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Trey says he's innocent and that he only took the fall for Marissa as a favor; Sandy promises to defend him against the drug charges. Marissa and Ryan decide it's time to take the law into their own hands, so she cozies up to the X-popping Jessica and gets herself led straight to the real dealer. Somehow, Jessica herself gets off scot-free. Okay. Anyway, Ryan and Marissa rope Sandy into helping them trap the dealer. When Marissa has him cornered and Ryan shows up to throw a few punches, the cops, Sandy, and the D.A. show up -- driving down the beach, no less -- to arrest the guy, and all charges against Trey are dropped like trousers. Ryan and Marissa celebrate by making out and making plans to have sex (presumably) in the pool house, while Trey fetes the day of his freedom by entering his apartment and seeing sultry Jessica inside. She slobbers all over him again, and he's very willing to pop her pill, if you know what I mean; the ending shows a darker hue to Trey, and I couldn't tell if the show was hinting at him being slightly less innocent than he claimed.
At the same time, Seth and Zach go into a "notes session" for The Fastest-Developing Graphic Novel In The World, and are subsequently invited to a party pimping it to advertisers and some such. Zach suggests that Seth bring Summer to draw her into the project, so he does, albeit by tricking her into it (off-camera, of course) because he can't just flat-out tell her how important this is to him. She of course spends the whole night pouting, because she can't shut up and be supportive for an hour, nor can she rise above her boyfriend's idiocy; finally she insists that they leave, right when everyone is kissing Seth's ass. Seth naturally resists this, upset by her impatience. So she asks Zach for a lift, and somehow he was leaving anyway, despite the fact that the party is still going and he is allegedly half of this partnership. Summer goes with him as Zach shoots what could almost be construed as a triumphant glance at Seth. That dog. Maybe.
Elsewhere, Eighthead Erin is not returning Carter's calls, thwarting his plan to take her as the fourth on a wine-country "research" weekend with Kirsten and Sandy. The shenanigans with Trey lead Sandy to pull out as well, but he convinces Kirsten to go, and she can't resist. She and Carter get too drunk to drive home and hang out in a nice suite, where she almost takes a shower and he looks hot in a robe, and she -- with effort -- bites back any statements of lust in favor of securing them an immediate ride back home. There is some regret in the air between them. Finally, Caleb tells Julie he wants a divorce, so she goes to Lance with fleeting thoughts of offing her husband. But instead she pays him to leave town, then plants one on his lips as a farewell. Someone photographs it. When she arrives home, she sheds tears of mourning in front of Caleb that seem to be genuine, so he announces he still has feelings for her and takes her out to dinner instead of proceeding with the divorce discussion -- so, a stay of execution for Julie, but who knows for how long. Oh, and that whole Death Cab For Cutie thing? They barely play, and Seth misses it, making it an incredibly pointless cameo. Feh. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Last time on The O.C.: Sandy tried to get Carter laid by a girl named Erin; Seth lied about Reed's sex and Summer found out; Trey hooked up with a girl who took drugs and passed out in Marissa's pool; he then decided that chivalry was not only dead, but genetic, and took the fall for Marissa when the cops busted her party.
The episode begins in the Cohen kitchen. There, the excitement is tangible: Seth pours himself a bowl of cereal, and Ryan drinks coffee. But you know, I suspect neither of them really means it. They're both thinking about how they can quickly rehash what happened last week, but make it sound like a normal conversation. "Hey," Seth begins, sitting down to Ryan and patting him. "You can't blame yourself. All you did was give Trey a chance, and you believed in him. Whatever he did at Marissa's party is on him." Ryan frets that the problem is, he doesn't actually think Trey did it: "He's a lot of things, but I don't think he's a drug dealer." Seth, ever mindful of his mandate in this scene, helpfully reminds us that Trey confessed to the crime. Ryan suspects that was a ploy to protect Marissa, and the reason he knows this is because he was about to do exactly the same thing. "The compulsive need to rescue Marissa Cooper," sighs Seth. "Must be in the Atwood DNA." Which means that if Marissa gets herself pregnant by an Atwood, she'll have herself an army of unusually self-sacrificing stooges. Seth says with very sweet faith that if Trey really is innocent, then Sandy will make it all go away.
Sandy overhears this last comment, having just arrived home with Trey, and intones that he isn't so sure he can fix this. Ryan and Trey make some meaningful eye contact, until Ryan runs up and gives his brother a supportive cuddle. Trey is relieved that Ryan isn't mad. "Why would I be mad?" Ryan says. "You didn't do it, right?" Way to attach a condition to your unwavering support, there, Ryan. Trey swears he didn't do it and reasserts that it was all for Marissa. Everything is for Marissa, selfless angel of mercy, hapless victim, and friend to all. The Canonization of Coop is proceeding on schedule. "If gallantry and/or stupidity were defenses to felony dealing charges, you'd be a free man," Sandy notes wearily. He dispatches Trey -- who is temporarily in Sandy's custody -- to the poolhouse to get settled, because apparently Atwoods aren't Main House people. Sandy levels them with the news that Trey is facing some major prison time, and goes to make some phone calls, leaving Ryan and Seth alone to scheme. "We have to do something," says Ryan, figuring if it's true that men with big noses also have big...hands...then he can certainly fit the law inside his grasp. "Okay, but the buddy-cop thing, that's just a metaphor," Seth sputters. "We're not actually supposed to solve crimes." Yet Ryan decides that finding the real culprit is the best way to help, and Seth realizes he's talking about a hot high-school sting operation: "That would be very 21 Jump Street of you." "Whatever it takes," Ryan avers. "Okay, I get to be Richard Grieco," Seth announces. We smash to the credits.
