Philadelphia: East Avenue

Props to the absent Deborah, whose hard work I never fully appreciated until I counted the number of times in this recap that I found myself struggling for a word other than "thingy."

MPDP is standing in what looks like a park and emphatically does not look like a soccer field. She is, however, wearing a soccer jersey, which says "REACH" right on her left breast. I don't think that instruction is meant to be taken literally. I think she wouldn't like it if you did that. I do prefer this shirt to most of her hopelessly cutesy clothes, though, especially the ones that are cut down to the bottom of her rib cage. She explains the premise of the show, in case you're unfamiliar, and she launches us into what is going to be a truly nightmarish hour of soccer puns. She says we will "get a kick" out of the episode. And she kicks the soccer ball she's been holding. She loves the puns, that nutty MPDP. What a lovable scamp. Don't you want to just poke her with something sharp?

MPDP goes on to explain that all of the homeowners today are members of The Charge, Philadelphia's women's professional soccer team. The "heady" Jen and Erica will be facing off against "footloose" Karyn and Mary-Frances. Thank you, I did not actually order any more puns, since my closet is full to overflowing as it is, just from watching this show every week. In fact, I would like to return some of the ones that have been delivered previously. Nevertheless, MPDP's line involves "scoring" in the rooms and needing an "assist" and getting a "charge" from the designers who have been "drafted." And it goes on. And on. Just as I'm getting ready to claim some kind of finger injury and call in sick from writing this recap, we cut to Hildi and Frank, cavorting in a field somewhere. Ew, not like that. Well, sort of like that, actually, since she is on top of him, bouncing up and down. She's on his back, though, and I think they're playing horsey. EW, NOT LIKE THAT! Frank and Hildi are then seen kicking a soccer ball around (that would be the soccer ball of Yes, Yes, I Get It, They're Soccer Players) with Amy Wynn. Frank and Hildi look like the kids who were picked last for kickball at Unathletic Dweeb Camp, whereas Amy Wynn looks right at home in her football jersey, and unsurprisingly has no trouble dribbling the ball past Hildi and Frank. Incidentally, I am so happy that Amy Wynn is the carpenter, because otherwise I would be forced to detail my feelings on the topic of Ty, and there is nothing I find more shameful than detailing my feelings on the topic of Ty. Yes. Yes, I know. But try to remember, people like me are human beings, and with your help, we will one day be cured. It will not help to ostracize us and cut us off from society.

Karyn and Mary-Frances's family room looks like the third day of occupancy in any one-bedroom apartment. It's quite a small room to begin with, and all the walls are white and unadorned. There's an ugly L-shaped sectional sofa, which appears to be partially covered in bedsheets, one of which is sort of maroon and one of which is an unattractive blue print. That probably means that either a lot of things have been spilled on this couch, or the stuffing is coming out of it. Mary-Frances and Karyn explain that there are five teammates who live in the house, and that the family room is their main gathering place. They say that everyone watches TV there, but that the TV is pretty small. They've got it up on a shelf in what looks to me like a very small closet with the door ripped off, although it isn't deep enough to have ever been a closet, so I suppose it's a "feature." The "feature" does come with some very fakey-looking decorative corner trim at the top so that it doesn't look quite so much like an abandoned closet. There's a black metal glass-topped rectangular coffee table that sits on a red rug with white, Laugh-In-style white squiggles on it. Surprisingly, Karyn seems to think the rug is the best thing in the room. I guess it is better than the white walls and the sheet-covered couch. Oh, and the room has a ceiling fan. White. Probably doomed. Anyway, Mary-Frances and Karyn are looking for "bright" colors, which they then change to "bold" colors. Sadly, I would interpret that as wanting a good strong color, but not bright yellow. They opine that Jen and Erica will probably do whatever they feel like doing, with little concern for what Karyn and Mary-Frances would want, and they promise to do the same in return. Yay! Malicious decorating!

Jen and Erica's house, MPDP explains, is the "unofficial headquarters" of the team. Clearly, there's a little more to it than there is to the rookie house. They hold big gatherings there before games and that sort of thing. Their living room is actually a lovely deep red color with white crown molding and a good-looking hardwood floor. It looks like the problem is mostly a lack of appropriate furniture and accessories, rather than anything wrong with the basic look of the room. They have a couple of incredibly bare-bones wood-framed couches (not literally futons, I don't think, but if you think about the feel of futons, you'll be in the neighborhood), a little TV stand, and not much else. They say they'd like more seating, and that they (rightfully) hate their couches. If you listen closely, you can actually hear their couches screaming, "I belong to someone who is in college! I will be discarded as soon as there is a regular income! I am not comfortable, but I was cheap!" You have to really listen, though.

Karyn juggles a soccer ball on her knee as MPDP does the key swap. Man, I always hate the key swap. I mean, I realize it's traditional, but it's honestly so stupid. All it does is create dead space that will inevitably be filled with puns. Shut up, M-Pun-D-Pun.

