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So Meg is the only survivor of the crash, but she's in a coma. Duncan is all, la la, Meg who? Veronica gets annoyed with how cavalier he's being, and you would think he'd be a little more concerned about someone he once dressed up as fricking Duckie for. He and Veronica make up, though. Meanwhile, the bus driver's daughter gets Veronica to investigate her father's death. Veronica talks to the awesome Kevin Smith, who's the clerk at the convenience store at which the bus made its last stop. (Unfortunately, Randal isn't pumping gas.) She figures out that the driver made a phone call from the store, and bluffs her way into the police station and tracks the call before Lamb can get to her. Turns out the driver called a woman in his apartment complex, a charge the woman denies in front of her husband. As you do. Lamb finds the driver's suicide note on his computer, only Veronica figures out that the note was meant to show his intent to leave his wife, not to end his life. Veronica confronts the apartment-complex woman again, and now that her husband isn't there, she confesses to having an affair with the driver, who told her he'd see her later in that last phone call, making the suicide thing a complete fantasy. Her teary confession to the daughter inspires Veronica to have sex with Duncan. Somewhere, Logan is all, "That's all it took?" Only "somewhere" is right down the hall of the Neptune Grand, and when Veronica and Logan see each other afterward...awkward. Of course, this means that Logan and Charisma are still sleeping together, despite Dick Casablancas Sr.'s being a far finer specimen than the whole "trophy wife sleeping with high-school boy" thing might have lead you to believe. Beaver is still, unsurprisingly, the most mature Casablancas around, and near the end, he gets a clue that "fidelity" isn't high on Charisma's list of turn-ons. Let's see, what else? The new girl in the opening credits shows up, and she's Jackie Cook, daughter of the hot baseball star from last week. She and Veronica mix like oil and bitchy water, but Wallace helps her out of a jam, so we might get a love interest for Wallace, which would be cool, since it's been almost a full year since that dingbat Georgia. Finally, Steve Guttenberg is unopposed in his bid for county supervisor, and he wants Keith to run for Sheriff. Keith turns him down, but seeing Lamb acting like his usual awesomely prickish self to the bus driver's daughter changes his mind. Which is good, because at the end, a man's body washes up on shore with Veronica's name written on his palm. DUN DUN DUN! And on this show, that actually means something. Want more? The full recap starts right below!
Before I start, I'd like to mention that, last season, I came up with the acronym "NVMVO" (the "N" standing for "Network") to describe some of the voice-overs that UPN caringly insists on putting in to help along the short-bus viewers of this show. Of course, up until now, I've had to speculate about which voice-overs actually do come from the network. But this week, I've brokered a one-time-only deal by which I've procured a copy of the network notes, so we can all see for ourselves how much UPN wants to nurture its audience. The bad news is that in return, they're giving me notes on my recap. But really, how intrusive can they be? Network Note: Not very. We only tell you the things that we think are absolutely necessary. Oh, you were being rhetorical. Well, carry on, then.
Lots of previouslies, including the whole Felix murder, which seems tangential at best to the action this week. NN: Murder is sexy. Show that "previously" every week. Also, look up "tangential."
We open at the Hut, on a close-up of Veronica examining all the baked goods inside the glass counter. She takes out a pie filled with some sort of fruit as VMVO asks, "If a school bus traveling forty miles per hour drives off a cliff and plunges ninety feet into the jagged coastline..." Cool, a math problem! I was good at these in high school! She finishes, "...how many seconds do the six high-school students, their teacher, and [the] bus driver have to contemplate the fact that they're about to die?" Well, geez. I don't remember word problems being quite such a buzzkill. Veronica hands a piece of the pie off to another employee as VMVO tells us that one person survived. Duncan appears, wearing an argyle collared shirt, which...no. Veronica asks him how Meg is, and Duncan tells her that Meg's unconscious but "hanging in there." Veronica tells her co-worker (not the Perky Girl from last week) that she's going to take her break now, and leads Duncan behind an unmanned counter as he tells her she has to stop torturing herself. Yes, because if the Lilly murder investigation taught us anything, it's that Veronica is quick to let things go. Also, Duncan has been so cavalier about Meg in general that I'm not sure I believe he would even have gone to the hospital. Veronica says that her degree of guilt is appropriate, since Meg would have been in the limo if not for her. Also, apparently Meg is on artificial respiration, so she won't be on the sidelines yelling for any fall-season sports teams to get their heads out of their asses. Just to address the Meg thing now, many people on the boards felt it was cheap that the one person we know and care about on the bus survived the crash. I can understand that viewpoint, but on the flipside, you could say that having the person Veronica knows and feels responsible for be in a coma indefinitely is crueler. It's not like Meg opened an umbrella and Mary Poppinsed her way to safety. Although I can see that mental image. But it's not as easy as burying Meg, grieving, and moving on. She's going to linger, which will be a constant source of hurt. Of course, it seems likely enough that Meg will wake up with some information about the crash at some point later in the season, which, assuming Veronica gets to talk to her, could set up some very emotionally resonant scenes. But there's no guarantee Meg will live even though she didn't die in the crash, and honestly, I think she probably will die, so maybe they're holding back that payoff for later in the season. I think I'm fine with this plotline, as long as they don't go the amnesia route. Jessica's theMelrose Placerecapper around here. NN: When Meg wakes up for February sweeps, have her rip her hair off.