Kirsten arrives at work while gabbing with Sandy on the phone. Sandy pretends to ask Kirsten's permission to stow Trey in the Poolhouse of Pity, but she knows full well that Trey is already there, and no amount of wine she chugs before lunch will change that. Kirsten says she'll break it to Carter that she and Sandy can't join him in Santa Barbara that weekend. "God, I totally forgot about that -- the wine-tasting weekend at Featherbrook," Sandy exposits awkwardly. He tells her to go ahead, but she says that Carter can handle the vineyard story on his own. I certainly hope so, considering that Kirsten has no editorial experience whatsoever. "I don't think he's planning on going by himself," Sandy twinkles. "He told me he's thinking of asking Erin." Kirsten freezes. "All the more reason to stay home," winces Kirsten. "I wouldn't want to be a third wheel." Carter pops up and silently asks Kirsten if she wants some coffee. She holds up her cup and smiles. Is this supposed to be dripping with their personal chemistry? If I had to pick one, I'd say Carter is more in love with Sandy. (Those eyebrows are like pheromones. They could turn anything gay. I hear the tweezers on-set weep constantly at the fact that they must adore them from afar.)
Julie starts another day by skipping into Marissa's room in a jolly mood. Marissa awaits a reprimand, helpfully pointing out to her mother that she had a rager that turned into a drug bust, which most parents wouldn't appreciate. Julie shrugs that these things happen. "Plus, if I punished you, I'd have to tell Caleb about it, wouldn't I?" she adds with a grin. I am so confused by how information seemingly does not get around this town. For one thing, Caleb has peeps. For another, the papers would have been all over Julie's porno scandal, and they would have been even more all over a drug bust and near-fatality at a high-school party in a rich 'hood. The fact that there is not only a link between the two things, but that Marissa's house is also that of her legally troubled, powerful stepfather would be triply appealing to any reporter. Are all the other journalists in Newport dead? I wonder how Carter Buckley, Aggressive Seeker of Truth, feels about having to sit on all this because he works for Mrs. Cooper-Nichol.
Julie changes the subject to Caleb's impending return: "I'm planning a welcome-home celebration for him [tonight]. Don't worry -- party for two." Marissa is thoroughly aghast at the idea of Caleb's aged genitals wearing a party hat. "The personal sacrifices I have to make in order to keep a roof over our heads are nobody's business but my own," Julie says. I don't feel that sorry for her now that Viagra has been invented -- at least that removes the painstaking and hideously unpleasant process of having to prop up his wrinkled wang with popsicle sticks before mounting it. The New Marissa that the show is eager for us to adore does nothing but look amusingly queasy, and offer to stay at Summer's so that there's no risk of a slip-up; the old Marissa would've probably called Julie a dried-up money-grubbing whore, and then blackmailed her to ensure silence. And as much as I think Julie is the show's real heroine (like Miss Hannigan in Annie), I think I miss the old Marissa.
Summer looks disconsolate as she stares at her coffee. Try as she might, she can't turn it into an instrument of character development or resuscitation. Zach plops down to her. "Where's Cohen?" he asks. "Wouldn't know. I'm avoiding him," she sniffs. Zach presses, so she rants that Seth deliberately let her think Reed was a man, rather than a cute girl who loves comics and is obsessed with Seth's work. Okay, but really, Summer, is the issue that he lied, or that you feel threatened? Because if Reed decided to try to bed Seth, she would be the stupidest shitclown ever to walk the jailbait tightrope. Summer complains that Seth is morphing into "a subdolous egomaniac," and as she explains that her Word of the Day calendar defines it as "sneaky, underhanded, not to be trusted," Zach shoots her an amused little smile, as if she is his own successful Afterschool Special about the stupid girl who, against all odds, is learning to love syllables.
Seth parks himself in the chair across from Summer, holding what looks like a pink daisy. He coos that he keeps the rest in a vase at his house, and every morning, he will carry one to school in the hope that he'll be able to give it to her so that he can continue apologizing. Then, he kisses the flower beseechingly and hands it to Summer. "That's actually kind of sweet," she melts grudgingly. The show very specifically uses this moment to cut to Zach, who tenses his jaw and looks away. Zach, she's cute, but come ON. You are young. Go bang one of the other twelve thousand girls at that high school whose emotional baggage doesn't have puppy-dog eyes. Seth then proffers a ticket to Death Cab for Cutie's concert at the Bait Shop that night. Zach interrupts to tell Seth that Reed read their first draft of the comic and loved it. (I just want to know when, precisely, Seth started and finished a complete draft. Most self-respecting teen dramas would have put him on some sort of stimulant to try and get through the workload, which Donna Martin would then find out about and try to help him kick. But no. I'm not sure what the point of this storyline is, if not to have it present multi-layered problems for more than just one triangle of characters.) Summer hopefully wonders whether Reed's approval means the graphic-novel ordeal is over, because she insists on being totally ignorant. Zach breaks the news that Reed has some notes: "It's the publisher's way of showing their creative investment." He says that they have to do it that night at Reed's place, because she's been so nice about working around their academic schedules. Well, that's what Reed gets for figuratively climbing in bed with high-schoolers who live in Newport Beach. Seth wants to reschedule, but Zach tells him that he can't, and somehow Seth believes this instead of trying to talk to Reed himself. He turns to Summer and apologetically wonders if they could meet up after the notes session: "I hear they play long sets..." Summer smacks him with the flower. "Whatever, Mr. Subdolous," she snarls, stomping off in a fit of pique. Zach beams that Seth should pitch that villain idea to Reed. Then he scampers away.
Marissa and Ryan walk together at school. I'm so happy she was never put on any kind of academic probation after missing weeks and weeks of classes. It must be nice to be such a genius. Marissa sighs that Trey should have let her get arrested, because it might be easier for Sandy to help her. She hasn't read the memo that only Atwoods are afforded that dubious privilege. Ryan -- despite having already confessed to being about to do the same thing Trey did -- now disses his brother by sighing, "Thinking before speaking is not his strong suit." He then hisses that he wants to find out who did it. Marissa points to the only extra she recognizes from the table read and announces that he, Kyle Thompson, is a likely candidate. Ryan doesn't know him. "He's a senior," says Marissa. "Water polo player. You don't run in the same circles. But everyone says he's the guy to go to." Ryan sees our victim from last week, now in excellent health, flounce toward Kyle. He observes that "floater girl" seems to know him. "Who, Jess Sathers?" Marissa asks. No, Marissa, the other girl who ended up unconscious in your pool. She says she didn't even know that Jess was at her party until she showed up almost dead. "You know her?" Ryan asks. "Used to," Marissa says evasively. The captions claim that Marissa says, "She's a senior, too," but the line was omitted from the actual show. Ryan wants Marissa to probe for info; Marissa agrees, then utters an impossibly sunny "Hey, Jess!" as Jess passes her. "Hey," Jess says, looking at Marissa like she's lost her marbles down a well. Of madness.
