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Logan wins an essay-writing contest and gets to be a deputy "mayor" for one week under Woody Goodman. He's not able to get Lamb fired, but he does at least steal his parking space. Neptune High's all abuzz about the Sadie Hawkins dance, at which Veronica takes keepsake couple photos, and the utterly irritated Logan and hilarious Gia Goodman take tickets. Wallace and Jackie fail at being friends, and Wallace ultimately dumps Jane for Jackie, who doesn't let his new lone-wolf status interfere with her image-rehabilitation plan, telling him to get lost. Mac is getting tired of waiting for some Beaver, and embarrasses his slow-blooming ass into dumping her after he won't even touch her boob on the night of the dance. Veronica asks Logan to dance in order to keep him from destroying the loquacious Gia, and they are...there are feelings of some kind. It's intense. Basically: Everybody on the entire show is now single, including Molly Fitzpatrick, because getting molested by your entire trashy family every day doesn't count.
In mystery world: Weevil enlists Veronica's help in nailing Thumper for Felix's murder, admitting that he beat up Curly (video of which, remember, is Thumper's main leverage) just to save him from the angry PCHers actually killing him. Veronica and Logan find the truck driver from the bridge, who's afraid to talk because of PCHer fear, but eventually comes around. Lamb finally issues a warrant on Thumper, and that's good for Logan. Meanwhile, Weevil gets Molly to tape her family basically admitting to the whole murder scheme. Impatient about Veronica's Lamb-related obstructions, and wanting revenge for the beloved Felix's death, Weevil sets up the Fitzpatricks to think that Thumper is holding out on them, cash-wise. They tie him up below a stadium due to be totally exploded. That's bad for Logan. And the investigation. Also for Thumper.
Woody Goodman is fifteen kinds of sketch about a video Logan found in his office, which was shot in his house during dinner, last fall before the incorporation scheme became an issue. He eventually tells Keith to stop investigating it and drops some lies, but doesn't have an angle on the Thumper creepiness yet. Honorary Deputy County Commissioner Logan Echolls pushes the plunger, the building comes down, Thumper dies horribly, and we end on Weevil, making his first confession in a long time. Ouch! Want more? The full recap starts right below!
So when Couch Baron and Wing Chun offered me the assignment this week, I admit I was still in catch-up mode, because everything on TV comes on at 9 on Wednesday, so I've been borrowing copies from friends. Which is actually a backhanded compliment, because this is the only show I can watch two, or three, or twenty episodes in a row without stopping and still feel good about life. Not that I'm endorsing any kind of "three arc mysteries per season" madness -- I wouldn't give up the emotional blowout of "A Trip To The Dentist," or the episode we're here to discuss, for anything. But either way, it's more satisfying than most shows, and I'll try to do better from now on. And anyway, I looked at the episode listing, did the math wrong, and thought I'd be recapping some episode (last week's, turns out) called "The Rapes Of Graff." Perfect, I thought: Yet another sub for my rich portfolio of recaps about fucked-up sexual abuse. (Quite how I've become TWoP's very own Tori Amos is a question for another day; I play the piano like those old videos of spiders weaving webs while on LSD.) Imagine my laughter, then, once Wing Chun helped me with the math and I realized I was actually doing an episode with the innocuous title of "Plan B." It sounded like this, the laughter: "Ha, ha, ha. Wheeew." Funny story, right? That's the thing: I don't know if my instincts were all that off. I think either the show has gotten a bunch more subtle and creepy, or...I have, and I'm just reading my own sudden shit into it. I'm going with Plan A on this one, though, because: DUDE.
Nasal English Teacher Lady intros us to the hilarious and important B Plot this week, all about how "Citizens! The big moment has arrived!" That makes me laugh, because every time there's voting, I walk around all day addressing everyone as "Citizen," for precisely the dorky reason this teacher is talking like this. So one lucky student, thanks to winning an essay-writing contest, will be interning at the offices of the "Mayor" as his Honorary Deputee for a week. And "as the grand finale," she reminds us very enthusiastically, "This lucky patriot will push the plunger for the demolition of Old Shark Field on Saturday!" And the lucky patriot? Why, Logan Echolls, of course. Logan, smarmy as anything, slowly lowers his magazine, complete with oleaginous grin: "I'm sorry...did somebody say my name?" She pins the winning essay to her bulletin board and dismisses the class.