Tessa Thompson, whom we haven't heretofore seen outside the opening credits, appears at the counter where Duncan and Veronica are having their talk. Tessa gets increasingly irritated as Veronica says that if she and Duncan weren't dating, Meg would be safe. Finally, Tessa clears her throat pointedly and is like, "When you guys are done breaking up, can I get a macchiato?" You sure you can wait two episodes for that? Veronica starts to explain that she's just the hostess, which isn't what we saw in flashback, but maybe she's been promoted due to her tireless efforts in the three months she's been working here. Tessa snots that she doesn't care if Veronica's the house magician -- she just wants Veronica to make her a macchiato. Veronica walks over to Tessa slowly and then makes a "Poof!" gesture with her hands as she snits, "You're a macchiato." Tessa, unbowed, tells Duncan that he can do better, causing Veronica to snap her head back with a shocked expression. Oh, Veronica, stop trying to one-up her and just spit in her coffee. It's more realistic, and besides, we know from later events that you don't have any trouble hocking a loogie.
Cut to a press conference in full swing at the sheriff's office. The reporters are asking Lamb questions, and am I glad to see him. I don't know that I gave Michael Muhney his due last season, but I think he adds an awful lot to the show. It's not every actor who can become an audience favorite when he starts from being Logan's only serious competition for "Image Most Likely To Be Captured In A Voodoo Doll." (Yes, Dohring has similarly become a favorite, but I've complimented his performances many times.) Also, Lamb's the most nagging reminder of Veronica's and Keith's year of ostracism. More Lamb, please. A female Asian reporter (only mentioning it because I appreciate the diversity) asks about bus-maintenance reports, pointing out that only kids from the poor side of town take the bus. I'm not sure why this is an appropriate question for Lamb instead of for VP Clemmons, but Lamb shuts her down by pointing out that the bus driver was from the wrong side of town himself. Lamb goes on to say that they're looking into Ed Doyle, the bus driver, and that they've uncovered some information that concerns them: he had a history of mental illness and marital problems, he was prescribed an antidepressant but never filled the prescription, and he once attempted suicide. Nothing against anyone with these sorts of problems, but if I were a Neptune parent, I'd be concerned that someone with a probable chemical imbalance could be in charge of the safety of my kids. Then again, maybe the only people who are willing to drive into the war zone of gang violence that is The Wrong Side Of The Tracks these days in Neptune are the crazies. Lamb, after acknowledging that there were no skid marks or any indication that the driver tried to slow down, ends the press conference. Steve Guttenberg is there, for some reason. NN: Well, it's a police station. He feels at home there. Hopefully we can get that guy who does the funny noises soon.
Veronica drives into the Neptune High parking lot as VMVO tells us that reporters have laid siege to the school, looking to talk to any kids who can give them stories about the deceased. Inside, Veronica enters the girls' bathroom, goes over to the sink, and in the mirror sees a blonde girl with a tough expression on her face. The girl asks if Veronica knows who she is, and Veronica says she does. The girl then inquires as to whether Veronica knew who she was last week, and the answer is no. Two out of three? No, the girl is all, "Your dad drives one bus over a cliff and your days of being under the radar are over." Well, everyone's got to get fifteen minutes somehow. Veronica, in an uncharacteristically wary and unfriendly manner, asks the girl if she wants something, and the girl responds that she needs proof that her dad didn't commit suicide, since their insurance company won't make good on his policy. Veronica starts to point out the difficulties inherent in such an investigation, and declines to help. Given that she was a twist of fate away from dying in the crash herself, I'm thinking Veronica's refusal has more to do with the desire to avoid the painful emotions the investigation would stir up rather than the silly "normal life" idea that took her out of the detective game for all of five minutes. Hoping, anyway.
Some 09er bitch who I think was on at some point last season chooses that moment to enter and give the girl, "Jessie," shit about her dad. She then turns to Veronica and asks if she and Duncan are coming to some party of Logan's. That's weird, because I don't get the sense that our Logan has retained any semblance of his social status from last year, yet it's an uncommon enough name to make me think it's got to be Logan Echolls she's talking about. ["The other rich-asshole Logan I know lives pretty far away to be hosting a party Neptunians might attend." -- Wing Chun] The 09er girl delivers the line with a complete absence of malice, so I guess we're supposed to learn that (a) Veronica's totally accepted by the 09ers now, and (b) no one but the three people involved think Veronica dumping Logan and getting back together with Duncan is any sort of big deal. Actually, I think only two of those people even think it's a big deal, but the other one is, I hope, too busy brushing up on chemistry to have much time to think about anything else. NN: What do you mean? Duncan's a great student! Anyway, Jessie interrupts the rich kids' concerns with a right hook to the jaw of the bitch with the speaking lines, which drops her like a badly-highlighted ton of bricks. Her friends kneel by her side, and Veronica grabs Jessie and says she'll help her, but that she has to chill. So Veronica's only getting involved because she wants to avoid future scenes like this? The old Veronica would have sold tickets and popcorn, and I wouldn't have blamed her. I'd rather see that than a bum fight any day. Credits.
Veronica helps a bald guy in a Hawaiian shirt to light a votive candle in front of a sign that reads "Neptune's Angels." We're at the site of the bus's plunge, and random people have set up a makeshift shrine to the victims. VMVO says she's not even sure what she's looking for. I guess it's not maudlin expressions of grief, then. Jessie appears and snots that she guesses her dad doesn't rate a votive candle, and when the onlookers start to take notice of her, Veronica whisks her away. Probably a good idea -- a right cross to the wrong person could produce another fatality. On the plus side, it would be the fastest-mourned corpse in history.
