally looks up and notices that the Lean Green Corpse Machine has been vandalized, and is now covered with such quaint little homilies as "Toe-Slut" and "Oink, Oink, Little Piggy." Lauren Ambrose perfectly conveys shock, bewilderment, and shame as she runs to the car and drives off, and I'm almost forced to change the channel because I feel so bad for her. For some reason, I find it almost painful to watch characters get embarrassed like that. And it doesn't help that, like most writers, I've got a highly overactive imagination, so I can really feel what they're going through. You see, sometimes, late at night, when I'm writing recaps and bemoaning the fact that the little green timer on the VCR is still closer to 0:00 than 0:60, I like to fantasize that I'm attending some posh, official MBTV function where I meet and fall in love with any of the alluringly intelligent women working for the site. It's usually Jessica or Strega, although sometimes, when I'm really, really drunk, Demian or Gustave might make the occasional cameo appearance. Interestingly though, it's almost never Sars, as she's quite clearly more in love with Daniel than me. Anyway, this co-worker and I end up sharing a mythic, almost Buffy/Angel-style love, and of course the inevitable e-card wedding invitations request the Mighty Big Favor of a reply. And then when the day finally arrives, everyone cries when instead of "I do" we say "We. Get. It," and Pamie and djb bust out the karaoke machine to provide entertainment at the reception while the guests eat their fishcakes. Afterwards, when we've run off to enjoy a glamorous honeymoon in Pago Pago or Bora Bora or somewhere somewhere, Wing and Sars get together and write a tag-team recap of the event in which the word "soulmate" is used repeatedly without irony, and the phrase "downward spiral" appears not at all. But then eventually I always wake up, and find there's still forty-three minutes left in the show, and it's 4:38 in the morning, and all the people I've named in this paragraph are reading it and feeling awkward about it, and while it's true that you now know exactly what I meant about turning away in embarrassment back there, maybe it's just time to get back to the recap.
So David and Keith are going shopping for a ceiling fan. David rants on and on about how Nate just thinks he can do whatever he wants, but then he also admits that he's been feeling an enormous sense of relief all day. "I don't know if I want to keep it," he says. "I could do anything. I'm still young. Right?" Keith smiles and replies, "Are you kidding? You're still a baby." Amen, brother. They discuss various fans, with Keith dismissing one because it's too "Mayberry," but liking another because he can visualize Ava Gardner and Clark Gable sitting beneath it. Then he engages in a long fantasy about truck stops and handsome drifters, and I've got to figure that's exactly the sort of thing that got George Michael into trouble a few years back. As they chat, some guy passes right between them, giving David a long, lingering look as he brushes past. A disbelieving Keith reports, "That guy just cruised you. Bitch. Right in front of me like I'm not even here." Okay, Mathew St. Patrick's delivery cracked me up, but let's be honest: Given a choice between the two, what self-respecting gay man would cruise David over Keith? I mean, come on. I'm halfway attracted to Keith, for God's sake.
House of Stiffs. No, I haven't found a better name for it. Yes, I've been trying. Really. No, really. In order to spare you any further strain on your groaning muscles (and with a four-show marathon coming up, they'll need all the rest they can get), I'll be using the reader-submitted alternative of Old McFisher's "Bought The" Farm (tm Perdita) for the remainder of the recap. Mom opens the door to greet some smarmy friend of hers who's brought lemon bars for the kids. Which is good, because I'm certainly not going to eat them. The friend, whose name is Amelia, reports that she skipped her candy-striping assignment at the hospital because her "best friend needed [her]." With that, she puts a consoling arm on Ruth's shoulder, and Mom looks mortified.