Veronica -- why, girl? -- checks out the essay, is grossed out -- again, some more -- and fake-smiles over to Logan and all the Civics groupies gathered around him. I assume it's not just because of his accolades as a Man of Letters, and has more to do with (a) the breakup with poor stupid Hannah and (b) how Logan is smokin' hot. Veronica quotes Logan from the essay regarding how "Freedom, that's what it's all about, but talking about it and being it, that's two different things." Something so vague and silly it could only be said by Jack Nicholson. (Although it's interesting to note that the quote in the movie begins with "What you represent to them is freedom," which is interesting in light of how the whole point of Logan, or at least the Fake Logan he shows us, is all about being free to be Logan: scary and awesome and sad and enviable all at once; sociopaths are hot like that. Well-documented. But even sociopaths are also deeply wounded people, which explains the other side of the attraction. It would be so much easier if Logan really were a Bad Boy/bad person. Then you just hook him up with a tranny, laugh at the wreckage, and hope he doesn't go all Sarsgaard on anybody. "I thought you were coming to ask me to the Sadie Hawkins dance, not recite my prize-winning essay," he grins at Veronica. She tells him she's interested in neither, considering that he's lifting from Easy Rider, which he made her watch last summer. (And Hannah too, right? Sorry, V for Vanity, but thanks for playing.) And can I just say that I love the less-jump-than-hop that would cause Logan to love that movie? Silly fake bad-boys chundering on about their abusive fathers and how it makes them rebels? If not for the fact that, in Neptune, motorcycles are for poor people, Logan would so be up in that shit, and you know it. "I'm off to find America and write self-important poetry with Duncan." Logan admits that she's sounding a lot like his essay, and she's like, "Yeah, weird right?" and he smiles wisely as Veronica stalks off, all in a Logan-tizzy as usual.
Out in the courtyard, Weevil does some intense remembering about how he was bitching about Algebra III one time and Felix -- who, now that I can finally pin down which one he is, and I feel shitty admitting that but I know I'm not alone, and who has lovely eyebrows and so-so acting skills in this little flashback -- was like, "Fuck the future, I'm going to graduate with the least effort possible and then go to trucking school, where I will settle down with an unnamed young lady and crank out a couple of shorties." Poetic. Especially considering that he's saying this off Weevil's line about staying in school because the girls are hot and his abuela is scary. Weevil, in the flashback, cracks on him about how, in order to "crank out" those "shorties," he needs "a woman," and Felix has never had a girlfriend "longer than a weekend." Given what we've seen of Felix, as contrasted with his rubbery cuteness, that seems about right.
Back in real time, Weevil is sad about dicking Felix around all the time, and also about how Felix is dead. I always feel like I should make a Battlestar-style distinction between "Eli with a heart" and "Weevil with a hawg," because the saddest thing about that is how Veronica might be the only person who knows the difference. Well, that and his spontaneously exploding group of family members.
Nearby, Veronica is making nice with Wallace's girlfriend Jane about how the Sadie Hawkins is to be sponsored by the FBLA, and Jane waxes ecstatic that "dances are the best fundraisers." Veronica makes her first Veronica statement of the episode: "This face right here? My over-the-moon face." Jane laughs, and Veronica admits that she'll be working the dance. I can't shake this feeling that Veronica's cool as long as she owns Wallace, which is why she doesn't worry about Jane at all, or act weird around her, because...Jane is no Jackie. You know? The episode seems to agree. "You work it, girlfriend," says Wallace, desperate to be involved in this conversation, because Veronica talking to any girl he knows is tantamount to them talking about him as though he's not there, even if he is. Which: this show gets such good press about how it allows Veronica to be an asshole so much of the time, and I have to say I agree, but I'm always heartened to see the dynamic with Wallace explored in this way. I'm not going to go all "Bullshit! Bullshit!" about her treatment of him, because I think it's realistic given his Xander status with the ladies, basketball or no, and their relationship -- if he was a girl, she'd still be like that. Which I like, because it's a character thing and not a boy-girl thing, which makes it not a boy thing for Wallace, not emasculating or anything. Veronica clarifies that she'll be "workin' it" by taking "keepsake couples' photos." They all three giggle and bond, and Jane interjects that she is -- given it's a Sadie Hawkins -- still deciding between a "sweet band dork" and an "all-hands Nubian prince." And Veronica gives the only response a person could: "Oooh, tell me more about this...band dork!" Still with the cute and the smiles, and Jane goes for Wallace's cake, and he says she'll lose a hand if she tries it, and it's very nice and normal. So of course, I'm thinking Plan B is: Jane gets abducted and set on fire by the end of the episode -- I've been around the block in Neptune. But no. What happens is maybe worse, if you remember high school at all. I barely do, and I still feel for Jane.
