Props to Gigabyte Deluxe. Jewel "Shiksa Without A Cross" Goldman lies on her bed, her blonde tresses spilling every which way toward Zion and the camera swooping across the perfect, snubby bridge of her nose like a rhinoplasty infomercial "after" testimonial. In her left hand, she holds her Picture Phone Of The Fuuuuuuuture, a device powerful enough to captivate the audience and oblige them to believe that constant phone conversations substitute for any actual development of the nascent relationship around which this show purports to center. Or so its corporate sponsors would have us believe. Over the phone, Jew-liet hears the voice of Adam "Looks Like Latin's Not A Dead Language After All" Roam, telling her, "I swear to God, I wish I had different parents. Anybody's parents." Jew-liet responds that Adam doesn't mean that and, I mean, I'm kind of inclined to agree. Anyone? Hitler and Eva? Liza and David? Two wild tigers who reduce to shredded bloody wrecks all human forms who shall enter their lair? But before Jew-liet can pose any of these illuminating hypotheticals ("Yeah, but, what if your parents were King Kong and Godzilla?"), she's drowned out by Adam's fierce protestations of "If I have to choose between them and you, Jewel..." Jew-liet claims that she doesn't believe in having to choose (I'd like to see the pedantic "It's a boyfriend, not a choice!" bumper sticker on the back of her 1978 Dodge), but remember that it's the man's choice too, okay? "I choose you," he says. "I choose you," she says. "I choo-choo-choose you," Adam would have responded, if his parents were Lisa Simpson and Ralph Wiggum. Some people just refuse to see how things could be even worse than they already are. Adam's mother calls his name from off-camera, and Adam panics -- Liza gets strong when she's drunk! -- and hangs up in a flash. Jew-liet cries out a plaintive "I love you!" but alas! He is already gone. Well, at least someone on this show is getting laid. We're in what appears to be a sleazy-ish hotel room, where we pan up the rumpled bedcovers of so many Dateline specials discussing the many human-stained reasons why the bedspread should not be touched, inhaled, or looked at. Poking out of the top of said covers (and adding liberally to its unsanitary nature, we can only imagine) are Thomas "Guilty By Reason Of...Love" Roam and his paramour, the sexy siren Sydney from Melrose. Their faces are close together on what looks like one pillow, and she quickly veers their post-coital musings into some of the most metaphysical pillow talk you're likely to hear on television this year: "Where are you?" she asks him. Oh, for crying out loud. You just banged it with the nasty, there's no need to celebrate it inside the pages of a Thomas Pynchon novel. And so, upon further reflection, Sydney from Melrose tells Roam what she's really thinking: "You just went home. I can always tell. Your eyes, your voice." But Roam -- perhaps thinking that this The Banging Of Lot 49 conversational cadence has run its course -- tries to steer things back in a linear direction by responding...holy dear sweet baby Jesus, what the hell is attacking that man's upper body? Somebody call in the freakin' park ranger, or something. Jesus, Roam's chest hair. Jesus! Indeed, I see fewer and fewer genetic similarities between him and his (come on, let's just deal with it already...adopted) son than I even did before. Roam whispers that "this is insane," and Sydney from Melrose retorts with a barbed but still smiling "Why is it always more insane afterwards than before?" She leans in and tries to make him love her with her vast physical repertoire of tricks, combing her hand through his vast thatches of chest hair and sending the cast and crew of the Harry Potter movie scurrying from the on-set locale where they're filming the last three scenes in that one dark part of the darkest forest where the kids keep being told every year that they're not allowed to go into. But they just keep doing it anyway!