Keith and Steve Guttenberg are watching a Little League game. Steve says he's running for "county supervisor" (he said "mayor" last week, but Rob Thomas apparently explained that that was a gaffe -- Neptune has a sheriff because it's an "unincorporated" county, and as such, would have a county supervisor instead of a mayor) because Neptune is his home, and he wants to make it cleaner and safer. Steve's character's name is "Woody Goodman," but I'm not typing that every time, and given his affinity for baseball, I feel compelled to call him "The Woodman." Apologies if there's any way that could be misconstrued. Some kids who look like they're from The Wrong Side Of The Tracks are getting annoyed because they're waiting to play, and the kids on the field were supposed to be off five minutes ago. The Woodman tells Keith that he wants him to run for sheriff. Keith asks, just out of curiosity, where The Woodman stood when Keith was forced out of office. It's a good test for The Woodman, if he's a first-time politician, to see how he deals with the awkward. The Woodman admits that he signed the petition to get rid of Keith, but that he's prepared to admit he was wrong. You might think that's too little, too late, but it's still plenty better than we see from a lot of politicians these days. At least he didn't blame the CIA.
The kids on the sidelines have decided that going six minutes over is grounds for a rumble, so they go out and start a shoving match with the kids on the field. The Woodman runs out to break them up, while Keith does his best Duncan by standing idly by. That seems out of character for him, but I never did buy his story about getting a cut under his eye from a collision at home plate. His inaction is a lot more believable if he collided with the business end of a ten-year-old's bat. The Woodman breaks the shoving up and apologizes for letting his kids run over. He then somewhat weirdly segues into talking about sportsmanship, saying it's what separates us from the animals: "That, and opposable thumbs." Ew, dorky, and not in a good way, so props to whichever kid it is that guffaws sarcastically. Plus, I thought the difference was our ability to accessorize. Of course, The Woodman may have been aiming for a masculine reference, but frankly, I think Olympia Dukakis is more of a man than David Schwimmer, even if you don't count Tales Of The City. The Woodman takes his kids off the field while calling to Keith to let him know by the end of the week about the sheriff thing. Steve Guttenberg is no Harry Hamlin so far, I'll tell you that. (Funny how that's actually an insult now.)
Chez Mars. Veronica has made breakfast for Keith. Aw. She says that The Woodman is a shoo-in, and Keith notes that that's probably because he's unopposed. Who is the current county supervisor? Veronica, wearing a cute grey tank top with red piping, encouragingly tells Keith that he'd practically be assured of victory, but Keith doesn't want Veronica and himself to be subjected to election ugliness. I'd think any ugliness from the election would be small potatoes to your town thinking you're a bumbling fool and stripping you of your office, but I guess the experience can't be that bad if Keith's writing a tell-all book about it. Seriously, though, he's run for sheriff before, and he's got the full backing of the supervisor, so what's the problem? I have little issue with any of the actions or decisions of the characters so far this season, but I have to say that the motivations behind those actions and decisions are coming across as forced and false with increasing frequency. I totally would have bought it if Keith were just sour on the idea of being sheriff from his experiences with the Lilly case, both from seeing someone he cared about murdered and having the town turn against him, and it's true that the exchange with The Woodman suggests that at least part of that is on his mind. But why hide behind this vague notion that the election mudslinging will be too much to bear? This is a guy who stuck it out in Neptune when he and his daughter were openly considered the scum of the earth! I could even see it if he were concerned about Alicia, since she hasn't been through this before, but since he changes his mind by the end of this episode that she's not even in, I don't see that being it. NN: Wow, you think a lot. Lighten up, man! It's TV!
Anyway, Veronica's and Keith's attention turns to the TV, where the awesome Kevin Smith is telling us that the bus driver was a "weird duck. You could tell that right off the bat." I thought there was something weird about Kevin Smith, but then I realized that it's just because he's not wearing his signature cap. Kevin goes on to say that the driver bought some stuff and started to leave, but came back and bought a St. Christopher's medallion, and then threw it out. Keith tells Veronica that he can't imagine what his life would have been like if Veronica had gotten back on the bus. Veronica tells him he'd be sad for a while, but then he'd convert her room into something else. Keith soberly tells her that she doesn't have to make a joke. Veronica: "Sure I do." YES! That is a simple exchange that's in character and speaks volumes. Veronica disengages from their one-armed embrace and starts to go to her room, but turns back with a thought: what if there's a clue in the other items the bus driver bought? Keith warns her not to try to make sense of the tragedy, but Veronica counters that she knows the bus driver's daughter, and that Jessie could use whatever little sense Veronica can provide. Keith heavily agrees. Nice that someone's grateful she's alive, Duncan.
School. Veronica's at her locker. A bitchy 09er girl speculates about whether Meg's face will be normal when she wakes up. Veronica slams the bint's locker closed and stomps off, causing the girl to call her a bitch. Only she went to a special school for overacting where they teach you that "bitch" has four syllables. Duncan appears and asks what's wrong. When Veronica's still too steamed to answer, Duncan tells her she's been listening to "too much Radiohead," and suggests that she try Nelly. Interesting -- I would have thought he'd recommend Robots In Disguise. Veronica emotionally asks how she should be feeling -- happy, like he is? Duncan puts up his hands and backs away with an "oh, that time of the month" look on his face. Yes, the time where YOUR EX-GIRLFRIEND IS NEARLY DEAD AND YOUR CURRENT ONE ALMOST DIED TOO AND YOU DON'T SEEM TO CARE AT ALL. Duncan really is acting like kind of a douchebag. Well, it's acting, at least.