Cut to a fancy conference room with a huge "Kroehner Service International" sign adorning the back wall. Nate and Gilardi are alone in the room, with The Kroehner Kreep complimenting Nate on his decision to sell. They argue a bit over whether it should be called the "funeral business" or (gack!) "the death-care industry." Gilardi enthuses that the rapidly approaching death of the baby-boomer generation will (hopefully) lead to bodies being everywhere, and I'm not sure whether to laugh at the line or be annoyed that the idea was stolen straight from a screenplay about nursing homes I wrote three years ago. Because, you know, so many people have seen that script. The Late Nate stands solemnly in the corner, listening as Gilardi denigrates his business sense. Nate tries to stand up for his dad, but Gilardi opines that "if you want to help people, [you should] join the Peace Corps." In an effort to make a Peace Corps joke that doesn't reference Volunteers (and also to reassert my heterosexuality after my two recent comments to the contrary), I was going to tell a funny story about the time I dated a girl who spent two years with the Peace Corps in Belize. But then I decided I've already humiliated myself enough for one week with the whole marriage fantasy thing and bagged the whole idea. You're disappointed. I know. Gilardi goes on to explain their plans for Nate's "unit" (Ack! My eyes!), which include centralizing the "preparation of loved ones" in a facility where technicians are "constantly producing." Because we didn't get the joke about treating dead people like any other corporate product the first thirty-seven times they used it. The Late Nate refers to Gilardi as a "greedy little Nazi fuck," and The Live Nate and The Kroehner Kreep then engage in a battle of euphemisms for the word "hearse" (including such gems as "funeral carriages," "dead-wagons," and "removal vans"). Finally, Nate decides that this all makes people into "human McNuggets," and I am so never eating at McDonald's again. But more on that later. After some more paternal mocking from The Late Nate, Gilardi hands over a check for the initial payment, thus bringing the meeting to a close.
Back at school, Claire corners Gabe and reams him out for having told his buddies the toe-sucking story. Gabe seems almost redeemable as he reacts in shock, then bashfully confesses that he did sorta tell this one friend about it. But when Claire relates that the entire school is now calling her "This Little Piggy-Lover," he cracks up laughing and totally ruins any chance he might have had at being considered a decent guy. "You know, it's not like I thought this was going to work out," she tells him, "because God knows, nothing ever works out. But I guess I just wanted to enjoy this a little bit." He tries to defend himself some more, but Claire brushes him off with, "Just once, I wish people wouldn't act like the clichés that they are." Sing it, sister. Also, jot it down and send it off in a memo to the writing staff.
Old McFisher's "Bought The" Farm. Ruth is upstairs with her friend Amelia, tossing black suit after black suit onto the bed and wondering if Nathaniel Sr.'s clothes might be too dull for Goodwill. Amelia tries a little grief counseling, but I'm not sure I could possibly care any less about any plotline involving the mother, so I don't really pay all that much attention. Amelia comes across a list of things Ruth might want to do now that she has more time. The list includes visiting the pyramids (which was fun, but hot. And also smelly) and taking ballet lessons (which was not fun, because I pulled a groin going for second position. Stop looking at me like that). Ruth calls the whole thing stupid. "What am I, going to be in 'Swan Lake'?" When Amelia suggests that she might meet a man in one of these endeavors, Ruth does one of her patented flip-outs and starts obsessing over turning over her mattress. She throws the pile of clothes off the bed, and with Amelia's help they turn the mattress. "An uncovered mattress is so sad," mutters Amelia, and I was going to crack on the writers for unnecessary sap, but then I remembered thinking pretty much the same thing when I moved last month. They finally get the mattress back in place, and Ruth is forced to admit that it doesn't feel any different. Yawn. Wake me when Lauren Ambrose is back.
Cut to Nate, riding along in his dead-wagon. As he comes to a stop sign, the van is suddenly surrounded by protesters waving signs and chanting, "Save our park." In true Ally McThis-Episode-Is-So-Being-Ghostwritten-By-David-E.-Kelley fashion, it's suddenly all about Nate, as demonstrators walk by bearing signs that read, "Sellout," "Take the money and run," and "Go back to Seattle, Bag Boy." The coup de grace is an old guy with a poster reading, "You fucking moron." I'm now forced to admit that, even though as catchphrases go, "You fucking moron" is no "What are you gonna do?" it still cracks me up every time I hear it. The Late Nate appears in the passenger seat and gives The Live Nate some grief (get it?) about how he should keep the business and help people. When Nate Jr. can't answer, DeadDad tells him to go back to "peddling soy milk and nailing waitresses." Finally, the honking of a car horn jerks Nate back to reality, and us into the scene.