Roam whispers "we gotta go," and then he whispers it again, standing up and making a situation that was already pretty unsexy much, much worse. Sydney from Melrose takes this non sequitur moment to turn the conversation completely back toward work matters, announcing in her most All Business voice, "You need to get the mayor alone, Tom, if you want to get reelected as District Attorney. He's always liked you -- considered you one of his protégés. Remember you have that news conference outside Goldman's club tomorrow." Whoa! The Infotronic2000 is out of control! More input, Sydney from Melrose! More input! I guess she's just glad that this is the first time since she's been in that hotel room that the only thing her mouth has been crammed full of is "exposition." (Whatever. It's a show about sex. I can say whatever I want.) Roam sits at the end of the bed buttoning his shirt (location of pants still a matter of conjecture) and knocking down some of the tiny little "Dry Brush Ahead/ Only You Can Help Prevent Forest Fires" signs placed at strategic sections of his upper body by concerned forestry volunteers who stand guard at the observation deck of Chest Hair National Park. Sydney from Melrose wraps her arms around him and says, "I think I'm falling in love with you." As any good politician must, Roam stays earnestly on message: "I gotta go home." But Sydney from Melrose must have little Other-Women-On-TV experience, for whom it must always end badly as punishment for their trampy, trampy ways. She plows on, explaining that Roam will win his second term and then run for governor, and then the two of them can run off to Sacramento and get married. Oh, Sydney from Melrose. Can't you see it's not to be between you? Roam shakes off the woman who loves him to go home to the woman who feels kind of "meh" about him, slow-mo-ing into the kitchen to find Adam and Mama Roam, cooking dinner and having the time of their lives. Roam sticks in the shadows looking awfully conflicted, all the while highlighting what is the far greater, Gift-Of-The-Magi-like irony of this entire sequence: Adam wished for different parents. And turned his father into a bear. Jew-liet whispers "Let's stay here forever" at the kickoff to these evocative opening credits. One week at a time, sister. I know "Let's make it through sweeps, Jerry" doesn't ring with as much idealistic romance, but let's not go getting ahead of ourselves. Jew-liet spends an inordinate amount of time in bed, but she seems to be so mysteriously alone at it, lo these last few weeks. Her Picture Phone Of The Future rings, and she picks it up: "Hey you, I was just dreaming about you." Adam asks if he woke her up, and she leaps out of bed when she discovers that she is "way beyond late." Adam laughs quietly at his lady love's foibles, but when he goes downstairs and discovers that he's wished his parents into a seasoning cube and a pack of frozen bacon, someone else besides him is going to get the last laugh after all. She rushes around the room grabbing her clothes and freaking, not even taking the time to deal with Adam's request of when he can see her . Jew-liet doesn't know. She has a first-period history quiz. She still hasn't taken a shower. She's just a Smart, Average Kid after all who studies for her first-period history quiz. Has she never been to high school? Doesn't she know all of the answers are either "Hitler" or "Newfoundland"? Oh, wait, my bad. I was actually thinking of a pop quiz called "Trivial Pursuit." She barks into the phone, "CallmeatlunchIloveyoubye" and runs out of the room like hell. Anyway, Jewel, best of luck on that quiz.
