Twin Peaks TV Show - "Windom's Angels" just doesn't have the same ring to it - Twin Peaks Photos & Videos, Twin Peaks Reviews & Twin Peaks Recaps | TWoP

Recapped by Djb · Aired 02-15-1991

The lucky seventh grade president of his middle school's audio-visual squad clearly tapped to direct this episode -- equipped only with a network budget of several hundred thousand dollars and a copy of the Twin Peaks new director primer's guide, The Path to the Hack Lodge -- has cleverly decided to open this episode with -- no, really -- a really slow panning shot across a chess board. It's a clear directorial homage to the episode and the one before that and the one before that and, if memory serves correctly (which it very well may not, seeing as my current pace of churning out new Twin Peaks recaps coincides with the approximate frequency of a stray dodo wandering through my apartment), the episode before that. Whoever has been circulating the apocryphal memo that lingering shots of shameless Parker Brothers product-placement is somehow "grand" or "regal" should be immediately reassigned to the production staff of the Civil War Commemorative Chess Set infomercial and never be allowed on the Lynch/Frost lot ever, ever again. Pan of chess. Pan of chess. Pan of chess. Pan of chess. Pan of chess. Full frontal nudity! Just kidding. More pan of chess. Couldn't it at least be a life or death game of Twister?

As we finally reach the other end of the board and come upon the white mask Cooper found in his bed last week, the tape-recorded message of "An Ill" Windom "Blows" Earl kicks up, all sinister, "Now Dale, listen carefully. It's your move. Please. Put your heart into it, will you?" He rambles on about Cooper's tentativeness in making his move, "as if your mind were occupied with issues other than those on the board before you, and such preoccupation not only weakens one's resolve, but one's foresight as well, a deadly failing in any match, you must agree, but in this particular contest quite disastrous, as we play for grave stakes the likes of which you have no doubt surmised." Yeesh. Shut up, Long-Winded Earl. I didn't mean to quote that entire filibuster, but it just kept going and going and going. I swear, the man's sentence structure and syntax are more muddled that…well, than mine, even. I know. Go figure. There's a new sheriff in town.

Our Pawn Shop Pan of Inanimate Junk (chess board, mask, tape recorder, this plot thread) finally a thing of TV history, we pan up to discover Dale "Milton" Cooper and Harry "Bradley" Truman, sitting in Harry's office on opposite sides of the chess board. Earl urges Cooper via the tape recorder, "Print your move in tomorrow's paper, or I shall make it for you," and Diane clicks off. Harry takes a meaningful swig of Vaguest-Thematic-Link-To-The-Show's-Glory-Days Brand Coffee and drawls, "Cooper, I'm not letting you out of my sight." Cooper responds that if Windom wanted him dead he'd already be dead, and Harry nods a little insultingly at this perceived common knowledge ("I guess you really are dumber than him") before hopping to action at Cooper's suggestion to "get Pete on the horn." Truman intercoms out to Lucy to track down the deadline for posting a personal in the paper and also tells her to get Pete out to the police station. Lucy shoots back, "Paper and Pete. Got it. I'll do it alphabetically." Hee. I'm sorry, was that a little effortless quirkiness we just got from Lucy? Who called in the first season karma? But things don't stay blissfully unmaudlin for long, as The Somber Strings Of Wifely Deadness kick up anew and Truman stares down at the "Tragedy Tomorrow, Tragedy Tonight" mask on the table and notes, "She was beautiful." Er, Truman? That's just a mask. That's not her. Looks like someone needs a stronger cup of Vaguest-Thematic-Link-To-The-Show's-Glory-Days Brand Coffee, perhaps. Vaguest-Thematic-Link-To-The-Show's-Glory-Days Brand Coffee. It's the best part of waking up.