Cook, hot baseball star extraordinaire, enters his daughter's bedroom with an overnight bag. Said daughter is Tessa Thompson, but her character's name is Jackie, if I haven't mentioned that before. Cook asks when Jackie is going to get up, and doesn't take kindly to the estimate of another forty minutes. If I had that sweet king-sized bed, I'd never get out of it, but Cook says that Jackie's not missing another day of school. Jackie: "Even if I have cramps?" She should talk to Duncan. We get alternately bitchy and stern dialogue that exposits that Jackie was living in New York with her mom, and the implication is that Jackie would rather make a macchiato than go back to New York and live with her mom, even if it meant picking the coffee beans and milking the cow herself. Cook gives her a set of car keys and tells her he'll be back in a couple of days, and that she should call if she needs anything. Jackie protests that the keys don't look German, but Cook says she'll take the Bronco, not the Porsche. Will her troubles never end?
Apparently yes, as Jackie pulls into the school parking lot in the Porsche. Heh. In study hall, some girl is prattling on about "Cervando," a PCH biker who died on the bus, and was also on the honor roll. Maybe Weevil found out about that and told him to commit hara-kiri. Some other dimwit asks if the PCHers didn't give him a hard time, and the first airhead says that they did at first, "but then they learned to respect it, because that was the kind of person that Cervando was." The kind that causes people to spew prattling nonsense about him after his death? I'm getting that. Wallace looks horribly bored and marginally offended by all of this, bless him. His expression changes, however, when Jackie enters the room, and I'll make your mental picture a lot clearer if I say that his facial expression looks like Pepe Le Pew's after that cat showed up with a white stripe painted on its back. The teacher tells Jackie that she has to go to the attendance office, and she badly delivers her line asking where it is. Wallace raises his hand as enthusiastically as the most nauseating teacher's pet in second grade, all "Ooh! Ooh!" What really sells this moment, however, is that the Babbling Bimbo now turns and gives him a look of disapproval. Hee.
In the hall, Jackie puts on a mock-dumb voice as she thanks Wallace for taking her. She goes on to say that she hasn't dated a guy in high school since the eighth grade, but Wallace is undeterred, saying he's an old soul. He's helping his case there, because while that's a horrible pickup line, most guys don't learn it until at least their sophomore year in college. Jackie ribs him for being a nice guy, but it's clear that she actually likes him. He smiles that she's one of those girls who only likes bad boys: "Why do all the hottest girls always have a daddy complex?" I don't know, but from the look on Jackie's face, you might have to wait for your answer until after she's done disemboweling you. Wallace says he was kidding, but Jackie sarcastically tells him that she's only known him for, like, three seconds, and he's already got her analyzed. Well, in relative terms, they've known each other a lot longer now than when she assumed he wanted to date her. Jackie pushes past him, and he apologizes again. She turns with the look of death still on her face, but suddenly recovers, smiles, and tries to play off the fact that she was pissed. Her line is pretty funny, I'm told, but she garbles it so badly I won't be transcribing it. Wallace buys what she's selling. So much for him being ahead of the curve.
Speaking of which, Logan is boinking Charisma. He says that their "afternoon delight" is better than a marble-mouthed delivery. Well, he said something else, but Logan appears to be, along with Jackie, taking up the slack for Deputy Leo in the unclear line delivery department. Enunciate, kid. Charisma says Logan needs to keep quiet about the whole high-school thing, since there's "an ick factor." Well, there might be if they were doing anything, but this is an oddly limp scene, no pun intended. Charisma says something about wearing a "naughty schoolgirl uniform," and clearly she's no believer in karma if she doesn't want ick coming her way. Because, ick. Charisma says that Logan's her first younger guy, and Logan says it's "an honor and a privilege." And then we're out, even if Logan isn't.
Duncan finds Veronica waiting for him at his car. She's like, "I suck." Well, you do now. Duncan says he was just trying to make her feel better, and he's "struggling with all this too." Oy. I'm just going to let that one go. Veronica kisses and embraces him, and then tells him she has all these conflicting emotions: Grief for those who died, guilt over Meg, joy for being alive. NN: Good speech, huh? I know some people say "show, don't tell," but I learned "show and tell" a lot earlier in life! Suck it, Robert McKee! Duncan listens to her whole speech without a trace of an indication that he's experiencing any of the same emotions, and tells her it's not her fault. Veronica: "I'm afraid that line only works in Good Will Hunting." Yeah, and even there, it starts to get stale around the eighty-seventh time. In that one freakin' scene. Duncan laughs. NN: Pretty eyes, huh?
Back to Logan and Charisma. They're making out, seemingly post-coitally, when they hear something. The front door opens in the other room, and they scatter. A rather handsome fortysomething man enters the house, Dick and Beaver trailing behind him, so this is Daddy Casablancas. He's lecturing his kids not to let the country-club valet touch the car in the future, since it always comes back with a scratch. Uh, okay. Daddy C goes in to find Charisma in a robe, doing her nails and listening to her iPod. That's some nice work. One might almost think she's done this before. The forum posters were quick to notice, also, that she might have broken out the nail polish to cover up, um, certain other smells. Gross. Beaver asks why Logan's truck is there (an Xterra, not a Humvee as I said in the first recap of this season, not that I know the difference or would ever buy either one), and Charisma, fast on her feet, says that he's there for the pool, and is upstairs waiting for the younger Casablancases. She gets into her performance by calling after them that she'd prefer their friends not showing up whenever they want. Well, sure -- you have to know a guy for a while before you ask him to earn his red wings. NN: Aw, that sounds cute. Nothing to offend the censors here!