Downstairs in the Goldman kitchen, Little Brother 2.0 stands at a blender whirring together some gross kind of brown muck. PornDaddy and PornMommy sit over in a nook area, yelling at him to turn off the blender and demand to know what the hell that thing is. He identifies it as "Muscle Maker 4000," which this episode is apparently brought to you by. "You don't need any more muscles," PornMommy coos like it's a line of dialogue in one of PornDaddy's films, right after the blender repairman shows up and is all "What seems to be the problem" and she's all "Well, the blender isn't thrusting correctly and the oven isn't making things hot" and he's all "I'll show you thrusting that makes things hot" and the music is all "Chick-a-chick-a-wha-wha" and the repairman is all "Say I make your oven hot! Say I make your oven hot!" and the director is all "Now ten minutes of extreme close-ups and that'll be a wrap" and the repairman is all "SAY I MAKE YOUR OVEN HOT!" Once, a friend told me about movies like that. It's the only reason I know anything about them. Jew-liet barely even registers an exiting Little Brother 2.0 as she storms into the kitchen with a rushed series of "good morning"s. PornDaddy calls out from the counter that it wouldn't kill Jew-liet to give her father a hug, and she tries to escape on the grounds of the now-history-making-in-itself first-period history quiz. She hugs PornDaddy goodbye, because he might sell naked ladies for a living but he is a GOOD MAN; they banter about her outfit (and, okay, she's showing a little midriff, but mostly her body is covered by her giant bag, which is so big and secure she could actually stow her secret boyfriend entirely inside of it and sneak him onto airplanes and inside of guarded nuclear facilities); and so on. Before he lets her go, however, PornDaddy asks Jew-liet in that dad voice, "We on track?" She's slightly evasive in a kind-of "whatchoo talkin' about, PornDaddy?" kind of way. Doing ample justice to the infrequently-seen stage direction "Juxtaposing so hard it won't stop until it pulls something and really, really hurts itself," we jet right off to Roam. Mama Roam is in a tizzy of castrating lateness, snapping at Tom to tell someone named "Tony" that she left ten minutes ago. Confused and doddering and looking generally like other things are taking precedence in his mind (wildfires at Chest Hair National Park, 'haps?), Roam can only ask how Adam is getting to school. Mama Roam responds with vast impatience, telling him about the strict regimen of no bus (ooh, to have that taken away from him must have been a real bummer), no sports, no getting any sweet sugary love juice from the hottie princess daughter of the town's biggest PornDaddy. Other restrictions may apply. "I've been doing this all week!" Mama Roam guilts on, so Roam defuses the Mom Bomb as best as he knows how, telling her, "I'm coming home for dinner." Mama Roam doesn't have time to be impressed, and she instructs him, "Don't tell me, tell him. But don't tell him unless you're going to be here." Dear pronouns: thanks for all your hard work! Love, The Script. Her cell phone rings, and Mama Roam is on with Tony and out the door. He! Me! We!
Back at The House On Poon Corner, PornMommy reminds PornDaddy that they're going to be touring a hospital tomorrow. PornDaddy does the first, somewhat less strenuous part of the set-up for the punch line, "It's a big building with patients in it, but that's not important right now," but doesn't give PornMommy enough to go on, so she just deadpans, "The women's oncology center?" The script continues its dumb, loping drive down Exposition Boulevard, knocking over garbage cans and mailboxes like it's in some out-of-control game of Paperboy it has no chance of winning, as PornDaddy reminds her, "You already donated money to them when your mom passed away." Dead mom. Terminal illness. Vast financial reserves in store. Check. PornMommy reminds us that she donated $10 million, but now believes, "If we commit to fifteen million a year over five years..." PornDaddy does the quick calculation and announces the total as $75 million, but PornMommy smiles and tells him it's eighty. No, it's seventy-freakin'-five. Anyway, if they donate eighty, they can donate a whole new wing named after them. PornDaddy susses out some hidden agenda in all this, asking, "Why do I have a feeling this isn't entirely about the hospital?" PornMommy's right on him, responding, "What's the supposed to mean?" Well, PornMommy, it's a big building with patients in it. But that's not important right now. And now, the worst attempt at male bonding since my dad took me to a hooker on my thirteenth birthday. Kidding! Just kidding! She was just a masseuse and we just happened to be in Taiwan at the time. Anyway, Roam and his father (excellently longstanding nicknames still pending) pull up in front of Adam's school, Roam telling his son that he knows things have been tense between them, but that it's going to change now that it's over between him and his campaign adviser so they can start playing basketball in the back yard. Or something. Father/son bonding language is all very pops and buzzes to me, and filled with many and varied references to "the sport" or "the ladies" or "American football" or some such things. Right. Sensing an in and an allegorical reason to talk more about himself than about not himself, Roam hazards this: "You really think you love her?" Adam knows he does. Roam knows something, too: "It's gotta be tough giving up someone you love." Hey! He's talking about his girlfriend to his son secretly! He should go to Dad Jail and be very ashamed. But Roam goes into yet another screed about PornDaddy's business (duh, just look at the nickname, America), telling Adam that Goldman makes movies of young women having hardcore sex. Roam looks his son in the eye and says he doesn't know how PornDaddy looks his daughter in the eye because he's a hypocrite and this circular logic is making me dizzy and oops look I just fell down and oh by the way we get it.