Continuity? Flaunted like the Twin Peals universe would collapse without it (well, it would. And will. Soon)? Maybe I've misjudged this episode thus far. Over at the Packard's, Pete is actually on the phone with Lucy, just as she should be, telling her to tell Harry that he'll be right over. But first, Pete has to serve breakfast, and he carries two plates to the table. He places one in front of Katherine and the other he hands to Andrew Packard, who commences in screaming with delight when he looks down at the plate. Because we too are angry and cynical viewers of the characters in this room and the actions they dare undertake, we adopt Katherine's P.O.V. and don't see the source of their hilarity until Andrew picks the plate up and shows it to her gleefully. Pete has taken the considerable time and effort necessary to transform the lavish breakfast into a human face, the two fried eggs acting as the eyes, a blackberry nose, a mouth of bacon, and ears of toast. Andrew thinks it's the funniest thing he's seen in the niche comedy genre known as "breakfast food facial hijinks" since he had to be carted out of a Denny's on a hospital stretcher, short of breath but still just able to pant merrily, "It's called Moons Over My Hammy! Now that's A-list material!" Katherine is superlatively angry, apparently of the belief that breakfast foods are not to be taunted, and rolls her eyes extravagantly. She's not gonna love it in an instant. She barks at Pete to go fetch her the salt and pepper, and flips on her Arbitrary Sardonic Response Generator JavaScript in telling Andrew that he and Pete "bring out the worst in each other," responding to Andrew's claim that Pete is "a prince of a man" with the hissing, "a court jester." Don't mess with Katherine. She's got a droll quip for every line, no matter how cliché and non sequitur. She's like the Magic 8-Ball of bad moods. The eeny-meeny of random sniping. Well, you get the picture. It just seems a shame to me that after such a successful stint as Driven Bitch back at the beginning of the show, her dialogue has descended into a string of bitchly one-liners like some pissed off Teddy Ruxpin with a Satan complex. I'm just sayin'. Pete excuses himself from the house (because, continuity!) and Katherine and Andrew get down to the evil scheming: "What's happening with Ghostwood?" Andrew vamps some really general corporate talk about "investors" and "meetings" while Joan Chen is running blithely around town celebrating the arrival of the Supercuts chain in the Pacific Northwest (her hair has gotten remarkably shorter and whoever took care of shearing duties gets no tip); she walks in the door carrying a bundle of sticks so she'll have something to drop when she lays on Andrew, who smiles broadly and reports, "I'm home! Didja miss me?" Josie drops the sticks and faints. Andrew laughs hysterically. The things one can do with eggs!

Back in Truman's office, Harry leafs through the latest copy of The Overly Literal Press (the paper that announced something about an "Asian Man Killed!!!" a few weeks ago), which this time too clearly elucidates, "No Clues to Killer" with the same photo of Jonathan above it. The other story on the page trumpets the hard news that "City Board Issue Nears Approval," which I guess means that the sidebar noting "Maddeningly Fake Newspaper Made On Commodore 64's Print Shop Companion Expected To Pass Without Comment" was moved to the front page where it so rightfully belongs. There's a knock on the door and Hawk accompanies Hank "Lam Chops" Jennings inside. Hank is on crutches, and he hobbles in to ask just what the big deal of his breaking parole is. Truman has a series of unambiguous responses, none of which I would have been able to conjure on my own volition. Go, Harry! Here are some now. "You crossed the border into Canada. You consorted with drug dealers at Dead Dog Farm. You tried to kill somebody." He did? He did II: Guilty Boogaloo? He did III: The Wrath of Yawn? I don't remember much of any of that. Harry plays lawman: "I'm charging you with the attempted murder of Leo Johnson." Hank doesn't seem so concerned, producing the alibi that he was at the diner the night of the non-murder, but Truman retorts that an eyewitness put him at the crime scene with a gun. Unflinching, Hank notes that Truman "seems serious about this," so he offers up a compromise by which he will give Truman "information leading to the arrest and conviction of Andrew Packard's murderer." Harry borrows Katherine's cliché generator, responding to Hank's plea for a deal with such scintillating dialogue as "No deals" and "You're through, Hank." But Hank's still got one more incompletely-thematically-developed six-spotted domino up his sleeve, as he threatens Harry that he should be more interested in gathering information on dead rich guy Andrew than not dead felon Leo, seeing as he possesses the information of "who pushed the button on Andrew," and that Harry "is sleeping with her." Is that a crime? Oh, wait. She's twelve. It is. Hawk kicks the crutches out from underneath Hank's, er, armpit, and he pitches forward onto Truman's desk. I'm going to go ahead and guess that this took place before police brutality became the polarizing political issue it is today. I don't think the good guys are allowed to do that anymore. Truman gruffly insists that Hawk "get 'em outta here," and also would like for Hawk to "GET 'EM OUTTA HERE!" The Overly Literal Press carries the story: "Truman to Hawk about Hank: Get 'em Outta Here."