Upstairs, Logan is playing a shooting game. You'd think he would have had enough. Dick and Beaver enter, and Logan overdoes it a little as he complains that Charisma is a bitch. Daddy C enters and asks Logan how it's going. Logan smiles, "Really well, thanks for asking, Mr. C. And you?" Heh. Logan's had a rough summer, so it's nice that happy days are here again. Daddy C says that Logan's welcome there any time. Yeah, he knows. He invites Logan to come with him and "Dick Jr." to the firing range. Well, if Daddy C is Big Dick, you know what that makes his elder son. Sorry, Ryan Hansen. Logan says he'll come as long as he's not the target, and Big Dick fires a finger-gun at him. I guess he thinks Logan's "super-fine." Which would explain a lot about the goings-on in his household. Beaver says he guesses he'll just stay home and knit something, and Logan rubs his head. Aw. I love Beaver. And there's a sentiment I never thought I'd express.
Wallace, in gym clothes, finds Jackie by her car with a slip of paper in her hand, looking distraught. She shows Wallace a dent in her dad's Porsche, and says that whoever did it left a fake note. I wonder if it said, "You're SCREWED, New Girl!" Of course, that probably wouldn't be fake. In fact, the note expresses basically that sentiment, and Jackie says this is exactly what her dad is expecting. Well, not exactly -- he figured you'd bust up the Bronco. Wallace offers to help, and says he knows somebody. He gets out his very own Sidekick (aw) and says they're going to track the scumbag down.
Hee hee hee. We get a look at a shelf full of bus merchandise, which all features a picture of a school bus with wings and a halo, and a caption reading, "We'll never forget." Now this is satire. There are sweatshirts, hats -- even a shot glass! I could really use one of those. Also, "Magic Bus" is playing, and again, hee. Veronica answers her phone, and Wallace asks, "Whatcha doin'?" with a big smile and an awesome Veronica-esque head-tilt. Hee. Veronica bitterly says she's remembering why she's a misanthrope, and tells him about the souvenirs. Wallace backs off and says he'll take care of his problem himself. You should have sent an image of the head-tilt, Wallace. She wouldn't have been able to resist that. Jackie asks what's up, and Wallace fronts that everything's good, since he's on the case. Well, at least he found a subplot. It's an encouraging start.
Back in the store, VMVO wonders how she's going to convince "this spotlight-loving bozo" that she's his friend. I don't know -- maybe dress like a long-haired overcoat-wearing skate punk and hit on everything in sight with boobs and a pulse (latter optional)? Veronica asks the Gameboy-playing Smith if he's the guy from the news, and he affably tells her he is as he proudly shows off the bus sweatshirt he's wearing. Heh. He asks if he looked fat on TV, and talks about the camera adding ten pounds. Veronica looks at his gut and wonders how many cameras Kevin thinks were on him. Kevin then awesomely malaprops that he started a "diet regiment" that morning. Hee. Veronica fake-enthuses that it must have been so freaky to be the last one to talk to the bus driver. I'm guessing some of the kids might have talked to him later on, if only to scream "You IDIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!" Veronica says she's into the macabre, and Kevin agrees that she must be one of those "freaky sex-and-death type kids." Veronica smiles sardonically to herself, no doubt thinking about how much shit Lilly's going to give her for this conversation should they meet up in the afterlife. Kevin brilliantly goes on for a while about Goths and non-Goths, and then says that Veronica is the "Marilyn" to all the Munsters that have been coming in lately. Veronica asks what the bus driver's last meal was, and Kevin pours her a Slushy-type drink as he says that if he were going to kill himself, he'd want his last meal to be something exotic, like "the last emu" or something. He also gives her a pack of peanuts and charges her a buck ninety-eight. VMVO complains that this meal tells her nothing. Well, I'd say it tells us that Ed didn't have diabetes or a fatal peanut allergy, but given how literally some people on the boards are taking the "nothing is what it seems" theme, maybe that's too big a leap to make. Veronica notices a sign that says they don't make change, under no circumstances, never, and deduces that, at twenty-five cents, buying a St. Christopher's medallion is a good way to break a dollar. It's also a good way to ward off accidents while traveling, but sadly, throwing it away negates the effect. Kevin tells her to be careful going around the cliffs: "Don't pull a bus." Hee. And that's it for Kevin Smith. Anyone making cameo appearances from here on out better bring his A game. NVMVO tells us that the driver got the change to use the phone: "But who did he call, and why doesn't anyone know about it?" NN: These are questions you'd probably never ask yourself. No need to thank us.
Sheriff's office. Veronica accosts the deputy with the bad moustache who searched her locker in the pilot, and tells him she wants to apply for the part-time receptionist job advertised in the paper. Moustache asks if she's serious. Veronica: "As a Code Three on a 187 in a res dist." First, hee. Second, if I can understand that without closed-captioning, certain cast members old and new should really start practicing their diction. Anyway, Moustache gives Veronica an application and sets her up in a private room...
...wherein she uses the land line as NVMVO tells us that few organizations have access to pay phone records, but among them is the sheriff's department. I assume she's using their land line so that the sheriff's office will show up on the caller ID. NN: Wow, are you a cop? Veronica gives the details of the phone call.
Wallace finds some hacky-sack-playing slackers and bribes them with chips. He's got potential as a detective here -- not only did he think bring something to grease the wheels, but he gave it to the only member of the group with an SAG card. He asks if they saw who dinged Jackie's car. Speaking Stoner says that it was a blonde girl with a nice ass who drives a green car. Wallace doesn't look chagrined at the description, so either Veronica already has an alibi, or she needs to do a few squats.