PornDaddy and Right Hand do the walk-and-talk through the hallways of their vast, crumbling empire. There's a big-ass sign on the wall behind the reception desk that says "Golden." Which is not anyone's last name or the name of the company, right? What's going on? Right Hand takes these words for a test drive: "The Goldman Family Women's Oncology Center." He proclaims that it "beats the hell out of a plaque by the elevator." Hey! Corporate-appropriate language in the workplace, please! I think what he means is "it objectifies the bodies of a plaque by the elevator." PornDaddy tells Right Hand that it's not a particularly interesting building that he's about to give his good name to, which also fails to captivate Right Hand as a piece of news. He tells us, "All people care about is the man who forked over the cash to save the ladies from the cancer." Ooooh, you called it "the cancer." That means that now you probably have it. Dude. Don't taunt Happy Fun Ball. Fall in line. PornDaddy's secretary enters and tells the two gentlemen to put on something called "Channel 12." Every place I've ever lived, that's always been the local news station. Growing up, in fact, Channel 12 started off as "News 12 - Long Island," and then was further niche-marketed to become "News 12 - The Massapequas," which ran mostly still slides of neighborhood color (the homecoming parade, the St. Rose Bazaar, Mary Jo Buttafuoco's CAT scan results) and voice-overs of painfully provincial news items ("This semester, Brian Shusterman will be studying in Chile!") that didn't even pique the interest of the subjects of the stories. I was on it about nine times. All of which is a very long way of saying that I'm not impressed that a story about Goldman is showing up on "News 12 - Goldman's Office." PornDaddy and Right Hand turn on a big plasma screen right behind Larry's desk to be met by the ubiquitous mug of one Tom Roam. It's a press conference. In front of the Midas Touch. Blah blah solve problems, fight crime, blah. The Midas Touch, like other establishments of its kind, "are magnets for violent criminals. They exploit women and encourage prostitution." What timing! Goldman turns off the television and laughs about being christened a "violent criminal," but Right Hand isn't quite so amused. He repeats, "This guy. THIS guy," all the while gesturing madly at a blank television screen set to the "off" switch. Nice directorial decision there, by the way. He keeps on to Goldman that if Roam wins reelection, they're kind of screwed. And, according to Mayor Prude's enforced morality, they'll be the only ones getting to be that way. But Goldman's got some tricks, as we've seen before, responding, "I think we should support the poor guy." Right Hand reminds him that Goldman's thought of this plan already, and that he's made charitable donations in the names of almost everyone they know. I don't remember why this was a good idea.