Kirsten sees Carter hanging up the phone and notices that he looks grim. Carter tells her that Erin ignored all his calls, and eventually responded to his Santa Barbara invitation by telling him they shouldn't see each other. "Did she say why?" Kirsten asks, wondering if Erin blew Kirsten's cover while deciding not to blow Carter. "No, nothing," Carter sighs. "I thought we hit it off well at your dinner party. I even rented a '65 Mustang convertible for the drive up." Well. Few women would appreciate that on a long drive. Those things are hair hazards. He offers to carpool with Kirsten and Sandy, so Kirsten breaks it to him that they're not going, either. "Family emergency -- Ryan's brother needs legal help," and so Kirsten has to stay in town just in case something needs...you know, building, or publishing. "You can't peel away for an afternoon?" he begs. Kirsten wishes she could go, but unfortunately, her chastity belt has been malfunctioning, so she'd better stay home. "I hate drinking alone," laments Carter. "Well, I hate drinking wine alone." Kirsten laughs that she does, too. They are both big, boozy liars. Carter promises to pick up some wine for her and Sandy. "Have a great weekend," Kirsten manages, before Carter leaves the room and she can drop the façade and think about all the wine she needs to drink by herself to cope with all this.
Marissa sees Jess at her locker, and bites her lip before walking up to her. "I wanted to say how totally sorry I am for what happened," Marissa begins. "That was your house?" Jess says, uninterested. She's fine, though, and writes it off to being just another war story. I'm not sure how she has avoided being interrogated in all this -- wouldn't the cops ASK her who gave her the drugs? She is clearly alive and able to talk. Are all the cops in this town out smoking crack with all the journalists? Marissa invokes her party-girl past to try to create a bond, and then confesses that she "doesn't know anyone anymore," and wants a hookup. "A chance to party with the legendary Marissa Cooper?" asks Jess, intrigued. Some legend. They arrange to meet at the Death Cab concert, with Jess uttering all the typical parlance ("I might know someone") before slinking off down the hallway and mauling Kyle. Within two seconds Ryan pops up at Marissa's side. "It's on," Marissa says. "I think you're right," Ryan allegedly says, but it sounds like all he says is, "Bite," because he mumbles.
Cohen Kitchen. Kirsten honors Trey's return to the Poolhouse of Pity by inviting him to pick the dinner he wants to eat. Nothing like a home-cooked meal -- and I mean that quite seriously, because this is nothing like a home-cooked meal, because she hands him a pile of delivery menus. "They're all Thai menus," Trey notices. Seth chips in, "I'm convinced somewhere in our heritage, a Cohen bagged himself some Asian action." Kirsten scolds him, because she is his mother and feels she has to, but she doesn't know what else to say to him since she hasn't uttered three things to Seth since weeping over his joyous return to Newport. Ergo, she just lets her mouth hang open for a little while. Seth advises Trey to get shrimp pad thai (he's wrong, Trey -- chicken pad thai, and hold the bean sprouts), and then announces that he'll need to scarf some leftovers. Kirsten shakes herself out of a coma long enough to ask what Seth has to do; he replies that he has a notes session in Silver Lake. Note here that Kirsten says NOTHING about this, including any kind of loving parental concern about her kid driving to L.A. for God knows how long, to take notes from God knows whom. This show missed a really good opportunity for some organic Cohen conflict, both in Seth's development of the comic book, and in Sandy and Kirsten's potentially different ideas about how this kind of commitment would affect his schoolwork, and consequently, whether it's wise. It sounds mundane, but I think this show could handle conflicts like that really well, and make them interesting. But primarily, if a comic-book story must be told, why rush Seth through it? In almost no time, he's got a publisher and a first draft. There are so many more layers to be mined. If the show insists on taking this tack, it should at least commit to it, rather than buzz through it like some sort of demented showbiz drive-by. Anyway, yada yada, Seth will be gone for a while. "Ryan, delay Death Cab as long as you can," Seth instructs. Ryan nods, aware that the pressure is on both to find a local auction and then move it to the Bait Shop, so that Death Cab can twiddle their thumbs while he and Marissa hilariously sell Molly Ringwald's pink panties, and Goose's mustache shavings from Top Gun.
Sandy strolls into the kitchen and gives Kirsten a peck. He reveals that he hasn't spoken to the district attorney yet, but he knows who it is -- Tom McGinty, a conservative family man with eight kids, six of whom are girls. Kirsten optimistically suggests that maybe being a family man will make McGinty more sympathetic to a kid like Trey. Kirsten is silly. Even Jeffrey Dahmer and O.J. had families. Doesn't make them any less mental. Sandy agrees with me, pointing out that a man with six daughters isn't going to love the idea of going easy on a kid who might sell drugs at their school. "I'm not a drug dealer," Trey insists, indignant. "Oh, I know that," Sandy says tiredly. "But he doesn't." Trey realizes he's more screwed than a lightbulb. Sandy promises to start working on his defense that very night.