Moustache tells Lamb that he'll never guess who's in the interrogation room. Lamb: "You're right. I'll never guess." Heh. Moustache says it's Veronica, and Lamb incredulously asks if Moustache left her in there alone. Heh, again. From the way Lamb's eyes bug out as he asks this, Veronica might as well apply for a deputy job, since it looks like there's about to be an opening.
Veronica finishes up her call right before Lamb busts in. Veronica says she's up to the last question, which asks why she wants this position. She asks how much of a kiss-ass she'd be if she said it was to be close to Lamb. Lamb impatiently yanks her chair, and as she gets up to leave, she's like, "Seriously. Why do birds suddenly appear every time you're near?" Hee. I doubt Karen Carpenter realized the possibility of the profane double entendre there. But the mention of birds probably just made her hungry.
Wallace is proudly explaining his detective work to Jackie. Using his attendance connections, he cross-referenced parking permits with yearbook pictures, and narrowed the number of possibilities to four, two of which didn't pan out. Jackie whines that her dad is coming back the day, but Wallace tells her it'll all work out. After they flirt a little, Wallace tells her the case is solved, since there's only one girl left on the list. Time to order Buns Of Steel, Veronica.
Wallace is checking out an old green Hyundai when a girl on crutches appears and asks what he's doing. Some extra passes by wearing a bus shirt, and I'm not going to get tired of that anytime soon. Wallace greets the girl on crutches as "Jane," and asks what happened. Jane had knee surgery a month ago, and also, Wallace has never said two words to her before, despite their having classes together and Jane seeming to be into him. Wallace, she's cute enough. Plus, even if she turns out to be a stalker, she won't be able to tail him very quickly. Some guy appears, whom Jane introduces as Bob, her "chauffeur friend," but dorks that he's just a friend. Okay, Wallace, I was wrong -- she's too clingy. She'd probably break your toe with one of her crutches. Also, you may not be seeing much of Jane in the near future, because her designated driver is going to kill himself now that he's been slapped with the "friend" label.
Chez Jessie. The girl in question, who looks a little like Michelle Williams with half-decent hair, serves Veronica some fake iced tea, and speculates that her dad's calling someone before the accident is a good sign. Veronica agrees that it might be, not bothering to point out that it sort of depends what he said. If he called the funeral home to warn them that they shouldn't even think about an open casket, it would actually be negative. Veronica asks whether Jessie recognizes the name "Cotter," since that's the recipient of the call, whose address is in Jessie's apartment complex. Jessie is unfamiliar with the name, and says that her dad never hung out with the neighbors. Well, I'll concede that he probably didn't hang out with them in the complex. But that school bus is awfully empty at night. I wonder exactly what it was that Dick smelled. The doorbell rings, and Jessie answers it to find Lamb, who has a search warrant, since if Driver Ed intended to crash the bus, he's guilty not only of suicide but also of murder. Lamb, with a sardonic smile, asks what Veronica's doing there. Veronica looks defiantly at him and says, "Jessie's a friend." Lamb's smile fades, because he hates having to look words up.
BANG! Big Dick is shooting a target with deadly precision. With that kind of prowess, it's hard to believe Charisma needs any side action. Little Dick, on the other hand, shoots way too quickly and all over the place, which also explains a lot. Logan takes a few shots with skill somewhere in between Big and Little Dick. Big Dick asks Logan if he's ever shot before, and the answer is no, which is hard to believe, given his penchant for violence and his dad's extensive belt collection. Big Dick tells Logan that if he's going to shoot someone, he should take them down, not wing them. Well, with Haaron in jail, it's nice to know that someone is stepping up to give Logan horrible fatherly advice. Big Dick goes on to overshare that when he's working, his family doesn't exist. Dick gives a somewhat ambiguous smile there, so I'm not sure what he thinks of that statement, but I'd be willing to bet that Beaver's response would be, "You work an awful lot." Big Dick says that, conversely, when he's with his family, work doesn't exist. I'd like to see the existential problem for Big Dick if his kids ever showed up at the office. Ceci n'est pas une famille. Logan smiles that his dad has a similar philosophy: "Of course, he's a murderer." Hee. Surprisingly, Big Dick doesn't rush to laugh, but does eventually give a somewhat bewildered smile. He goes back to his booth, and Little Dick tells Logan they should have some "chicks" over the night, since his dad and stepmom will be attending a banquet at the Neptune Grand. Logan suggests his sprawling, parentless house might be more appropriate for the seduction of girls with low standards, but Little Dick tells him, "Only psycho chicks want to go to Casa de Killer." Well, that may be, but I bet there are a lot of them. ["Furthermore, Logan's reminder that he lives alone just leads to the question of why he and Charisma would be holding their assignations at her place." -- Wing Chun] Logan fakes a laugh, but when Little Dick walks away, Logan shoots his target right in the heart.
Sac-n-Pac. We haven't been here since the pilot! Veronica finds Wallace reading the Neptune Register. He shows her an article about Cervando, which I wouldn't even bother looking at, except (a) it tells me that Cervando's last name was Perez and (b) the author is listed as "Diane Ruggiero," the lovely and talented co-executive producer who wrote this episode. Hee, nice. Veronica asks Wallace to, if she dies, go on Oprah and tell the world she loved kittens. Heh.