Because he is now an instantly transformed family man (which means he's in for it), Roam tells Sydney from Melrose that he can't meet with the mayor for his possible endorsement because he promised to go home and play basketball with his son. In other news, Adam has traded in his parents for immature dolts who like long walks on the beach and absolute fucking career suicide. The Velocity Of Darlene Smith (Not Her Real Name) sits in PornDaddy's office. She tells him that she's given the whole "porn lasts forever" congressional filibuster from last week some serious thought, but that she still wants someone to make her oven hot for a living. Poor Ron Silver looks like he's on the verge of mad sleep. But he's talented enough to make it look like forgetting Darlene's name is a character choice, rather than breaking and yelling "line!," which is what it seems like he wants to do. So PornDaddy instructs the again-present Johnny Wong to take Darlene down to the set the day, and then she can decide whether she really wants the job after that. Dude. Rent Boogie Nights. It's a totally accurate portrayal of the ins and outs (as it were) of the industry. And you'll never get "Sister Christian" out of your head again! Okay, good call. Skip Boogie Nights. And now, a purely mathematical approach to any troubled domestic relationship. Crunch the numbers today! (Father + Son) + One Game Of Basketball = Best Friends 4Eva Roams young and old dribble the ol' pigskin (whatever, I don't know) around the driveway, calling out jaunty taunts of the "This is so easy!" and the "I may be an old man but I can still kick your ass!" variety. But, oops! Adam suggests that they should get a camera to capture what a "dork" his father is, and Roam brainstorms that the campaign commercial he's just by coincidence shooting week should take place with the family playing basketball, rather than sitting on the couch. Adam feels like he's being used for just another photo op. Adam gets mad and rides off on his Huffy Bike, leaving Roam alone on the court to mutter "dammit." Maybe he should tell his son he's totally been banging some hot chick who used to be on Melrose Place. That's why I would say if I wanted to score some points. Adam chats across town with Jewel-iet The Time-Life Operator. Nice headset, Customer Service. Adam complains that he's nothing more than a photo op to his father. Jew-liet complains that her parents are making her go to some extremely well-timed plot contrivance something something. Adam says he doesn't want to be in the ad. Jew-liet tells him to do it. But why? "Don't not do it because of me," she tells him. "I don't want to be the reason you hate your dad." Adam promises that he has plenty of other reasons. Like that he's short. And mean. And on a crappy TV show.
Hey, the mayor of Los Angeles looks just like Ron Silver! I would say he looks like the evil version of Ron Silver, but Ron Silver often strongly resembles the evil Ron Silver. But this mayor guy! He's...Mayor Ron Silver! Good one, don't you think? Roam's office. Mayor Ron Silver bitches out Sydney from Melrose, telling her that she's "handicapped" Roam's campaign by making it entirely about the whole adult porny industry thing. Apparently, that was not such a good idea, exactly. Roam calls that "a load of crap," but Mayor Ron Silver just laughs in a really fey way and tut-tuts, "Tom, Tom, Tom" in a triplicate nomenclature construction that is usually reserved for the name "Judy" and spoken by fans of her in just as fey a way. Mayor Ron Silver says that Roam can't expect to put so many people on digging into Goldman "and have it remain your own private Idaho." And it's weird; I have about sixteen different cultural references for the term "your own private Idaho," and this doesn't match any of them. Because I've never seen the Gus Van Sant movie and I wouldn't like it anyway because it doesn't have the blond boy from Elephant in it, I'll go with the B-52's song of the almost-same name. But beware. I know all the words really, really well. Roam asks for a moment alone with Mayor Ron Silver, meaning buh-bye to Sydney from Melrose. Once the trifling women are excused from big man's duties, Mayor Ron Silver sits down across from Roam and gets right to it: "Want to know how Larry Goldman helped me win the last election?" Sure. "Two weeks before the vote, he enabled my opponent to disgrace himself. Publicly, Tom." Mayor Ron Silver adds that he's not totally against giving Roam his endorsement, but asks, "You have any skeletons in your closet? Because I guarantee you, if you do, Larry Goldman will find them." In case you're curious, this is the exact moment at which I found out that this show had been cancelled. Pardon me if this recap lasts for about another six words, most of which will probably be lengthy quotes from other B-52's songs I have enjoyed. And now, if you'll excuse me, for the first time in the history of my recapping career, I'm going to take a break, do the unthinkable, walk into my kitchen...and crack myself open a beer. I didn't even do that when Push, Nevada got cancelled. I'm drinkin' on the job! With lime! What's that on your head? A wig! What's that on your head?