Weevil summons Veronica with an eyebrow and tells her he needs her help. "Ahhh, if I had fifty bucks every time somebody said that..." she moans, and walks off .Not getting it, Weevil follows, getting shirty: "I know, it's hard to be you." And Veronica's like, "Um, I wasn't kidding? Duh?" He says he's banking on her curiosity, and they bluff like it's Jennifer Tilly's last night in Vegas. There's funny music, about fifty cuts back and forth, all very Clint Eastwood, and then Veronica is hilarious, hands-up, all: "Okay! Tell me! Damn my curiosity!" As though that could have ended any other way, but well played. Weevil: "Thumper killed Felix." She's like, "Great," but forgets how Lamb's Shit List is exactly as long as the number of people in the principality or commonwealth or parish or whatever the fuck Neptune is, and that Weevil's name is right below hers on it. He explains that Thumper has a video of Weevil beating the tar out of Curly on his cell phone, and admits that he didn't tell her all there was to know about that particular situation. "Shocker," says Veronica, whilst giving the BSA salute. Weevil -- this is so great, it feels improvised -- takes her fingers and arranges them in proper shocker formation, all, "I think that's Scout's honor..." Not exactly grateful for the Horrific Gesture workshop, Veronica stops him: "Not important. Moving on. Which parts did you skip?" Weevil tells her that he and other PCHers got an anonymous call that Curly was the guy who sent the bus over the cliff, in order to "take out Cervando for hustling Lee and Fitzpatrick out of a few grand." Short flashback to Weevil beating up Curly, who protests that he knows who it was that set the whole thing up. Weevil tells Veronica that his "boys" wanted to throw Curly off a cliff, and that by beating the shit out of him -- hence the video -- he was actually saving Curly's life. And Veronica does her usual: "Did you see my name on his palm?" She feigns shock when he says no, and he cracks that Curly was wearing a cameo necklace with her image. That's funny. Weevil lays it out, in a way you might not take seriously at this moment but will learn to, that Thumper's going down, the law or Weevil will be taking care of him post-haste, and he advises Veronica to help him to get proof for this if she wants it "done right."
Into a weirdly lit study hall, where Wallace and Jackie are dangerously flirting, and giggling that Jackie's dad got shot at and put on suicide watch and will soon be going from the booby hatch to jail. So funny! Wallace asks, leering slightly, whether she's okay in that "great big house, all alone," and she fills in the obvious blanks of stuff Wallace doesn't know about Jackie. Namely, that when her mom was getting wrinkly and foresaw the ending of her modeling career, she switched careers to "landing a man," and the kind of man you generally target there is into traveling and being super-cool, and not so much cute kids like young Jackie. She wasn't "supposed to be around," she says, inching up the "no more Haterade once the dunking booth goes down" bar just a tad father. Jackie says that "being alone is like normal." Aww. I always liked that girl. Wallace offers that "even Superman leaves his Fortress of Solitude once in a while," and offers to make...er, hang out with her some time. The teacher asks if they're clear on the study-hall concept, and Jackie smarts off, "I think I know this one..." It's really just a pretext for her and Wallace to smile cutely at each other some more. Oh, Jane. I don't know who I'm more afraid for!