Up in Silver Lake -- which, for the unfamiliar, is a hip, funky area of Los Angeles -- Zach and Seth plop down on the steps of Reed's pool deck. "We're looking forward to your thoughts and concerns," Zach says politely. A generic go-getter type starts nattering away at them about his concerns about the "universality" of Atomic County, and how the kids in the heartland just might not get this world, because we all know Middle America doesn't have booze, short skirts, pretty people, or libidos. I think Josh Schwartz is giving us a peek at some of his pitch sessions. Seth is floored by this, figuring that the whole O.C. world is a crucial backdrop for the strip. Reed blinks and looks old. I don't know; that's what my notes said. She did. It happened. Zach smoothly promises that they'll "take a look" at changing the location or making it more relatable to their landlocked readers. Reed smiles serenely. I thought these were her notes. Damon then natters on about Cosmo Girl and how it might be a better idea if she got her powers from some kind of sports drink instead of a magic flask, because "Legal is worried about lawsuits from the parents of teen alcoholics." Hee. I'm bored of the meta on this show, but I have to laugh at any time somebody skewers idiotic network types, so go Schwartz go. Reed nods sagely as Damon delivers the final blow: The Ironist is too cerebral a character. Seth can't believe what he's hearing: "Is he being ironic?"
Damon's cell phone rings to underscore how busy and important he is; while he leaves to take a call, Reed assures Seth that Damon is "a marketing genius" who is going to make Seth famous. "As what?" Seth gapes. "The worst comic-book author ever?" Heh. Reed promises that Damon is good, and says that "the party" was all Damon's idea. Zach seems to know what she's talking about, but this is the first Seth's heard of it, so Reed clarifies that Damon wants to throw a massive shindig the night to introduce Seth to everyone -- directors, musicians, and animators -- who will help to develop offshoot projects. It seems so incredibly premature for all of that, but whatever. Seth tries to beg off the party but Zach accepts for both of them. Reed condescendingly asks Seth to bring Little Miss Vixen. Zach is the Cheshire Cat by now. "Summer's going to kill me," moans Seth. "I say we walk now." But Zach thinks they've come too far. Seth then fires back with one piece of smart reasoning -- that the changes are idiotic -- and one piece of terrible logic, which is that he shouldn't keep going because it would take a year, and he and Summer would bust up by then. Seth, honey, priorities: either you want to be a comic author or you don't. If not, leave. If so, then stay the course. There will be other vaginas. Zach suggests bringing Summer to the party so that she'll feel more included in all this. It's actually not bad advice, except that, as ever, one can expect Seth to take good advice and befoul in some heretofore unheard-of way.
Sandy and Trey rehash the details of the party. Sandy mentions an eyewitness who can place Trey and Jess entering a room and closing the door. Trey admits that he and Jess "talked and stuff." Well, that's probably half-true. I'm sure Jess's mouth was open. Trey continues, "But the truth is, I thought we were going to go back to my place and hook up. thing I know, the cops have arrived and she's face down." Sandy asks if Trey saw Jess take the drugs, and Trey insists that he didn't, but figures she was pretty clearly on something. Then he recalls hearing that a guy was passing out pills, but he's not sure he'd recognize him, because all O.C. pretty-boys look the same to him. "Look," Trey says helplessly. "I just wanted to help Marissa out. Okay? Nobody's ever thrown me a birthday party, and I wasn't going to let her go to jail for it."
At the Bait Shop, Death Cab For Cutie has taken the stage, and the lead singer is whining about glove compartments being inaccurately named. Approximately twenty people are in attendance. If the show can't even fake like it cares about this cameo, then why should I? Summer bemoans Seth's missing his favorite band: "It's one thing blowing me off, but blowing off Death Cab? This comic book has totally broken him." Or maybe you have, Summer. Just a thought. Marissa doesn't give a damn, because she's scanning the crowd for Jess. "Why are you looking for that coke whore?" Summer asks lightly. Hee. This is how I like Summer. Marissa flinches. "What? She is," insists Summer. Then she narrows her eyes and demands to know whether Marissa is doing coke. I'm sure they had to do one hundred and thirty-seven takes of this scene because of some accidental, instinctive "LEAVE ME AND BRANDON ALONE!" answers from Mischa. She tries to explain herself as Pop-Up Ryan does his thing, appearing behind them to announce that he's going to do a lap around the bar.
Julie arranges herself on her bed, rose petals delicately strewn around her. She's wearing a zebra-print nightie, which is so much more prudish than the world expects from Julie Cooper. Even Caleb would probably be like, "I know I hate you, but come ON, you're not sixty." She fluffs her hair and calls Caleb upstairs. "Welcome home, sailor," she purrs when he arrives. "What's all this?" he asks coldly. It's a Tupperware party, Caleb. Try the salad spinner. "What does it look like?" Julie asks. "It looks like one of your movies," he sneers. Caleb has no foresight. He should have dissed her after he had hot sex with a hot woman. Julie shrivels up inside -- you can see it in her body language -- and climbs off the bed, wrapping herself in a robe. Caleb informs her that he's spent "weeks" trying to get past her little incident, but that he can't. Julie pleadingly says she missed him, and had spent this time hoping he would miss her, too. "Cancel whatever spa treatment you had booked for tomorrow," Caleb says. "We need to have a serious discussion," after he confers with his lawyers. Julie glares at his back as he exits, and then shakes her head and puts a trembling hand to her tear ducts, trying to compose herself.
Back at Ye Olde Bait Shoppe, some band is on stage making noise. Summer gushes, "Where other than the Bait Shop are tickets plentiful, and the band never too loud to talk over?" And sentence structure convoluted? She can't believe Cohen is missing her clever little meta moment, and indeed the entire Death Clap For Cooties hoedown. Suddenly she spies Jess coming toward them. Marissa needs to say nothing except "Hey, Jess," but she already popped a brain cell trying to remember what band they're even there to see, and so blanks on what to say. She makes Summer initiate conversation. "Oh my God, Jess, remember me?" Summer gushes, hugging her and reminiscing about their old tap and jazz days. She then does a cute little tap move. Marissa has sufficiently recovered long enough to offer this clever rejoinder: "Don't mind my friend. She's really...really stoned." Summer shoots her a glare, then recovers a split-second later -- great timing by Rachel Bilson -- and drawls, "Tooootally. Very, very high. Isn't this place, like, so visual?" Jess looks like she's stepped in a pile of moron. Marissa wants her hookup, but Jess says her friend lost his stash last weekend, but is taking orders for a water polo team party the following night. She hands them a flyer of some kind, then turns to Summer. "How about you?" she asks, narrowing her eyes. "No, strictly ganja," Summer says. "What's from the earth is of the greatest worth." Hee! Jess rolls her eyes and leaves, and Marissa almost punches Summer. Well, that's what you get for having no smarts of your own. "I hope you know what you're doing," complains Summer.