A wig! I said what's that on your head? A wig! What's that on your head? A wig! Wig! Wig! Wig! Wig! Wig! Wig! Wig! Wig! up: "Girl From Ipanema Goes to Greenland." An underrated classic that helped coin the phrase "underrated classic." Download it today. Four million viewers. FOUR MILLION VIEWERS!!! For a primetime show. Promoted heavily during the World Series. On one of the Big Four. On a Monday night. When people are, kind of, home watching television. Four million viewers. Isn't that, like, how many people watch The Man Show? Gah! Mama Roam and Sydney from Melrose circle Roam like the buzzards of cancellation getting ready to descend on the rotting carcass of a once-promising and overly-hyped network series. Mama Roam wants to know why Roam couldn't tie down a solid endorsement from Mayor Ron Silver, and everyone hedges until Sydney from Melrose (soon to be known as "Sydney From Melrose Fan Conventions," now that she's once again seeking employment) takes the fall and says that Mayor Ron Silver got upset when Sydney from Melrose lost her temper in their meeting. Saying that it's unacceptable to lose one's temper, Mama Roam loses her temper. I've been meaning to tell you I think Mama Roam is kind of foxy. And ever more so when she's snarking on Sydney for losing her husband the election. Love shack baby, yeah. ["Djb, remember that time we were playing Cranium and I had to hum 'Love Shack' so that my teammates could guess it, which is pretty much impossible because the verses are just Fred Schneider talking, so I had to try to hum like Fred Schneider talks? That was awesome. By the way, I don't drink, but if I did, the news that I was going to be down 1 (one) TV series going into November sweeps would certainly merit a Corona or two. Cheers!" -- Wing Chun] Hotter again is the woman of the house when she's cashing in her five-cent bottle deposit for a whole damn six-pack of whup-ass. Mama Roam finds Adam in the room and tells him that getting all pissy and deciding not to appear in his father's campaign commercial isn't the way to "get back at him" for all's he's done blah blee. But Adam can't just stop at being a mad teenager, instead having to prove a larger existential point with his general rhetoric: "Why can't he just be a father?" Because he has a job, perhaps? That requires working? To get money? To pay for pretty things? And besides, he's got enough attention for one kid anyway. It's not like he went and had five kids and ignored them all. There are people in the world who can tell that their parents didn't want kids that badly, and are therefore often ignored by them while they're off, achieving other, often careerist, non-children-oriented goals. They're called "only children." Sorry. But it's true. Roam tells them both that Adam shouldn't have to do anything he doesn't want to. I love his absolute turnaround as a character. What a prince. Whereas before he was getting nothing but static on Channel Z, now he's gonna shoot that static down the drain, gonna put that static out of his brain.
Roam shoots the commercial with his loving wife sitting beside him. It's a very good commercial. Man, anyone can write this political shit. And, the cancer. The whole damn Goldman clan walks through an as-yet-unnamed hospital. An administrator of some seeming import introduces them to a cancer patient named Jean. For some reason, PornMommy takes the opportunity to volunteer that her own mother was hospitalized for breast cancer a year and a half ago. Oooh, don't tell her the ending. Oooh, an attack of conscience on an already very, very, VERY good man! Goldman takes a look down a hallways and espies a patient much sicker than stupid old almost-healthy Jean. A sassy woman needs help into her wheelchair, and once she's seated and resting comfortably, she volleys, "You don't look like you have breast cancer." PornDaddy tells her that they're there because they're thinking of donating money. She asks if they can afford it and, upon hearing the affirmative, speeches, "Then why hesitate? Good begets good. It's as simple as that." Thank you, Oracle! PornDaddy returns outside and tells them he's made his final decision on the donation. Eighty million dollars. Tin roof rusted. But lo! Just at this moment, a "Dr. Rose," who runs the program, approaches in hospital scrubs. Upon hearing their names, she spits, "If you're trying to buy respectability, you picked the wrong institution. My patients aren't for sale, Mrs. Goldman, and neither am I." And, she's gone. Mr. Administrator Guy is really upset, and PornMommy says they'll take their business elsewhere. You know what goes really well with beer? Another beer. Roam, Mama Roam, and Sydney from Melrose stand behind the commercial set from Roam's living room and strategize how to bring Mayor Ron Silver on board. Mama Roam lets loose with the plot point that there's a "Latino Law Enforcement Conference" this Friday night, and that Mayor Ron Silver has to shore up his support with Latin voters. So they decide to offer him a keynote address, in exchange for an endorsement for Roam. And then they say it. And then they say it again. I can't believe how much Chinese food I just ate. ["Hey, Djb: let's go crash that party down in Normaltown tonight!" -- Wing Chun] Well, here's a subplot that will never, ever, ever go anywhere, ever. So, who do you think Darlene was? A spy for Quordon? An underage mole from Roam? A forum troll? I think she's Kate Pierson. We join her in progress, walking onto the set of a big dirty porno taking place in a hospital. No one's got the cancer. But most people have got the breasts.