Over at Karyn and Mary-Frances's little family room, Hildi is drawing on the wall, which is not a good sign. She's also displaying a little more upper-butt/lower-back than I really need to see, in her low-rise black pants and her red-and-white stripey sailor shirt. Oh, that nautical, whimsical Hildi. What will she torpedo and sink to the bottom of the ocean ? (See? I can make stupid punny references also. I just choose not to. For the good of mankind.) When Jen and Erica get there, Hildi asks them what they want to do to the room. "Everything," they say. They are, of course, about to find out that when they say "everything," they don't literally mean everything. Hildi explains that the open wall she was scribbling on will be "the focus of [the] room." The wall cringes in fear. "I don't want to be the focus!" it wails. "Make that stupid closet-thing be the focus." But there is to be no mercy for the wall. Hildi goes on to explain that there's nothing in the room that's staying except the TV (bye bye, couch, coffee table, and rug), and that she has "several special finds" for the room. Heh. I love the part where Hildi makes vaguely ominous threats like that. She also says she's turning that little TV nook or whatever it is into a "party area." I think that may be a bit of an exaggeration, considering that thing is about three feet wide. "Party area" may be pushing it, unless you're talking about an extremely small party. Or a kitten's birthday party or something. They clear the room, inspired by the wacky music. I find the room-clearing segment very funny, because it's pretty much just dragging out the pieces of that couch. It's strange, but almost every time I see one of those giant couches, it's in a small room like that. My friend The Professor has had one for years (which goes by the name "the monster couch"), and it has really only recently moved into a living room large enough to hold it.

At Jen and Erica's, Frank has crawled partway into their dog kennel. No, I don't know why, either. As he inspects the water dish or whatever it is he's doing, MPDP notes in a voice-over that he's missing a box of crap he shipped from home to use in the room. (She doesn't actually say "crap," but I'm thinking it's a pretty safe guess.) When the team enters, Frank says he's trying to plan something nice for the dog. He also inquires about the women's nicknames, and they explain that Mary-Frances goes by "MF," and Karyn goes by what sounds to me like "K-Hole," but which I now think, after inspecting the team's web site and discovering that her last name is "Hall," must be "K-Hall." That's sort of a good thing, because I would think "K-Hole" -- or, actually, any nickname ending with "hole" -- would be rather difficult to carry around with you. Karyn and Mary-Frances ask Frank what they should call him, and Frank says, "Sir." They pretend to be impressed and cowed by the jolly man in the long shorts and sandals. He asks what they want to do in the room, and they correctly point out that some of the furniture truly sucks like a Hoover, especially the big basket-y Papasan-y ugly chair, an assessment with which Frank agrees. They also think that the room could use some "design on the walls." What a horribly dangerous thing to say, MF! MF specifically says, as Jen and Erica did during their interview, that she really likes the existing wall color. She just wants some kind of...I don't know, actually, what she means by "design on the wall," but it sounds very Frankish, honestly, so she may get her way. I am beginning to think there is no denying it: Mary-Frances is a slave to the whimsy.

Frank goes into his "I'm seeing sleek, contemporary, and clean!" thing. And you know when Frank sees "sleek" and "contemporary," something is seriously amiss. He goes on to say (and wave his arms to emphasize) that he sees "a contemporary piece of art" for the "enclosed fireplace," which I guess is what you call that protrusion in the wall that used to be a fireplace and isn't anymore. Oh, no! Frank "sees" a contemporary piece of art? I don't know about you, but when Frank "sees" art, I "see" that thing he did with pipes in the House of the Deceased Electrician. He also claims to see upholstered furniture and tables. Oh, and "accessories everywhere." Not that this conflicts at all with "sleek, contemporary, and clean." This entire little Frank sequence is really interpretive dance as much as it is the passing along of information. Room-clearing ensues. It's odd, seeing this room emptied out, because it's really a rather smart-looking room, even including the oddball textured ceiling. I'm not sure I love all the white trim, but other than that, it's a much prettier "before" room than they usually start out with on this show.

Hildi brings paint in to show it to Team Red, which is working on taping the walls. The team explains that they have placed bets on the paint color. Hildi says that one can is for the ceiling and one wall, and the other is for the other three walls. As it turns out, the ceiling and the Focus Wall Of Pain are to be painted white, and the other walls are all getting a bright, bright yellow. Hmm. I am not a yellow-living-room fan. Yellow in kitchens I think is fine, but yellow in living rooms always makes me feel like I'm living in a school bus.

Meanwhile at the Frank house, Frank is painting bright purple onto the nice red wall. Eek. It's one of those purples that manages to be both gaudy and dull at the same time. Purple, to me, is the only color that can do that. It also looks atrocious to my eye up against that burgundy. Say what you will about the color wheel, but when I look at those colors, they fight with each other like old ladies at Bingo night. Furthermore, I really don't understand why Frank needed to paint the walls. Everyone liked the color, and it was a good color, and it's not like he's going from dark to light or light to dark. This seems like wall-painting for the sake of wall-painting, and it seems a little ill-advised. Frank promises MF and Karyn that it will dry darker. Ah, yes. The "check's in the mail" of Trading Spaces: "It will dry darker than it looks."

Commercials. I think bumper guy got the week off, because the bumper to commercials is the Charge flag flapping, and the bumper back is game footage. Whatever. I want wacky and overproduced hijinks!

Hildi explains that she's turning the closet/alcove/recessed-shelf-thing into a bar. However, it sounds to me like her entire plan is to take out the twee little corner trim (which will certainly be an improvement, since it's not like they're fooling anyone into thinking it's a gazebo) and put in glass shelves. I'm not sure how that makes it a bar, but of course, I'm not a designer. Of course, Hildi also says she bought them some "bar glasses," although she then changes it to "champagne glasses," and I'm not sure how much these particular women need champagne glasses, nor do I think the addition of glasses makes a shelf into a bar. But I'm going with the flow at this point, because I know it's going to get so much worse. In the grand scheme of Hildi's crimes against humanity, this will obviously have to be classified as a petty misdemeanor in order to leave room for the felonies to come.