Kirsten is stretched out on the bed in her pajamas when Sandy enters. "How is he?" she asks. "Scared and frustrated," Sandy replies. He is desperate to keep it from going to trial, but he knows McGinty won't make a deal. "That's because he only knows Trey on paper," Kirsten says. Memo to all aspiring criminals out there: be charismatic so that you leap off the page. Sandy brightens and kisses Kirsten for being a genius. How can he not see that Trey doesn't exist off the page? The kid has no interests that we know of, the thinnest sketch of a personality, a vacuous-looking pout, and some self-defense skills he learned IN PRISON. Good luck selling that package. Sandy gets up to get ready for bed, and makes casual conversation with Kirsten about her work. It turns out she's going through some notes for Carter to take with him to Santa Barbara, since she doesn't trust him both to drink wine and to do his job. Not a bad instinct. Sandy is surprised and dismayed to learn that Erin isn't into Carter, but he gets distracted by a brochure from the winery and decides that Kirsten shouldn't pass up a chance to see it. And since they're clearly living hand-to-mouth, it's obviously her only chance for a weekend getaway in wine country. Although if Sandy doesn't start taking cases for people who will actually pay him, maybe that will soon be the case. Kirsten limply insists she should stay, but as soon as Sandy swears that there's nothing she can do, Kirsten concedes that maybe she can go and be out of there in time for a home-cooked meal of Thai curry and spring rolls. Sandy is pleased; Kirsten beams.
Dead Cat With Scabies is moaning about the sound of settling, which is an apt description of this cameo. We pan across to approximately five people enjoying the music, and then to Ryan, who is trying to sniff out a suspect. (Sorry. I couldn't resist.) He sidles up to Kyle and booms that, wow, the place is packed. Which it is -- packed with elbow room. Kyle glares at Ryan suspiciously, which could have to do with his reputation, but might also have something to do with the sudden bouffant shape Ryan's hair has taken. Ryan prattles about the crazy party from last weekend, but Kyle is distracted and basically walks away mid-yap. Ryan turns around and, in a brilliant covert move, stares right at Kyle as he and a friend speak urgently to each other and then escape upstairs. Having been introduced to Subtlety one night at a party and thought it seemed a little snobby, Ryan chooses to bolt after them immediately. But he bumps into Seth, who enters just as Darth Crème de Cassis finishes playing the last song. "I cannot believe I missed Death Cab," Seth whines. "Just kill me. Shoot me in the face. Speaking of which, is Summer around? I need your help..." He trails off when he realizes that Ryan is not, in fact, wall-eyed, but actively staring at somebody else. Seth turns around completely, at which point Ryan spins him back around so as not to blow the brilliant cover he has set up, wherein he stands in the open and gazes openly at Kyle. "Are you on a bust right now?" Seth whispers. Ryan orders Seth to stay out of it. Kyle suddenly bolts, and The Hardly Boys give chase, but by the time they get outside, Kyle and his friend have disappeared. Ryan lets out an angry sigh, because even though he had no real, helpful purpose in doing any of that, he tried so hard to pretend that he did. Seth snaps into action: "Well, they're not that way, 'cause that's the ocean. So..." And we cut hard to black, which was a great decision, and a funny one. I like Seth when the plot isn't his.
Sandy stalks D.A. Tom McGinty to a burger joint, and tells Trey to sit tight and watch. Sandy strolls over and says, "Big Mac!" McGinty looks up and squints at Sandy. "Beetle Brows," he says. No, actually he just introduces himself, and Sandy does likewise and explains that he's been trying to reach him about the terrible, no-good, very bad situation of one Trey Atwood. Big Mac looks around and spies a tall drink of Goldschlager lurking in a corner, and correctly deduces that Sandy is ambushing him. "I'm just hoping we can put together a deal," Sandy says. Big Mac snorts that Trey got caught dealing drugs on parole: "You know something I don't?" Sandy sighs and utters with tired sincerity, "Yeah. You got the wrong guy." Big Mac gleefully lists his assets: a confession, eyewitnesses, and a bag of ecstasy that matches Jess's tox screen. No one mentions any statement from Jess; I'm assuming somebody asked...? Pop-Up Trey -- proving that sudden appearances are also in the Atwood DNA -- shows up to Big Mac and suggests dusting the bag for fingerprints, because he never touched it and his prints wouldn't be on it. "You're right. No one's are," Big Mac says. "And who'd know that, except the guy who wiped the bag clean." That's not what he said, asshead -- he just said his fingerprints weren't on there. Nonetheless, Sandy tells Trey to shut his piehole, and offers up a deal wherein Trey gets two years of probation and 100 hours of community service. Big Mac laughs in Sandy's face, almost, and points out that the parole violation alone is worth another year in the slammer. "Not one of those kids [at the party] has so much as a traffic ticket, so without another suspect, no deal," he says. Doesn't he realize that the first suspect is always the wrong one? Does he not watch Murder, She Wrote? WAS JESSICA FLETCHER'S WORK ALL IN VAIN?
Kirsten and Carter arrive at the winery, where she turns it into a whinery by complaining about her "hair issues" from driving all that way in a convertible. Except her hair looks fine, so she's probably just cranky that "putting the top down" didn't refer to her shirt. Carter assures her that her hair looks great. They banter about who will get control of the radio on the way home, so that we see the color of Kirsten's hormones. As a vineyard spokesperson begins her spiel, Carter and Kirsten take glasses of Pinot Noir to taste. Kirsten peeks at Carter over the rim of her glass.