At the McFisher Farm, Nate has decided that he doesn't want to sell after all. David likes the idea. "We'll keep the business for the rest of the day, and then sell it again tomorrow for a few hours," he says. "It's a good system. We'll sell it in the mornings, keep it in the afternoons, and then maybe sometimes we'll sell it again in the evenings when we really can't make a decision." Mom pipes up that David isn't being fair, and Dave points out (quite correctly) that she was all in favor of selling when Nate suggested it, but now that he's the one who wants to sell, she's not sure. "Okay, I'm a terrible mother who's responsible for all your problems. Happy?" she replies, and she'll get no argument from me on that one. David goes on to point out that Nate can't even stand to be in the same room as a dead body. "I know," answers Nate, "but there's a reason for that." I cringe in anticipation of a flashback that will show us precisely what that reason is, and then wince even harder when we don't get it and I realize that now I'll have the anticipation of said flashback hanging over my head for at least another week. "This is what I'm supposed to do," continues Nate, "that's why I've spent so much time running away from it." He wants to keep the business and run it together as "brothers, the way [they] used to be." More babbling about helping people, and I again nod off and fantasize that the show will eventually reveal that they're actually superheroes who disguise themselves as Clark Kent-ish funeral directors, and that all this "helping people" will involve flying, explosions, and cool CGI special effects. Then I wake up to another locked focus shot of Dave agreeing to keep the business, and Nate tearing up Gilardi's check. Oh well.
Cut to Brenda's House Of A Thousand Interior Sets, where she and Nate are celebrating with some champagne. Nate doesn't want her to waste expensive liquor on him, but Brenda explains that her parents got a whole case of the stuff when they served as technical advisors on "some TV movie…[a] serial killer thing for cable. God, they're such whores." And yeah, I know I'm the last person who should be critical of others for going excessively meta, but come on, guys -- that's the third time you've made the "cable sucks" joke, and it's really getting old. Then again, I'm recapping this crap for money, so I guess that makes me a whore too. At least it's not Big Brother. There ain't enough champagne in the world to get me near that one. Nate explains that he's always wanted to tell off a corporate suit, and then he uses the phrase "greedy little Nazi fuck," just like Daddy did. Brenda's surprised reaction to that expression adds a significant amount of fuel to the "she was sleeping with The Late Nate" fire, and I so hope they don't go in that direction. It's just wrong, and creepy, and the visuals are entirely too unappealing for me to contemplate right now. Nate reports that Gilardi took the news pretty calmly, and that there doesn't appear to be anything Kroehner can do to them. Cut to the Fisher Farm, where David is furious that some other funeral home is poaching one of their customers. The removal van driver explains that they were underbid by another "unit" that just got bought out by Kroehner. Back at Brenda's, Nate admits that he also had an ulterior motive for staying in LA, but Brenda doesn't want to hear it. She refers to herself as being just "the extra bonus that probably won't work out." Well, here's hoping. "Sometimes your honesty gets really tiresome," answers Nate, and that I will agree with. Brenda suddenly remembers that she has a gift for him, and runs off to grab a pair of tickets to some big band show at the Palladium. Nate is surprised when he notices that the tickets are for three weeks from now, and wonders how she knew he wasn't going to be in Seattle. We're thankfully spared any mystical psychobabble when she simply replies, "I didn't."
Nighttime at Old McFisher's "Bought The" Farm. David comes downstairs in his pajamas and grabs a snack from the fridge. Sitting down to eat, he notices the ripped remains of the Kroehner check, which have conveniently been lying on the kitchen table all this time. Good thing they didn't bother to establish that Mom is a neat freak who's constantly straightening up the kitchen, or this might have seemed really contrived. Oh, wait. They did. And it does. Fade to white.