Albert "Team, Interrupted" Rosenfield listens to the sad, minor strings on the soundtrack and somberly complies. He holds up two small plastic bags containing bullets and informs Cooper, "This is the bullet we removed from you. This is the one that was excavated from the dead man's skull. Same bullet, same gun, same killer. Let's go get her." Cooper suggests that Albert "hold [his] horses," and, realizing his task of helping the viewing audience ignore a cliché that hadn't been written in dialogue form since this show was airing on the Plangea Television Network before the continental drift hundreds of thousands of years ago, Albert kicks in with the Albertesque wordplay and asserts his opinion: "Coop, I appreciate any reluctance you might have for busting your pal's old lady, but the woman ventilated you and left you for dead." Heh. "Ventilated." Cooper wants to "talk to her" and "see if she'll confess," and Albert snipes that "maybe she'll grow wings and join the circus" because the unlikely concept of "monkeys flying out of butts" had just minutes before been patented by another network, leaving the final line of this scene without the stinging early 90s bite it might otherwise have possessed.

Great Northern. Audrey makes her way through the lobby in a strikingly Jackie O. pink Chanel number of some kind, approaching a uniformed Great Northern employee and letting him know, "Randy, I've got a list of all our non-repeat guests. We're gonna send them a special invitation to the Great Northern." Who's Randy? What's going on? This Randy character retorts all sarcastically, "Your enthusiasm brings a salty tear to the eye." Oh, burn. Audrey is taken aback, but This Randy keeps right on digging, "I think you will find that my job requires a little more than a tight sweater and a perky attitude." Yeah, it also requires a Sally Struthers certificate in hotel/motel management, a body type to fit whatever size of natty, red polyester jacket that happens to be available, and -- and pay attention to this one, Randy -- a healthy dose of knowing just how not to piss off the boss's daughter. What is the matter with this man? Okay, so not the point. Audrey tells him that she's just learning the business and plot develops, "Every week a different department." He snarks something else about anticipating her stint in housekeeping, hands her an envelope that came for her this morning, and takes off. What a fiercely prideful concierge! They just don't make them like that anymore. Audrey sits down at the desk and undertakes pinning on a nametag, a task apparently addressed on the first day of Hotel School right after learning the part where you answer the phone saying, "Great Northern, your name speaking. Only you don't actually say the words 'your name,' you say, y'know, your actual name." She's unable to conquer the nametag issue. Fighting the good fight, she barely even notices the approaching presence of Billy "Titanic" Zane, who steps up to the desk and informs her, "I've just checked into Room 215." Note to concierge: nerve gas instead of water in the shower for Room 215. This guy. Oof. Having watched him fight through Titanic as a one-dimensional villain with all the nuanced shades of the white spy in the "Spy Vs. Spy" series, it's even sadder to see him swoop in here and unseat Cooper as Audrey's sudden love interest. She stops fumbling with the pin just long enough to look up at him and fall in love. He reads her nametag and asks if she could arrange for someone to come out to the airport and pick up some of his "heavy equipment" and, well, ew. She asks what flight he was on, and upon finding out he owns his own plane she refers to him as "Mr. Rockefeller." He thanks her and tells her, "I have a picture of you." Eh? "You're wearing a little dirndl skirt, you've got a white apron on, you have pigtails. It's unbelievably cute." Er, interested in sharing that private photo collection with the authorities, are you, you dirty old bastard? Zane slips away. The mysterious stranger. Sheathed in mystery and money and intrigue and salacious pictures of underage girls. Audrey rips open the envelope That Randy left for her and reads a handwritten note out loud: "Save the one you love. Please attend a gathering of angels, tonight at the Roadhouse. 9:30." Oh, the multitasking. Dunno, Randy. Seems like she's doing all right to me so far.