Dinner by pitch blackness at Roam House. Papa Roam is explaining to his impressionable son why this election will be so much more difficult to win than the last one (my guess: he wins!), but is interrupted by a caller telling Mrs. Roam that Mayor Ron Silver has accepted the keynote address at the Latin thingy party thingy. Now all they need, Mama Roam says, is someone to introduce Roam's speech. Adam volunteers, because six minutes ago he didn't want to be in the campaign commercial and in six more minutes he won't be on TV anymore. This is nothing more than purgatory on the way to somewhere else. Back in his bedroom, Adam calls Jewel (whatever, who needs a nickname?) and tells her that he has to give this speech. But wait, there's more! He tells her to meet him at the hotel. They could get a room. They could "hang out, order room service, whatever." Jewel responds that "whatever sounds nice." Sex. She means sex. The Roam parents wash dishes and pat themselves on the back in a congratulatory fashion about their suddenly-emergent parenting skills. Shut up and get a dishwasher. But Roam cops to there being other tension in the house besides that with Adam. Roam says that he needs to address it, and Mama Roam rather tellingly asks him where he wants to begin, pausing for a moment and following up, "Well, when you figure it out, why don't you let me know." I think what happens is that they both get eaten by flesh-eating robots. God, I love "Choose Your Own Adventure" recaps. The End. Sigh. Sydney from Melrose is about to be on the receiving end of some really bad news. Roam takes her into his office and tells her, "I can't continue living a lie." He's not leaving his wife. Sydney from Melrose begins to hyperventilate, telling Roam in hushed tones that "the election is only twelve weeks away." So he says to her...WAIT, TWELVE WEEKS? We would've had another twelve weeks of campaigning? Where does that take us to, May sweeps? That is ludicrous. Oh, man. I vote down Proposition That. When I can vote again. In twelve weeks. Roam tells Sydney from Melrose that he owes it to his marriage to try and make it work. Um...rock lobster? Adam and Jewel talk about talking about how they're talking about how they're going to see each other. Adam promises they won't get caught. And it's true. They won't. ["Then they'll go skinny-dipping in the moonlight." -- Wing Chun] A guy who looks like a much, much, much less adorable version of Josh Malina (it's the glasses, really) is on his way out when Darlene Fake Smith comes in and plants herself on PornDaddy's couch. She tells him that her set visit was kind of fine -- that she found people "surprisingly normal, only they're having sex." She tells him that his movies are "beautiful," and that exploitation isn't taking off your clothes for money; it's working thirty-five hours as a waitress and making $190: "All I want is a chance." Well, it's a bit of a crowded marketplace on this show, but PornDaddy tells her he can make her dreams come true with "a few lines in a girl-girl scene." Reckless driving on dirty back road.