The morning, Nate comes down to visit Federico in the basement. Before they can chat, Rico's wife calls, and he has to leave to deal with her pregnancy-related raging hormones. Rico asks Nate to move Dumb onto the table, and he does, with predictably disastrous results. The bag opens, spilling pieces all over the floor, and just then Claire enters to ask Nate for advice. "I don't know if you noticed," snarks Nate, "but I'm a little busy right now, swimming in a man's guts." After grabbing something that's conveniently left off-screen, he complains, "I'm picking up a part of a person, and I don't even know what it is." Claire agrees to come back later, and as we hear Nate puking, she runs out and passes David on the steps. Remember that later, when they show this in flashback. Anyway, David enters the basement and finds Nate hunched over the sink, still in mid-vomit. He offers Nate a job that's "better suited to [his] particular talents."
Cut to Nate outside, trimming the hedges. Okay, that gets half a "heh." Gilardi approaches and imparts the news that Kroehner has just purchased the abandoned house across the street, and that they plan to put Fisher & Sons out of business in six months. Back inside, David is appalled to learn that Kroehner is putting in a "Poseidon Society." As was I, because who the hell wants Ernest Borgnine and Shelley Winters climbing around the neighborhood all upside-down and stuff? David explains that Poseidon Societies are low-cost crematoriums where "for a fraction of what [they] charge, you can dump off of the relative you never really liked anyway at the Torch-Mart across the street." Heh -- but why would a crematorium be named after the God of water? Just asking. David lists off a whole string of suppliers and vendors that are backing out on their deals with Fisher & Sons, and then adds that, "by some unknown reason by the name of Kroehner," they're up for a health department investigation. Just when things can't possibly get any worse, Federico appears to ask Nate if he by any chance might happen to have Dumb's foot lying around.
Down in the basement, the boys search in vain for the missing foot. David isn't happy, which Nate finds "very interesting, because [he's] ecstatic." Federico points out that both feet were listed on the morgue manifest, and then Mom wanders in and wonders what they're looking for. She suggests looking under the bed, which Nate feels isn't a likely location in this particular instance. "That's what people always say," answers Mom, "and then they find what they're looking for under the bed." If they do find the foot under the bed, I'm going to be really annoyed. Mom opens the washing machine and exclaims, "Oh my god!" which of course makes the boys think they've found the foot. Instead, it turns out to be a Kleenex left in the wash, which has gotten all over everything. That's happened to me way more times than I can count, so I'm not going to say anything. In fact, just today, while I was writing this recap, I left a blue sock in with a half-dozen white T-shirts and now everything looks tie-dyed. I miss my mommy. I don't miss Nate and David's, however, even after she goes back upstairs. Nate then tries to retrace his steps and remember where he might have lost the foot, but he can't come up with anything. David sighs, "I'd say it's an eight-million-dollar lawsuit," and Federico thinks that might even be too low.
Old McFisher's bought the farm, E-I-E-I-O
And on that farm he had a corpse, E-I-E-I-O
With a left foot here and a right foot there
Here a foot. There a foot. Everywhere a foot foot.
Old McFisher's bought the farm, E-I-E-I-Ewww
Remember, it's all Perdita's fault. Cut to the school, where a determined Claire stomps down the halls, ignoring the catcalls and invitations to check out some guy's size-twelve shoes. She's carrying a red bag. That will be important later.
Over at the McFisher Farm, Ruth is arranging the throw pillows on her bedroom chairs. That will never be important. Finally, she gives in to her ennui and calls up Amelia to ask for help.