Hurley house. Nadine interrupts Ed in the process of legitimizing the presence of those awful, awful figurines, entering the room looking very dour. He asks what she's doing home from school, and as the Twin Peaks theme song plays all ironically, Nadine tells Ed they have to talk. "Mike and I are in love." Apparently, on the wrestling trip they had "the most magical night together." Ed pointlessly asks, "All night?" Ed's incredulous stare is misinterpreted as utter despair, and Nadine plays the infidelity card, retorting, "Well, you and Norma did it." She tells him that they "have to call a spade a spade. We're breaking up." She apologizes and hugs him, Ed wondering why he was unable to find those words at any point in the last twenty years and wondering after the stamina of a high school boy's continuing ability to nightly collect Nadine's pirate booty, if you know what I mean and I think you do.

Cooper sits with Josie in the Packard living room while Katherine eavesdrops through slats in a blind inches away from where they're sitting. She rehashes her story about escaping from Asian Man Killed in the Seattle airport, and Cooper tells her that he could arrest her right now, and that he only came "as a friend of Harry's." She tells him to leave, but Cooper insists that "this is the end of it. There are no other options." Cooper tells her to be at the station at nine o'clock, I guess meaning tomorrow, and leaves. Katherine smarms in exactly no seconds later and wonders where Cooper's gone, quickly turning the topic to Josie's deteriorating state, noting, "Dear, you look awful." She also relays the news that Eckhardt wants to see Josie by herself tonight. Josie says he'll kill her and asks for Katherine's help, telling her, "I think I'm going mad." Katherine tells her to "tell him the truth," and changes her advice to "tell him whatever you want. Just pray that he believes you." Katherine then removes a book from a nearby shelf and pulls out a set of keys from behind it, exposing a silver pistol, which Josie takes in hand after Katherine leaves. Hey, don't point that thing at me. Actually, dear. I meant the haircut. And you take your time over by that bookshelf. You'll be needing some bonding time with it anyway. Say, Josie, you really do look lovely, standing there right to that large, wooden piece of furniture. One might even say that it becomes you. One might say that. As it were.

Back at the Great Northern, Ben's office is packed with the usual executive board of Bobby, Jerry, and Audrey, Ben is wearing a really tacky jumpsuit befitting a sixty-five year-old woman on her way to the early bird special at the Boca Raton Ponderosa. Who can eat a whole steak? It's only four o'clock in the afternoon! Oh, sorry. That jumpsuit really transported me. Ben gnaws away at a piece of celery because he's Danny DeVito at the Academy Awards. A knock on the door of the office reveals Zane In The Ass, who flashes his many extra rows of teeth at Ben as they hug like straight men (though in that jumpsuit, I'm gonna go ahead and reserve judgement for the moment) do. By way of facile character development, Ben dispenses with the subtle introduction and just screams out the new character's name: "John Justice Wheeler!" Introductions all around. Ben asks the four to sit down on the couch, and embarks on a speech about Wheeler's history with the Horne family: "Years ago, I made an investment in him. A pittance, which he built into an empire." Now, it seems, Ben needs some help from Wheeler, considering recent developments in the company, recapped thusly: "The mill, the Ghostwood lands, are now solely owned by Katherine Martell. We don't begrudge her. The land was -- and is, after all -- hers." But, even without holdings, they are left with one thing: "the human spirit" and "the future." I guess Katherine also took their abacus or she left them only solar-powered calculators but then stole the sun. Because that's two things. By way of non-example, Ben walks over to a draped easel and pulls off the covering, revealing a pencil sketch of a long, ferret-y animal, which he introduces to the assemblage as "the little pine weasel. Found only in our tri-county area. They are almost extinct." Daddy-isn't-not-crazy-yet glances are woefully exchanged around the room as Ben continues on that "according to an environmental impact report, what few pine weasels remain will be all but wiped out in the Packard plans for Ghostwood development." Bobby, the dumb and inquisitive amongst the four easily identifiable personality types -- does the inner circle of Horne Industries feels like a cheap knock-off of Herman's Head to anyone else sometimes…no, it's just me, then -- puts forth, "So, you wanna save the weasel?" But Ben's thinking bigger. And we know this because he leans in and speaks in hushed tones. And this is what he says: "No, Bobby. Not just the weasel. But life as we know it. I want Twin Peaks to remain unspoiled in an era of vast environmental carnage." He plans to fight Ghostwood on every ground "and with every available weapon. The little pine weasel is about to become a household word." Please return the calculators, Katherine. "Little pine weasel" hasn't been one word since, like, four words ago. See what I did there?