Roam and Sydney from Melrose stand in an office with the blinds open (but we're outside the office because the director is Fellini and we get it. He asks her if she'll be able "to handle this," and she tells him, "I'm not sure." He reaches out to give her solace, and she pulls off an exquisite "Please don't touch me." Find someone to say that to once in your life. The liberation will be like nothing you've ever experienced. He closes the blinds and strongly suggests that she resign. She snarks a line at him about what a liar he was to her, and then stomps out with the line "Excuse me. I have to go raise money for your campaign." Because something big is going to happen with that that's never going to be explained, ever. Yoo no wut goze reelly wel with too beerz? Tree! Why are those two wearing so much yellow? PornDaddy and PornMommy debate whether they should give so much money to an organization so ungrateful, and PornDaddy tells us that from the moment he walked into that hospital, he thought of PornMommy's mother. PornNana, or something. PornDaddy still thinks they should go through with it, and PornMommy concurs, saying, "You better scare the hell out of her." PornDaddy turns the tables: "I'll charm, you scare." Awww. I feel really bad for these two actors right now. And here I was, thinking that I was supposed to be without pity. The Big Night. Roam works the room and Adam follows behind. In a conference room back at Roam's office, Sydney from Melrose takes the money of the Josh Malina guy from earlier. Too late, plot. You can thicken all you want, but you'll just end up collapsing in the oven anyway. Now shut up and say I make your oven hot. Jewel tells her maid that she's having second thoughts and that she can't lie to her parents. But Spanish Maid tells her, "It's not a lie. It's love." Josh Malina guy goes back to Right Hand, apparently having closed the circle on whatever scam they were undertaking. Adam calls the ever-later Jewel, looking forlorn. At dinner with Dr. Rose, the PornParents tell that castrating bitch of a lesbian to just step off and take their $80 million. Outside the hotel catering hall, Mama Roam gives Adam a new speech and then sends him out to make it. Adam steps onto the podium as Jewel enters the hall. She walks across the floor in a fancy white virginal-again dress. Jewel walks inside in time to see Adam say a bunch of really nice things about the man who is trying to put her father in jail. She's conflicted! Because love is not easy! Up at the podium, Adam tells the crowd, "He really wants to keep us safe." He introduces Roam in, I guess, Latin.
Oh, my god. The O.C. is doing repeats on Thursday night. I can start watching The O.C. again. Adam Brody, I'm a-comin' home to you. Jewel freaks out and runs out of the big-ass banquet hall. She's sad because Adam is the son of a man who wants to put her father in prison. Yep. Didn't know that yet. Back inside, Mayor Ron Silver takes a call from Right Hand learning that Sydney from Melrose took a donation, which I'm guessing is no good. Dr. Rose tells The PornParents that she'll accept the money, but only if they'll be anonymous donors. She understands that the donation has personal significance, but makes them promise that there will be no publicity, no press release, no name on the building. Nothing. Hearing this, Dr. Rose relents and tells them to come over with a publicist, family, friends, etc. Ooooooh. I get it. She leaves the table, The PornParents sitting alone for the last time. Ron Silver pops a green bean and lets fly: "I kinda like her." Heh. Oh, and "bye." Mayor Ron Silver makes a speech in which he does not endorse Roam: "Vote for your conscience," he tells them. "Vote for the best candidate, but by all means, voten." What's with the "n" at the end? Is that a Latin word? They spill into the hallways afterward, Mayor Ron Silver saying that he could not endorse Roam because he's about to get some bad news. But he strides off without another word, leaving Tom to scream after him, "What do you know that I don't?" Something we shall never know, small fry. Adam and Jewel walk on the roof to look down at the roof where they first met. Well, we've come full circle, haven't we? He tells her again that he loves her, and she tells him that she loves him too, but that she loves her father as well: "Every time I look at you, I see you in jail." She kisses him, cries, and leaves. The PornParents sleep. Roam paces. Jewel lies awake. Adam paces, finally leaving his shirt where it most definitely belongs. Off. Stay tuned for scenes from week. Yeah. RIGHT.