Back at the school, Gabe opens his locker to find the red bag. He looks inside and then falls backward, screaming in shock. The Ironic Segue Fairy cuts us back the Sitting Room Of Coffin Selection, where Mrs. Dumb asks, "Is he all put back together?" Nate and David assure them that he is, but won't let them see the body yet because their "embalmer is a little on the artistic side. He gets crazy if he gets any input." The air-quotes Peter Krause puts around "input" totally sell the line. I'm going to have to try that one time Sars gives me "input" about misplacing my semi-colons. Yeah, like I even remember to use semi-colons. Sorry. Whiny Daughter offers up Dumb's shoes for him to wear in the casket, and of course they turn out to be sandals. You know, I've heard of stepping on your own joke, but don't you think that's taking it a bit too far? Bitchy Daughter insists that Dumb will be buried in his loafers, and David jumps right on that one, saying, "Yes, I myself have loafers which are just like walking on air." Ha! That's all Michael C. Hall, but it works. Frequent users of their pause button (and TiVo has the best pause button ever) will note that Peter Krause is desperately trying not to crack up in the background.
Daniel Day-Lewis: Now see, I just know there's a foot-related Unbearable Lightness Of Being joke hiding in this recap somewhere, but I can't seem to find it.
Alan Ball: Daniel Day-Lewis? What in the name of the father are you doing here? You're not dead yet. Are you?
Daniel Day-Lewis: You mean you haven't figured it out? You know, it's the whole My Left Foot thing. Get it?
Alan Ball: Yeah. I blame sher for this.
Daniel Day Lewis: Hey, where are you going?
Alan Ball: I'm getting out of here. Immediately.
Daniel Day Lewis: Just remember, no matter how long it takes, no matter how far, I WILL find you!
Later, the boys are walking through the service room, with Nate suggesting that they just come clean and explain the situation to Dumb's family. I've since come to realize that Dumb isn't exactly the best nickname for this guy, but I've made it this far and I'm not turning back now. I just thought you should know that. Anyway, David has to run out, but before he leaves he tells Nate that when he returns, he'd like to be greeted by "a foot, a solution on how to stop a billion-dollar corporation from putting [them] out of business, and pruned hedges." That seems like a lot of work for one man to handle, but then again, I've had a pretty busy week myself. Since last we spoke, I've celebrated a birthday, made eight trillion phone calls, played incessantly with the aforementioned TiVo, and spent $21,000 of someone else's money. I'll be pruning my hedges as soon as I finish this recap. Provided the episode hasn't started yet, of course.
Cut to some crap-ass video stock footage of horses at the track. Why do TV shows always think they can get away with trying to pawn off some ten-year old Betacam footage on us when the rest of the show is clearly being done on film? The X-Files used to be super-bad about that, but that was before Chris Carter finally got them a budget. You'd think HBO could afford to splurge for the extra film stock. Then again, a significant portion of that $21,000 went for film stock, so I know how expensive it can be. Anyway, it's Mom and her friend at the track, and I guess this is the friend's idea of fun. They go inside to place a bet, and spot some couple kissing in the line. "They both look so happy," says Ruth, and the couple looks up to smile at them. Then Mom launches into a strident monologue about how romance fades, and people grow apart, and then they start lying, and then everyone dies. The couple runs away as fast as politely possible, but Ruth keeps screaming that "everyone dies eventually!" Yawn. Wake me when Lauren Ambrose is back.
Having apparently exhausted their quota of low-angle shots for the week, we now cut to an overhead shot of Keith and David lying on Keith's bed. We're looking down through the ceiling fan as the boys discuss whether or not it's wobbling. "Life is strange," declares David. "If just one of those tiny screws isn't screwed on tight enough, that thing could fall and kill us instantaneously. Just chop us to bits like a Cuisinart." David smiles at the thought, but Keith gives a semi-frightened glance before chiming in with, "An assassin with a semi-automatic could walk in and spray our brains all over the place." An assassin? He's a cop, and he actually uses the word "assassin"? Uh, okay. David is really enjoying this game, but it's interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone. It's Federico, who reports that Claire's school has just called to say that she's in trouble. At first, Keith dismisses the call as just another attempt by David to weasel out of a potentially intimate situation, but as David's tone gets more urgent he looks back with interest. Finally, David hangs up and explains that there's a rumor going around the school that Claire put a dismembered foot into someone's locker. Keith is shocked, but David has a flashback to seeing Claire running up the basement stairs. As the flashback continues, we're treated to a shot of Claire reaching under the table to grab the foot. The only problem is, where she's currently reaching is precisely where Nate was standing when we saw her leave the room WITHOUT THE FOOT. Now, that's just bad blocking, and I can assure you that this episode's editor had a few choice words for the director when it was all over. Back from the flashback, David is going crazy. No one knows where either Claire or the foot might be, and he whines that he "just [doesn't] understand…kids. When [he] was her age, [he] never would have taken a foot." Keith offers to help because "this is what [he does]." "You find feet?" asks David. In LA, anything is possible, my friend.