Is it Earl or is it Memorex? Inside the Double R, a flannel-clad gentlemen with a dumbly sinister smile and a penchant for long pans of chess boards tosses down some change and an envelope with Shelley's name on it and skulks away from the counter. Norma is on the phone behind the counter, saying, "Annie, it's no problem. I've got plenty of room. You just get on the flight, I'll be waiting." Noooooooo! Hang up, Legs. Do it! Prank call! Prank call! Shelley asks what's what, and Norma plot develops that her sister, Annie, is leaving the convent to come stay in Twin Peaks for a while. Wow. That's a bad idea, all right. But hello, what's this? Norma notices the envelope on the counter and hands it to Shelley, who opens it and reads a scrap of paper ripped from other scraps and sounds out the shards, "Mountains kiss, waves clasp, flower, sunlight, the moonbeams." She also finds an identical copy of the note sent to Audrey. Norma mentions that the Roadhouse meeting sounds "intriguing in a way, but it sounds dangerous." Whereas I think it sounds dangerous in a way, but it sounds intriguing. Seriously, what kind of a line is that? Ed enters the Double R just then, walks behind the counter, grabs Norma and tells her, "it's time for us to be together. Will you marry me?" Big smoochy kiss. Shelley retreats to the kitchen and the health inspector is all, "yuck." Where's a ten-episodes-old MT Wentz joke when you're really thirsting for one? Oh, there it was.

Leo "In A Coma, I Know, I Know, It's Serious" Johnson sits outside Earl's cabin in the woods, whittling some kind of long, wooden sticks for an as yet unascertained reason. Earl strolls outside, accompanied by the most enormous gut I've ever seen on a televised man not clinking a frosty beer mug and proclaiming "Da Bears!" over and over and over again. Man, am I kickin' it with the early 90s references today or what? Earl sings a ditty about holding a girl "in his arms," though from a wingspan-to-girth-ratio perspective, that seems like a physically impossible endeavor for him just at the moment. He congratulates Leo on a "good job," looking out into the woods and demanding, "Fly to my breast." I…nah, too easy. Earl tells Leo that he hopes he's been paying attention as he affixes a pointy arrow to the end of the wooden stick and warning Leo, "Nature is cruel." Actually, I believe the correct word you're looking for is less "breast" than it is "manboob."

Hank lies in the quiet comfort of the one jail cell in the back of the police station. A pair of legs in a waitress uniform carries Norma into the room, and she launches in after a vague hello with the unmistakable message, "Hank, I came here to ask you for a divorce." He knows how self-destructive he is and tells her he wants to go into therapy. "I don't want to be like this anymore." She sardonically tells him that his story is "very interesting," but insists she needs to get on with her life. He leans into the bars and asks her for one favor: "I want you to tell the Sheriff that I was at the rest stop the night that Leo Johnson was shot. I was on my way home. I can't prove it, but you can." Norma tells him that she won't cover his ass anymore, and he raises his voice ever so slightly in offering her the deal: "You give me my alibi, and I give you your divorce." Brows are furrowed and minor chords deployed. He grabs her arm through the bars and she rips it away. "I didn't come here to negotiate with you. This is it. It's over." Hank goes for the jugular, telling her, "You're his whore, Norma." And thus, Legs looks him straight in the eye and delivers the defining Peggy Lipton line for a generation of leggy women with ambiguously evil imprisoned husbands to champion for time immemorial: "I'd rather be his whore than your wife." The crowd of me goes wild. Norma doesn't let the door hit her in the ass on the way out as Hank rattles the bars of the cell, screaming her name after her.

"Searching For" Pete Martell stands over the still chessboard as Truman and Cooper flank him and drink coffee while looking concerned. Truman intercoms to Lucy to get the Gazette on the phone and extend the deadline for personals submission, just as Pete settles on a move which, he tells them, "That's it." Cooper needs to make sure Windom can't remove any more pieces from the board, and we're assured that it can't be done "for five, six more moves." Truman notes that he's "never heard of someone who murdered by the rules" because we've never, not once, heard a thing about that being an essential component of Earl's makeup. So it's important that we hear it again. They are soon to be interrupted by Albert, who calls Cooper out of the office. The Seattle police have an eyewitness account placing Josie at the scene of where Asian Man was Killed!!! Albert would consider it a personal affront if Cooper "ain't gonna bust this bitch," and Truman walks by just then to see the two men looking very you're-girlfriend-sure-is-one-busted-bitch.