Weird cut here to Veronica knocking on a door in an apartment complex. Some guy answers, and once Veronica confirms that he's "Jeff Cotter," she introduces herself as an A.D.A., "Dawn Lamb." Ha! Awesome, even if I'm not sure I believe she could get those words out without her gag reflex kicking in. Veronica asks if Jeff knew Ed Doyle, but apart from recognizing his name and knowing that he lived in the area, the answer is no. Veronica tells Jeff that the phone call Doyle placed was to his apartment, but Cotter was in New York at the time. He calls for his wife, "Carla," who was Yola on The Chris Isaak Show. (Oh, shut up.) Veronica asks Yola about the call, but Yola tells Veronica she thinks it was just a wrong number. Veronica's phone rings, and she thanks Mr. and Mrs. Yola for their time. The call is from Jessie, who tells Veronica she can stop investigating; Lamb found a suicide note from her dad saved on his computer. Veronica's bummed expression takes us into a commercial break.
Veronica shows up at Jessie's apartment and says she just wanted to check in. Considering that Jessie's mom is in the middle of berating her adorable early-elementary-school son for crying over his dad, I hope Veronica came to read the Un!Comfortable! meter. Jessie intervenes, and the mother leaves the room as Jessie kindly tells her brother not to listen to their mom when she's like this. She goes on to say that their dad was sick, and was in a lot of pain. The kid's teary, quiet response of "Where was it?" is enough to break your heart. In the good way, not the "he nominated WHO?" way. Jessie tries her best to explain, and the kid lets her off the hook by going to play outside. I'd keep an eye out for the school bus, kid -- people are dangerous once they get ideas. Jessie shows Veronica the note, and really, I'd think she'd be a little suspicious, given that her dad didn't print the note out or take any steps to make sure it was read. If it was only a first draft, you'd think he wouldn't have taken the plunge until he got the wording just right. The note says that he's sorry, but that he believes what he's doing is for the best. He can't go on like this, and he can't stay just for the kids. Jessie bitterly says she's better off without him, and then her mom snappishly calls her name. I should say that the woman playing Jessie, Ari Graynor, did quite a nice job this episode. Left alone, Veronica takes a look at the note and gets a pensive look on her face. NN: I wonder what she's thinking about. Hey, nice lip gloss. Do you think she's going to keep her hair like that? Wait, what was I talking about? I could really have used a VMVO there to keep me on point.
Sac-N-Pac. Some bald, slightly overweight guy chats up Wallace, saying he used to work nights when he was Wallace's age. Having attempted to establish a bond straight out of Conversational Gambits For Dummies, he segues into asking if Wallace goes to Neptune, and it doesn't take Wallace long to cotton on that he's looking for a story. The guy takes out a reporter's pad, which Wallace grabs and tears a sheet out of, saying he's never seen a notebook like that. Oh, Wallace, it's so cute the way you're trying to convince us you weren't a Lois and Clark addict. Anyway, Wallace blows the guy off.
Veronica goes to see Yola and tells her the phone call from Driver Ed lasted four minutes, which is pretty long for a wrong number. Yola tries to come up with an excuse, but just ends up emulating a small-mouthed bass. Veronica says she thinks Driver Ed wasn't planning to kill himself, but to leave his wife for Yola. In that case, I'm surprised the note didn't have a postscript suggesting that his wife give Jeff Cotter a call in a week or two. By the way, I think the detective work in the A-plot was nicely handled. I mean, the connection between the St. Christopher's medallion and the change looked blindingly easy on the surface, but the point is that the sheriff's department approached it already believing the suicide story, based on the lack of skid marks and the driver's medical history. Thus, they missed an attractive alternative explanation. Same with the "suicide" note. Veronica, on the other hand, approached it neutrally enough to see the truth, and that approach is why she and Keith are better detectives than local law will ever be. Add in that it drives home the theme of nothing being what it seems in Neptune, and you've got Veronica doing some solid, if not overly riveting, work here. Yola starts to cry as she invites Veronica in. The Format's "On Your Porch" kicks up...
...and plays throughout the scene. Nice musical choice here. Veronica leads Jessie to a table in the Hut at which Yola is sitting. Yola, trying hard to keep it together, tells Jessie that her dad talked about Jessie all the time. Jessie, starting to well up too, points out that she can't say the same. Yola flat-out says that she and Jessie's dad were in love, and that he said in his phone call that he'd see her later, so there's no way he intended to drive off that cliff. Also, he didn't want to leave Jessie and her brother with their mother, so I guess he changed his mind about that part after writing the note. Jessie takes a minute to consider all of this, but sits down wordlessly at Yola's table. Yola tells Jessie that she never really got to be with the man she loved. I think she's pushing the limits of Jessie's understanding here. She's only gotten this far because Jessie's mom makes even Charisma look like a doting mother figure (no, not in that way, ew). But without that seemingly irrelevant sentiment, we wouldn't get this NVMVO: "You know the charge that goes up your spine at the moment of epiphany? It just hit me. I'm not going to let the list of things I want to do before I die turn into a list of regrets." Thanks, Seemingly Irrelevant Sentiment! NN: Was that sarcasm? I've heard about that. Seriously, I got that message from Kristen Bell's facial expressions, that's what acting's all about, good GOD!
Duncan opens the door to his hotel room with a smile: "You came!" Well, that would defeat the purpose of her visit. A teary-eyed Veronica embraces him. Cut to them making out, and then Duncan carries Veronica to the bed. The song finishes up as we get a close-up of some assorted Italian imagery, including a replica of the Statue of David and a throw pillow of the Mona Lisa. Nice try, but I don't think most of the forum posters are anxious to see this moment immortalized in the Louvre.