Of course, while the cops are all out finding feet, Nate and Brenda are breaking and entering into the house across the street. You remember, the one Kroehner bought? Nate berates himself for getting the family into this mess, making sure to call himself a "fucking moron" as he is contractually required to do by the HBO Sunday Night Catchphrase Department. Brenda seems more interested in the fact that Nate used to play with the little girl who lived there when he was a kid. As Nate sits down on the moldy, nasty, spiderweb-covered sofa that's been sitting in the dingy, rat-infested, abandoned house for the last twenty years, he bemoans the fact that he doesn't want to see "that greedy little Nazi" win. Looks like Gerald Levin has hired himself a Catchphrase Fairy, don’t you think? Young Ghost Nate runs through the room with Young Ghost -Door-Neighbor Girl, and Old Live Nate continues to wallow in self-pity. Brenda sees this as a perfect opportunity to back away from the relationship, pointing out that they've only known each other for a month, and that "there's no big investment." Then she joins him on the couch and moves in for a kiss. Man, I hate this character. Nate reminisces about Young Neighbor Girl trying to kiss him when they were kids. "You can't control everything," says Brenda, and Nate joins the six people left watching in replying, "Shut up. Just shut up." She keeps babbling, and he keeps telling her to shut up, and then they start macking all over the nasty, disgusting sofa. In the background, the Ghost Kids watch and sing a little nursery rhyme. "Maire-sy dotes and dosey dotes and little lamb contrivies…"
At the school, Keith is interrogating Gabe about the foot. Gabe has backed off his story and now says the whole thing was just a joke. Keith, who keeps referring to Claire as "crazy funeral-home girl," doesn't buy that for a second. Gabe, on the other hand, keeps digging his own grave (pun not intended, but kinda funny anyway) by calling Claire a loser. Keith then decides to switch tactics, and slings an almost Sipowicz-like line of bullshit about chemicals that can tell if Gabe has touched human remains or not. Just as the dumb kid is about to confess, he looks over and sees David hanging out the window of Keith's cop car. David looks shell-shocked, almost as if he's been on a bender for the last few days. Gabe asks who David is, and Keith gives him the old "that's my psycho partner" routine. In fact, he describes David as being "into some crazy-ass shit," and also as "a crazy-ass guy." Wow. Thanks for making that crazy-ass clear. David waves and sticks his head back into the car, and we cut away before finding out if Gabe confesses.
Oy. Mom and Friend at the track again. They're getting drunk and gambling, and Mom has just won $4,000 on a horse. High on champagne and success, Ruth confesses her affair, and Amelia is shocked.
Cut to the weirdest flashback yet, as a young Brenda plays tea party in a little fort made of blankets. A phone rings, and the little girl answers it in adult Brenda's voice before we cut back to the present day to see Nate sleeping on the natty sofa. Brenda goes to the other room to take the call, and we can hear an angry man's voice demanding her attention on the other end. Brenda tells the guy to stay put and she'll call him in half-an-hour, and then Nate wakes up and asks whom she's talking to. She doesn't tell him, but immediately bolts, asking him to "back off" because she can't deal with things right now. Finally, she leaves, and Nate and the four viewers left watching scratch their heads and go "huh?" in unison. I've got some guesses as to what that was all about, but since none of them are things I'd actually enjoy watching, I won't be sharing those guesses.