Speaking of which, Ms. Glatter saw fit to recall the very first shot of the entire series, that moment in the pilot which finds Josie staring into the mirror sitting on her desk. Andrew knocks and enters with two glasses of champagne, creating insta-backstory in telling us, "I assume you still have a taste for bubbly. We killed enough bottles in our time." He toasts from The Big Book Of Death Knell Sounding Fortune Cookies, offering the words, "To beginnings and endings, and the wisdom to know the difference," opting for that one instead of the slightly more literal, "You will soon be going on a long journey…TO HELL!" She takes a moment to apologize to him. He tells her, "I hated you at first." Word. I'm warming to this guy by the second. Except for the narrowing, reductive nature of the "at first" part, of course. Andrew surmises that Eckhardt arranged the whole thing and told Josie lies, lies, lies, yeah, about Andrew never being in love with her. Andrew tells her that "the police are closing in," and that she needs to see Eckhardt if she has any intent of escaping alive. He doesn't know that Andrew is alive, after all, and Eckhardt can smuggle her out of the country. Andrew leaves and Josie falls to her knees onto the wooden floor. Where I guess her future sees her taking a lot of vacations. The floor can be so lovely this time of year for the wood-dwellers and other assorted convenient plot resolutions.

Ah, crap. Donna stands alone in an extremely wide shot in the middle of an open field as James "Little Boy Blue" Hurley pulls up on his motorcycle, morose and introspective as ever, as Donna tells him, "I wanted us to go somewhere we'd never been before." She's set up a picnic. They sit down and she asks him how things went with the police. Conveniently wrapped up again, natch. She tells him she knows "about Evelyn." James assures her, "I wouldn't blame you if you hated me." Hmmm. Thanks, Professor Permission, but I think we were all doing just fine with that exact lifestyle choice without this specific invitation. Donna tells him that she knows what he was going through when he ditched town and that "Evelyn took advantage of that." He wants to "start over again," and Donna begs him to come back to Twin Peaks with her. He tells her he can't, asking, "But what about you?" She tells him he can't worry about her anymore, telling him to "go." Dude, if it were just that easy to send him packing, one of us probably would have thought of it by now, you think? Way too many false alarms. He tells her he'll come back. He promises. Oh, thank God. Do I have permission to get really incredibly excited about that too, Master of Delightful Expectations?

Truman shows up at the front door of the Packard house, begging Pete and Katherine to tell him where Josie's gone. Katherine offers up her best "Well, it's the darndest thing" routine, telling Truman, "It's rather odd. She took my car without saying a word." Pete tells Truman that he remembers something about the Great Northern, and Katherine gives up the information that Josie has gone to see "Eckhardt. Thomas Eckhardt." God, even the last name/first name/last name construction of his name asserts him painfully as James Bond's cheap, non-union counterpart. With the rented tuxedo and the cheap sunglasses and the fake foreign accent and the well vodka in his shaken martinis or maybe just a shriveled old green olive in a toothpick floating at the bottom of a bottle of St. Pauli Girl. Cut to the Great Northern elevator, where Eckhardt enters and demands, "Lobby." A man in sunglasses standing to him (there are so many ill-disguised, agenda-free baddies in this episode I just don't know who to root for!) turns his way and asks, "Eckhardt?" It's Andrew. Do you care like I care? Or more? "More" is really the only other choice. Eckhardt smiles nervously and tells Andrew, "I don't believe in ghosts." Andrew pulls off a line I like, "You deserve haunting, for sure," and Eckhardt surmises in one word the reason for Andrew's continued non-death: "Josie!" Andrew fuels the lie that Josie knew he was alive all this time, and the elevator door opens in the lobby. Andrew bids him goodbye.