Veronica lies across Duncan's bare chest. He puts on a falsetto as he asks what she's thinking. She in turn deepens her voice and makes a football comment, and then spits on his neck. They then hear some rather rhythmic moaning and banging coming from a room that shares a wall with them. I hope. Duncan wonders if maybe they "did it wrong," and Duncan, if you find anyone to bet against that supposition, let me know, since I'd like to interest him in a little gambling game called "Heads I Win, Tails You Lose." Veronica's a little discomfited at the, um, steady pace of the noise, and Duncan asks if he should bang on the wall or call the front desk. Veronica suggests trying to out-moan them, but Duncan flips on the TV instead. These two have about as much chemistry as brother and sister. Old habits die hard, I guess.
Later, Duncan is asleep while Veronica, dressed, is getting her stuff together. She gives Duncan what appears to be a fond look, and then exits. In the hallway, she's fixing her shoes when a nearby door opens and Logan walks out. I'd suggest that Veronica run for it, but if this really was her first time, that might be a bit of a problem. Logan says there's something different about her. He comes close: "FYI, if the cuddling is the best part, he didn't do it right." Veronica refrains from so-thereing that the cuddling was actually pretty shitty. Actually, she doesn't say a word, which is interesting, since that's how she reacted the very first time we saw Logan be a jackass to her. Even the VMVO is silent. NN: We used up our quota. Logan spares a glance at Duncan's door and bails, not actually looking all that pleased with himself. As soon as he's gone, Veronica whips out her phone and calls the front desk. Heh. She gets connected to the room Logan came out of, and it seems to me Charisma answers, although there was debate in the forums about this. I don't really see how anyone could think it's not meant to be her, even if the voice sounded off. Not everyone's that skilled at ADR work. Duncan opens the door, still sans shirt, and it looks pretty likely that he ended up eating that whole plate of food last week and going back for seconds. He groggily asks why she didn't wake him, but she tells him she's got "about fifteen minutes till my dad activates the homing device in my molar." Well, given what she was likely up to before, I just hope it isn't attached to a camera. Duncan just grunts, so apparently their traditional gender roles are back to normal. Veronica takes off.
Beaver is asleep on the living-room couch in front of the TV. Big Dick and Charisma come home, and Big Dick sneaks over and them startles Beaver, causing him to spill a big bowl of popcorn all over. All Big Dick says is, "Gotcha," and then Charisma snidely adds that he needs to clean up the mess. Beaver is none too pleased, but starts to carry out the order. However, he finds a condom wrapper under the couch with "Live Large" printed on it. A lot of forum posters, no believers in deception in advertising, were thrilled. Beaver, on the other hand, just looks thoughtful.
Sheriff's office. The Woodman busts in to find Keith. He tells Keith to give him good news, and then makes a somewhat amusingly dismayed face as Lamb walks by. Heh. Keith, however, turns The Woodman down. The Woodman takes it pretty well, and shakes Keith's hand and leaves. Before Keith follows suit, however, he sees Jessie insistently pleading with Lamb to reopen her father's case, and Lamb completely blowing her off. Keith takes in the situation with a dark look on his face. That's not an expression that bodes well for his enemies.
Wallace and Jackie are waiting in the school parking lot. Jackie: "What are we doing?" Well, one of you is wrapping up a rather inauspicious debut episode full of shaky line readings and rookie overacting. But as a pair, you are, according to Wallace, "exercising patience." Across the lot, the blonde girl who was listening to that bimbo jabber about Cervando gets into her car, then gets out and reads the note stuck under the windshield wiper. Wallace waves to her and restrains Jackie from playing T-ball with the girl's head, and the girl comes over and asks if Wallace has her spark plugs. Wallace in turn asks for her insurance information; they trade up and the girl stomps off. Wallace opines that the girl won't know how to replace a spark plug, which I hope is less a sexist comment and more an indictment of this particular girl's skill set. Jackie says something about delivering her own brand of justice, only she does it with about eight different grating inflections. She's certainly got her own brand of wearing out her welcome down pat. Wallace tells her that the Spark Plug Girl isn't a student but a reporter, as we see campus security accost her and lead her away. Wallace tells Jackie that he likes his gratitude "in small doses. Spread out over time." Jackie takes the insurance info, gives Wallace a kiss, and says she may have to reevaluate her stance on nice guys. As Jackie gets into her car, Veronica appears and, none too pleased, asks Wallace who that was. When she hears Jackie's name, she responds, "Oh." Hee. But if this girl is supposed to be Veronica's bitchy rival, I think Veronica should be insulted. Then again, it's hard to act insulted when you're wearing a sweatshirt-and-cutoffs combination that brings to mind welding and Irene Cara.
Keith is grating cheese when Veronica arrives home and asks how The Woodman took the news. Keith tells her fine, because he's running. Veronica hugs him and says she feels safer already. Keith tells her she looks different. Veronica looks like she spoke too soon. VMVO says that Keith is sharp, but there's no way he can tell that she's had sex...right? She then apologizes to those of us who watched Buffy, because we've seen this scene before.
Beach. A body lies on the shore -- in fact, it's that of the Hawaiian-shirt votive-candle guy. Creepy, ethereal music plays as Lamb, examining the body, opens the guy's left hand to reveal "VERONICA MARS" written in what looks like black permanent marker. It's just too bad he didn't open the right hand to reveal "IS SMARTER THAN YOU." Nevertheless, DUN!
week: more Beaver, more Lamb, more Charisma. Also, Alicia! Yay!