Cut to Keith's cop car. He and David are cruising the streets in search of the wayward limb, and David is dismayed to learn that Gabe apparently got scared and tossed the foot out of his car window. Insert your own Lorena Bobbit joke here. Or don't, as I'll be making one for you in just a few minutes. David has to get home, but Keith volunteers to continue the search, saying, "How could I sleep at night, knowing there's a foot on the loose?" I'm sure his dedication will make the city proud.
Old McFisher's Farm. Nate and Mom are huddled around the kitchen table, and Nate is shocked to learn that Mom lost $25,000 at the track. Wow. I feel better about the $21,000 now, although my investors would have likely had better luck at the track anyway. Let's not tell them that, though, okay? Mom explains that she was on a winning streak, but then things turned bad. "You should have been more careful," he tells her, but she doesn't want to be careful, she "wants to feel alive." Nate thinks that "there should be a way to do that that's a little less expensive," and actually there are several, but most of them are illegal in this state, so I'll just move on. David returns home at this point, shocked to see people who are even more depressed than he is. Before he can even ask what's going on, Mom blurts out that she lost the money and then bolts from the room. Yeah, whatever. Let's get back to the real action, shall we?
And it would appear that said action is taking place in a deserted lot somewhere. Keith scours the area with his flashlight, but doesn't find anything. Suddenly he's joined by Claire, who's on a foot-finding mission of her own. They share some awkward small talk, and then we cut back to the funeral home, where Dumb's service is already in progress. The brothers stand in the back, and Nate expresses relief at the fact that it wasn't he who lost the foot after all. Federico appears, and David compliments him on his restorative prowess. Up at the casket, the Dumb Daughters agree that it is an excellent job. They open the casket to closely examine the entire body, and David quickly runs to the front to put a stop to that. "I know it's silly," says Whiny Daughter, "but I just want to see with my own eyes that Pop's all put together right." Actually, I think it's more contrived than silly, but since I've almost worn out the C, N, and V keys on my keyboard from typing that word so many times, I'll just let it slide. David reluctantly allows them to open the lower portion of the casket, and he and Nate are surprised to see that Dumb is fully assembled and in possession of both his feet. They quickly run back to Rico, who explains that he cobbled together a fake foot out of latex, duct tape, and a leg of lamb he found in the freezer. Damn, this guy's like the MacGyver of embalming. thing you know, he’ll be assembling a nuclear reactor out of paper clips, chewing gum, and the remains of some guy from Three Mile Island.
Back in the Field Of Feet (where, if you dismember it, they will come), Claire is explaining that she was following Gabe to get the foot back when she saw him toss it. I'm wondering how Gabe didn't see that he was being followed by a giant green hearse with "Toe-Sucker" painted on the windshield, but it's late, and I'm tired of trying to figure this crap out. Besides, it's Lauren, and I'm willing to forgive her anything. Anything but another musical number, that is. She rants about how she just wanted revenge and that all guys are assholes, and Keith sighs a bit before agreeing with her. "You ever suck a guy's toe?" she asks him, and he answers in the affirmative. "Yeah, me too."
At the funeral home, the boys all eye Mrs. Dumb warily. Both David and Federico agree that she's a "casket climber," but Nate doesn't think she looks energetic enough. Then he tries to convince David that they should discuss the Kroehner situation with Federico. Rico breaks down and confesses that the real reason he couldn't go pick up the Humpty Dumpty at the morgue was that he was meeting with Gilardi. "I have a right to consider my options," he says, and an indignant David reminds him that The Late Nate put him through mortuary school. Before this can go any further, however, Mrs. Dumb fulfills their prophecy and hurls herself screaming onto the casket, and the boys all run to pull her off.