Over in the dining room, Ben, Audrey, and A Man Who Voluntarily Lets Other People Call Himself "Billy" In Real Life chat about the nature of Mr. Wheeler's business: "First of all, call me Jack, please." Okay. Jack. Whatever. "I buy bankrupt, failing businesses, I streamline them, bring them back up to speed, and then usually sell them." Ben lights a cigar and sings Wheeler's (er, "Jack's") praises all the more, telling Audrey, "When Jack is finished, the waste is rerouted, the air is cleaner, and the people happier." Jack frets that Ben is making him sound "like Santa Claus," but Ben has already risen and gone at a message from a hotel employee (I'm sure That Randy has already joined the Sylvia Horne Post-Employment Club, so it's not him), and makes off on the excuse that "the chef just tried to stab Jerry," leaving the two of them alone. Cue non-cute, non-flirty verbal sparring. Jack assumes that Audrey doesn't like him very much, and the universe is all, "Snerk." She's annoyed that he's stepped in to save their asses when the Hornes have been able to take care of themselves for "all this time." She small talks him about where he goes when he's not rescuing damsels in distress tied to train tracks and single-handedly building houses for indigent orphans plank by plank with his bare hands, and he responds, "The far corners of the Earth. I tell you, it's glorious out there, Audrey. All in all, it's good to be home." Audrey: "I'm only eighteen." Aw, crap. She tells him that she "has an appointment," and takes off in a hurry. But as people do on TV when they're done with a conversation without really being done, she turns to face him before she leaves the dining room and tells him, "I'll see you later." Not if ABC's dwindling patience with this pap sees you first.

Roadhouse. 9:30. Donna enters to find Shelley already sitting at the bar, and she tells her, "I got this really weird note. Someone wants me to meet them here." Shelley pulls out her scrap just as Audrey enters and the three pieces are locked together. Shelley reads the completed note out loud to make sure my recapping day never, ever ends:

See the mountains kiss high heaven, and the waves clasp one another
No sister flower would be forgiven, if it disdained its brother
And the sun might clasp the Earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea
What is all this sweet work worth, if thou kiss not me?

Oh, great. Three interesting women with potentially cool plots to follow, and they're being held hostage for the remaining seven episodes by Jack Freakin' Handy. And that, people, was the last 90s reference of the night. Or so you must believe. Earl sits at the far end of the bar, only a bucket of mud dumped symbolically over his head away from literalizing the extent of dirty old man he is quickly reaching.

By Djb

See the mountains kiss high heaven, and the waves clasp one another
No sister flower would be forgiven, if it disdained its brother
And the sun might clasp the Earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea
What is all this sweet work worth, if thou kiss not me?

By Djb

Inside his room at the Great Northern, Cooper's phone rings. It's Katherine, and Cooper repeats cogent portions of the conversation -- "She's here?" "Thomas Eckhardt's suite." "I see." -- before reaching into his bureau drawer and pulling out a gun. He walks down the hall toward the room and hears a Josie/Eckhardt scuffle going on behind the door. Then a pause. Then a gunshot. He bursts in to find Eckhardt is the one who has been shot by a gun filled with ketchup, I think, and he stares at Cooper for a minute before collapsing to the floor. Josie is kneeling on the bed, pointing a gun at Cooper and insisting, "He tried to kill me." Cooper wonders if that's what she'll say about him. And about Asian Man Killed!!! as well? Truman runs in, guns a-blazin' all ACTING when he yells "Put it down!" and Josie stares at him for just a moment before collapsing onto the bed. Truman runs over, but she's already dead. They lie for a moment, and as Cooper stares, the scene is washed in a spotlight and BOB -- of all people, really -- climbs onto the bed and shouts, "What happened to Josie?" He disappears and is replaced by Cooper's Mini-Me, doing a dance in the light. And then we're back to Truman, wailing over Josie's lifeless body as he realizes she'll never see a peaceful end to her inner turmoil or even her sweet sixteen. An agonizingly slow pan takes us over to the dresser drawer in the corner of Josie's room, and Josie appears inside of it and screams, as if trying to get out. Yup. I just wrote that. And I can't take it back.

Twin Peaks TV Show - &quot;Windom&apos;s Angels&quot; just doesn&apos;t have the same ring to it - Twin Peaks Photos &amp; Videos, Twin Peaks Reviews &amp; Twin Peaks Recaps | TWoP

Twin Peaks TV Show - "Windom's Angels" just doesn't have the same ring to it - Twin Peaks Photos & Videos, Twin Peaks Reviews & Twin Peaks Recaps | TWoP