Night. Seth and Summer are walking toward a house, and we find out that Seth told her he was taking her to an apology dinner, and then went and drove her to Reed's house in Silver Lake -- or as Summer calls it, the "Make Me Even Madder party in Silver Hell." God, Seth's the stupidest character ever. Summer has been a really unsupportive girlfriend, but it's so hard to sympathize with Seth when he acts like a complete dicksmack. Like, WHO would do this? Who? Why can't Seth be written with a SHRED of common sense? He is impossible to root for as he is, and that sucks, because Summer's been a whiny, self-centered bitch about all this and he deserves some moral ground on which to stand. AAARGH. "I understand that you're here on false pretenses, but I was hoping once you got here, you'd try to make the best of it," Seth assfaces. Reed greets Seth with a typically sycophantic "man of the hour" announcement. She grabs him away from Summer and introduces him to a slew of people while Little Miss Now-Justifiably Pissy stands where she was, and glares. Almost as an afterthought, they introduce Zach, who appears to have driven himself separately. Reed shoots Summer a smooth smile and points out Little Miss Vixen, in the flesh. Then she and Zach grab Seth so that they can introduce him to Joe Sacho, some idol of Seth's. He turns and shoots a helpless glance at Summer. "Just go," she groans. Zach disentangles himself and walks up to Summer with a massive grin, offering to get her a drink.
Sandy slaves over paperwork, but hears a noise and looks up to see Ryan, Marissa, and Trey hovering over his desk. Marissa's tank top makes her boobs look like they are dropping like stones. Trey opens with a long and grateful speech, reminding us that nobody has ever been nice to him before, and he was just a little lost soul before Sandy Cohen and the Poolhouse of Pity. Sandy smells defeatism here; he should smell butter, which is being slathered all over him right now so that he will agree to whatever scheme that the Scoobies 2.0 have concocted. Ryan reveals that they know who Jess's dealer is. "We're gonna need proof," Sandy says. Ryan knows. The Nose knows, and it is a-plottin'.
Mermaid Inn. Lance answers the door to Julie, who is wearing a shirt that might be identical to one that my esteemed friend Jessica owns. And may I say that Jessica rocks the shirt harder, which is really saying something when you consider how totally bitchin' Melinda Clarke is. Lance offers her a whiskey. Julie reveals that Caleb has been conferring with his attorneys, and will doubtless lower the divorce boom that night: "Me and my girls are out on the street with nothing." For him to put Kaitlin out, she'd have to be in, wouldn't she? Lance figures her pre-nup should help, but Julie snorts that she's fairly sure shagging for a living back in the day might nullify that document. Lance has clearly put a lot of thought into offing Caleb, and suggests that he replace Caleb's heart meds with something a little more dangerous -- perhaps while Julie's away, so that she has an alibi. Then Caleb would kick off, Julie would inherit everything, and maybe she'd be free to ride Lance a lot. Julie realizes he's serious, and responds by whipping out her checkbook. "You don't gotta pay me to kill your husband," he says generously. Julie is all, Dumb-ass, I'm not, I'm paying you to get the hell out of town. "I'm not a murderer. Neither are you," she says flatly, handing him a check. As she leaves, she reaches out to him and plants a goodbye peck on his lips. Someone snaps photos of this.
Carter and Kirsten are hammered. He drools that they should use spit-buckets at fast-food chains, so that people can get all the enjoyment without any calories. And all the bulimia without any of the esophageal damage. Carter has just turned "Do you spit or swallow?" into a question about eating disorders. But Kirsten finds this hilariously dark, because everything he does and says is funny and charming, see? She wonders out loud how many wines they tasted, and Carter checks his notes, only to find out that he's so drunk that he stopped taking notes. Kirsten is such a good chaperone. She slurs that maybe they should fire themselves for drinking on the job. "Drinking was the job!" he proclaims. I want that job. "And I did my job well, 'cause I'm hammered," Carter hiccups. They quickly ascertain, through giggles, that neither one of them can drive, because they're drunk on Merlust and putting the "hard-on" in "Chardonnay." Kirsten defends her intoxicated state with a wild hand gesture designed to help explain that she drank as much but is half Carter's size; naturally, this knocks red wine onto his shirt. An employee comes over to help them, and Carter asks her if they can get a ride home. "Are you local?" she asks. "No, Orange County, actually," he says. "Oh, I'm sorry," she winces. Ha! Love it. She isn't sure they can get a driver, but she's fairly confident she can set them up in a guest suite. Carter brightens at the idea of expensing this. Kirsten stares at him for a second too long, and then laughs gingerly that they don't seem to have a choice; when he returns to his wine, she gazes at him with nervous interest, because she'll be drunk in a hotel room with a man who isn't her husband, and well, Que Syrah, Syrah, right, Kiki?
Sandy and Trey sit in a car parked outside the water-polo party. Already, this sting operation reeks. Peter Gallagher looks like he wants to die. Marissa waltzes up to the front door, Ryan in tow; she gets in, but Ryan gets rejected. "Meet me around the side of the house," she mutters through the corner of her mouth, and then disappears into the party. Ryan spends far too long staring at her, and then walks away. We cut to black wondering how the hell finding a high-school drug dealer is going to prove that Trey wasn't the one with the X at a completely separate time and place. It's not like Jess could only have gotten it directly from the dealer -- maybe Trey bought it and gave it to her. I guess it's like the mob: let the little guy go if he can lead you right to the source? I don't know. My head hurts.
, we get our quota of Scantily Clad Young People Grinding Against Each Other. There are lots of breasts and stomachs, not so many faces. Just the way FOX likes it. Marissa wanders around the party looking completely awkward, like she's never been to one before. With incredibly obvious nervous and shifty facial expressions, she magically finds a side door she somehow knew existed, and opens it to let in Ryan, who also somehow managed to find exactly the same side entrance without being hassled by any of the hired security. "This really is the dark side," Ryan says, even though it looks exactly like Marissa's party, but without the open-air aspect. Marissa sneaks around to hide Ryan so that Kyle won't see him, and of course, this forces them to stand in close proximity so that they can think about the physics of how to make out without any bumping and blinding. Jess suddenly floats into frame, so Pop-Up Ryan does the reverse. "Oh my God, you came?" Jess burbles. "You look beautiful." Marissa notes Jess's obvious good mood. "Candy flipping," Jess beams. "Ecstasy and shroooms. Good for the body and the mind!" Kids, take note. Marissa badly fakes her way through some enthusiasm and follows Jess. Pop-Up Ryan bursts back into the shot and follows them with all the subtlety of a meat cleaver to the face.