Meanwhile, Keith and Claire decide to give up looking for the foot. He tries to give her a little pep talk about the consequences of her actions, but she shuts him up by telling him that she knows that he and her brother "are, like, gay." Keith takes it pretty calmly, and Claire asks the question that's been on the minds of the two viewers who are left watching: "What do you see in him anyway?" Keith lists off the usual reasons (smart, kind, funny, et cetera), but really it's because David is an innocent little boy. "Most of the men I meet," he admits, "well, they kind of just want me to be one thing." Claire guesses right away what that might be: "A big, black sex cop?" And yeah, that's so going to be Keith's nickname for the rest of the season, but please nobody open another thread calling me a racist or anything, because I mean it in the nicest possible way. Keith doesn't want to be that guy, and suggests that if that's what people want, they should "rent a video." Judging by the popularity of the porn postings in the Off-Topic Blather section, that does seem to be a viable alternative. "David gets me," he says. "When someone sees you as you really are, and still wants to be with you, that's powerful." Aww. Even Claire is a bit moved by that one. Keith suggests that she be a little nicer to David, because he's under a lot of stress "with that cremation place opening across the street." Claire wasn't aware of that particular piece of information, but that may be due to Foreshadowing popping out from behind a bush to smack her over the head with an anvil.
Old McFisher's. Mom is shocked to learn about her daughter's foot-stealing ways. "You wake up one day and your baby has stolen a foot. Where have I been?" she wonders. "Losing $25,000," David points out, and then Claire enters, looking forlorn. When she sees the whole family staring at her, she explains that she's had a really bad day, and then also mentions that she ran into Keith. Mom wants to know who Keith is, so David has to remind her that he's the cop she met at the funeral. Mom babbles some more, and Nate suggests therapy. For Claire, not Mom. In case you were confused. Claire tells Nate that he's not her father, a factoid which is rapidly approaching "You fucking moron" levels of repetitiveness. "If you need a project, get a dog," she suggests, but I think he'll find housebreaking Brenda to be hard enough. Especially given the previews for week. Claire wraps the scene up by oh-so-casually letting it slip that the house across the street is on fire, and everyone runs outside to take a look. As they all stand on the lawn, watching the building burn, Claire calls out, "I guess this should solve all your problems, huh?" I don't see how, since they still have to deal with the suppliers and the health department and the undercutting competition, but whatever.
And finally, in a surprise ending that's not surprising at all, we cut back to the Field of Feet at dawn. Some woman is searching for her dog, and just as we're about to fade out, the dog runs up with the writer's foot planted firmly in it's mouth. And thus ends another episode of Six Feet Under. But before we go, as promised, and straight from the home office on Park Avenue in Manhattan, here's this week's Top Twelve List:
The Top Twelve Fun Things To Do With A Severed Foot12. Who cares what the rest of the world calls it. You're the one who's REALLY playing football.
11. Makes re-enacting the Godfather horse's head scene with your Brando action figure that much more realistic.
10. In a crowded elevator, pull it out of a bag and use it to smack yourself repeatedly in the head. Then exclaim, "Man, my feet are killing me!" See how many people get off at the floor.
9. For Stephen King fans only: Think of it as packing a lunch in case you ever get stuck on a deserted island.
8. In a pinch, it can also serve as a handy back-up ruler.
7. Since I couldn't think of a clever way to work them into a sentence anywhere, I'll just say it here: Hi, Pontoon, MandaB, and TV_Buffy.
6. Order a Big Mac. When the cashier isn't looking, slip the foot between the two all-beef patties. Sue for $10 billion.
5. Makes an excellent paperweight for print-outs of the new multi-page recaps.
4. No more contorting yourself in the mirror to see if that new pair of sandals shows off your ankles well.
3. Get in touch with your inner Bobbit.
2. And let's face it -- guy or girl, gay or straight -- we've all got that one ex we'd love to mail it to, right?
1. Step One: Wear it on a chain around your neck. Step Two: Go to a bar. Step Three: There is no step three. Step Four: Use "I'm head over heels for you, baby" as a pick-up line. Step Five: Sit back, and watch the chicks come running.
Oh, and don't forget, always put your best foot forward. Also, am I the only who can't believe I made it all this way without a single hokey-pokey jokey? You put your left foot in; you put your left foot out; you put your left foot in and you shake…you know what? That's enough. See you week.