Caleb sits on the couch in the dark. Julie arrives home and flicks on the light just as he booms, "Where have you been?" She jumps. He's pissed that she skipped out on their tender legal confab. "I'm here now. Let's talk," she says. He crudely asks if she wants to shower first, clearly implying that she's been out sexing up the town. He totally knows she was with Lance. I think the photographer was on Caleb's payroll. Not that it takes a genius to suss that out; I'm just getting ready for the other shoe to drop. Julie inhales sharply and levels him: "You may not believe this, but I put everything I had into this marriage. I wanted it to work just as much as you did." Caleb huffs that it's not bloody likely, considering how much he hates failure. I'm so happy Caleb is back, just because I will always love Alan Dale from back when he was Jim Robinson on Neighbours, and Kylie Minogue played his daughter-in-law. I watched him every day after school at 5:35. It was so great when the trailer she lived in blew up, and yet the week, she was wearing all the same clothes she had before. Good times. Julie chokes up and asks Caleb to cut to the chase, please. Caleb frowns and wipes away her tears. "Those real tears?" he asks. "No one's more surprised than me," she admits ruefully. Great line, great delivery. Her voice breaks. Caleb becomes all-business again, and in the most stiff tone ever, says, "All right, then, we'll give it one more chance. Standing here, I realize I still have feelings for you. I owe it to both of us to explore that." Oh, he is SO keeping those photos for later use. Julie is floored. Caleb tells her to put on something nice so that he can take her to dinner, and then walks away and wears a very dark expression indeed as he moves toward the camera and out of frame. Julie stares after him, thankful that at least a wrinkled penis can be construed as ribbed for her pleasure, but by Mother Nature herself.
In the hotel suite, Carter is wearing an undershirt while Kirsten lamely tries running tapwater on his stained shirt. She decides that it's ruined, which is silly, because she has tried neither club soda, nor OxyClean. Get with the times, Kiki. "Let's drink to its demise!" Carter says grandly. "That defeats the purpose of sobering up," she says, forgetting to sound drunk. Pause. Eye contact. Then: "I should call Sandy." Carter is all, Ooookay, and then decides to take a shower because he reeks of wine. He takes off his shirt as he passes around behind her and goes into the bathroom, and Kirsten is literally gaping at the wall, panting slightly.
Trey confesses to Sandy that he was going to flee town that night. Sandy reminds him that criminal charges tend to dog you, so you have to deal with them head-on rather than run. "That's what Ryan said," Trey admits. "He's a smart kid," Sandy says affectionately. Yes, we know. Sandy's phone rings; it's Kirsten, who explains that she and Carter are too pissed off their trees to drive home that night. He tells her to drive back in the morning: "It's not worth dying over. I don't want either of you behind the wheel if you've been drinking. I love you," he says, and then just hangs up. Just like that. Without even giving her a chance to sign off, he just closes his phone. I hate people. Trey pointedly says that he doesn't know many people who'd be okay with their wives spending the night with another man, much less suggesting the idea. Sandy volleys back, "How many men you know have been married for twenty years?" Ah, Sandy, you're falling prey to false invincibility.
For her part, Kirsten looks distraught, and like she doesn't trust herself. When she answers a knock at the door, the same winery employee tells her that they've found a car to take Kirsten and Carter home, and Kirsten hedges. Finally, rather than agree, she takes a card with the driver's number on it. Then she looks sad, because all this temptation is really hard on a girl.
At Reed's pretentious party, Damon is boring everyone to tears by talking about cross-promotion for Atomic County, like, with fast-food chains and NASCAR. Some peon suggests body sprays, one for each character. And what does The Ironist smell like, exactly? Does angst have an odor? Can you bottle the clammy sweat of a nerdy teen? Someone barfs up the phrase "multimedia franchise," and Seth is overwhelmed with the idea of a videogame, an online presence, and maybe -- gasp! -- a TV show. Summer chooses this moment to grab Seth's shoulder angrily, but he waves her off to hear more about Damon's pitch of making it a hybrid of animation and live-action. Except then it would be Lizzie McGuire, so...try again, asswig.
Summer really doesn't want to wait around for more of this, so she roughly pulls Seth aside and announces that she wants to leave. He stupidly asks, "Why, are you not having fun?" Summer whines, "No, I'm not. These people are annoying." Here, Zach wanders into frame so that the viewer sees him standing directly between them, watching with a smile. Very discreet. "They think they're so smart and cool, with their messy hair and their dirty clothes that they bought that way! They play retro board games and they drink wine for fun! EW!" Summer rants. Hee. Reed, who has heard this whole thing -- along with all the other dirty, messy-coiffed wine freaks -- stands up and drives a nail in the coffin by offering up a toast to Seth and all those real-life people who inspire him. "God save us all," snorts somebody. Summer bristles, turns on her heel, and leaves. Seth chases her, unable to understand why she's mad, and mentioning quite validly that she didn't even try to make it a fun evening: "They asked you like five times to join the conversation." Summer ignores him and asks Zach for a ride home. Zach, somehow, can get away with leaving the party at Summer's bidding, and nobody seems to care. He officially contributes nothing. "Zach, what are you doing?" Seth asks, confused. "Goodbye, Cohen," Summer says, exiting. Zach throws Seth one more smile with a distinct air of triumph to it, and follows her. Well, good for him for growing a spine. And yet, what is the draw for Zach of a dysfunctional girl who's obsessed with another guy and already dumped you once for him? Man. And people say girls have issues. Sheesh. Reed's mob swarms Seth and starts trilling about how they're going to play board games. "We're going to the board room," Reed actually says as Damon purrs, "I smell a tie-in." Oh my God, just watching this is making me suicidal. Grow a sack, Seth. Be the bigger person.
Carter wanders into the suite in a bathrobe and plops down to Kirsten, who is looking at Carter like she wants to lick him from head to toe, because she's still buzzed on Sinfandel. Carter notes that there are fuzzy slippers and another terrycloth adultery-shroud hanging in the bathroom, if she wants to shower. He looks at her, she looks at him, she opens her mouth, and breathes, "Carter..." More silence; then she blurts, "I need to go home." He sighs, which...he's Sandy's friend now, so do we actually think he expected Kirsten to hook up with him? Or that he would make a move in the first place? She's giving off some vibes, but only if you know her, which he doesn't really at this stage. Whatever. Carter nods slowly and, after a second, goes to get dressed.
At the party, Marissa stares out the window at Jess and Kyle; and Pop-Up Ryan appears behind her. This is, naturally, a dumb thing to do, because seconds later he has to flee so that Marissa can talk to Jess. She hands Marissa a bunch of stuff and says, "Take one at a time, and drink tons of water. And stay away from the GHB on this...Trust me." Are you writing this down, folks? Shrooms, ecstasy, one at a time, water, bake until done. Marissa gets out eighty bucks for payment; Jess smiles that Marissa gets a discount because Kyle thinks she's cute and wants an introduction. Apparently, the right to meet Marissa costs twenty dollars. And since we all know "meet" means "rub with his meat," that makes her a pretty cheap date. Poor New Marissa. As she follows Jess outside, Ryan calls Sandy. "Reinforcements are on their way," Sandy promises.
Jess drags Marissa out to Kyle, who is standing on the beach. Apparently, his house is built on it. Jess kisses him and then leaves. Marissa bumbles through an aural thank-you note for the score, and explains that she "kind of" has a boyfriend. "I kind of don't care," Kyle huffs, getting right up in her grill. Pop-Up Ryan is suddenly right there to them, defending Marissa's honor, because Trey robbed him of his chance to be self-sacrificing last week. "Get out of here, bitch, this is a private party," Kyle says. I would care more if I'd ever seen or heard of Kyle before. Or Jess. They hear sirens in the distance, and Kyle turns to see a police truck cruising up the beach. I'M SO SURE. Kyle screams at Ryan for being a narc, and punches him. Ryan fights back and pins him, but when D.A. Tom McGinty gets out of one truck, Kyle breaks free and runs in the other direction -- toward a second Baywatch truck, and Trey opens the door right into him, knocking him straight to the ground. It's actually hilarious -- Kyle goes down like a rocket -- so it's a shame it's part of such a dumb plot. I mean, when did Trey and Sandy have time to get out of their car and into a police car? And did the D.A. just sit around all night in a nearby cop truck, hoping for a bust? Should he have been so involved in exonerating a kid he's supposed to be prosecuting? The hell? Even better, everyone asks Trey if Kyle is the guy he saw at Marissa's party. I repeat: everyone asks the current suspect if the new suspect is the real culprit, and when he says yes, they accept that. I'm baffled. The cops search Kyle and find some drugs. Kyle screams that it was planted evidence, because he didn't get the memo that he's not supposed to dig any new plot holes. As they cuff him, they rip off his mask to reveal a withered old man who is screaming, "I would've gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for you meddling kids!" Scoobies II: Atwood Boogaloo look smug. McGinty promises Sandy that he will dismiss the charges against Trey immediately, despite the fact that whether or not Kyle has drugs on him now has NOTHING to do with whether Trey had any involvement in Jess's accident. I guess it must just be that they think Kyle's a bigger fish, so he'll do the time regardless of whether he did the other crime. Gah.
Sandy, for some reason, leaves with McGinty, Maybe he wants to go defend Kyle and actually pull in a paycheck for once. Ryan and Marissa take Trey home in Sandy's car -- but before they do, Trey calls out to Sandy. When Sandy turns, Trey just looks at him. Sandy looks back. Are they in lust, too, then? Because these are exactly the same looks Kirsten and Carter swap, and we're supposed to believe that they want to jump each other's bones.
Ryan drops off Trey, who thanks his brother. "Marissa deserves the credit," Ryan says. The Canonization of Coop is complete. Marissa generously says they can all call it even, and Trey goes inside, leaving her and Ryan to sit in the car and gaze at each other with gooey eyes. They realize that this is the first time they've been alone together on-camera in a long time, and after some awkward "what now" banter, they slowly lean in and start to make out. Suddenly, Marissa pulls away. "Ryan, wait...we've waited a really long time for this," she begins. "You want to stop?" he asks, disbelievingly. No, douche, she wants to make sure you recline the seats and park under a streetlight before you have sex. Marissa smiles and says shyly that she thinks they can do better than the front seat of Sandy's car. "I know a guy who has a poolhouse to himself," Ryan suggests. "Think he'll let us borrow it?" she asks. "Oh yeah," Ryan growls. Off they go. Although...really? They're going to do it for the first time completely off-camera? That's kind of a fuck-you to the fans.
Meanwhile, Trey has opened a beer, and suddenly he sees Jess standing in his room. "What are you doing here?" he asks. She figures he knows. "Breaking and entering," he points out. "How do you know I'm not working with the cops?" Jess shrugs that her grapevine is very reliable, so she knows the convict story was true. She sidles up to him and says she can't figure out why he didn't turn her in, as well as Kyle, since she was basically also dealing and she got him/Marissa into trouble. "The cops were only looking for one guy. And I figured you'd had a rough enough week as it was," he husks. "And besides...I like talking to you." Jess all but licks her lips and agrees, noting that with Kyle out of the picture, they might just have a lot more to talk about, no? "You interested?" she asks. Trey stares at her, heavy-lidded. "I’m definitely interested," he says. We smash to black unsure whether they're talking about sex, or taking over the drug trade, or what.