Beaver and Mac stare up at the Sadie Hawkins banner, and he sighs loudly. She asks about the particulars of his damage, and he says dramatically that he's just standing there wondering why Mac's ashamed of him. Like Dick's continued emasculation would somehow have an effect on Mac. "...It's the age thing," he continues. "Me and my full blush of youth, you and your advancing years..." She smacks him, well done Mac, and reminds him that she's standing in the hallway holding his hand, and calls him a "dorkwad." They are so lame and made for each other. Beaver looks up, all yearning, and requests her continuing approval and love like a kicked puppy. Mac: "Fine. You wanna go to the big dance, Cassidy?" In a very funny, very dorky voice. Man, I thought -- knew -- I liked Tina Majorino and Amanda Seyfried, but have you seen Big Love? That show rocks so fucking hard, and they're right there in the middle, both of them blowing it out of the water. It is so great that Majorino, especially, is getting recognition. "Yes," Beaver replies, "and if it blows as much as I think, we can cut right to the good stuff." Mac reacts with fake surprise, because she knows how it is, with the sex and the high school of it all, and Beaver laughs fakely. "Pizza Quest '06! Get your mind out of the gutter!" That's...not funny. Considering he led her directly toward a place that was specifically not pizza, it's kind of like he was lying in wait around the "you're a whore" corner of the conversation. We'll see.
Veronica pursues Logan across the front area of the school, but he protests that he can't be late for his first day with Woody Goodman. He tells her to call the County Courthouse, unnecessarily reminding her that he's the Honorary Assistant Deputy "Mayor" or whatever. She says that she has something she needs him to do, and he responds, "Ask not what Logan can do for you..." Veronica and I agree that the whole poli-sci quote thing is going to get really old soon if he keeps it up, but in a tone that kind of redeems it. Very much in line with the whole "daily quote" thing, which of course is my personal touchstone for the character. "Let me know," Logan grins. "Until then, I'll be speaking softly and carrying a big stick." Aww, Logan just can't quit with his best friend. So sweet. Veronica grabs his keys, and not his nuts like I would have, and asks him again about Felix's murder. For which he's still the guy: "The whole 'Dead Felix" business has lost its intrigue. When something stops being important to me, my memory gets a little fuzzy." He waits a beat, but you know what's coming: "...Wait, who are you?" Veronica explains to him (and me) in small words, again, what's on the table right now: "If Thumper did do it, he's going to get away with killing Felix, framing [Logan], taking over the PCH Bike Club, and cornering the high-school drug trade." She thinks a moment and drives it home: "We should invite him to speak at FBLA!" Logan reiterates that it's not his problem, and she asks if he's remembered anything about the real, not fake, 911 caller. He thinks, and then snots fakely: "Mexican dude. Driving a truck. Bumper sticker. 1-800-EAT...something..." Veronica gives him his keys back, but if you know Logan, you know he's realest at his fakest: he takes off, shouting over his shoulder that it was a San Diego Seafood truck, and that he'd probably know the guy if he saw him. Veronica stands there, remembering the Fake Logan rule once again.
Woody Goodman. Still giving me the all-over shudders. He says to his telephone that "Father Fitzpatrick has blown this way out of proportion," and mentions the facts in favor of incorporation, again: more law enforcement immediately, the eventual bounce-back of property values...And then Furonda from America's Top Model shows up, ranking somewhere between Kim and Naima on the ANTM-Suck Scale, but to be fair, she's a lot closer to Kim. She also looks way less weird, prettier here than she usually does on her show, and that's an accomplishment. I wonder if she gave Woody a list of how she would and would not prefer to be treated, on her first day. I wonder if he did something gross with that list, because all I see when I look at Woody is creepy stuff I don't even know about because I don't spend a lot of time on the internet. Furonda tells Woody that the intern has arrived, and he asks her, "Beverly," to get some photographers or whatever for the PR.
Woody's jaw drops just a bit when he sees that the intern is Logan, but to be fair, they're kind of alike in a lot of ways. They shake, and Woody's all, "Great essay," but quickly tells Bev to cancel his last request for the PR, because Logan is a famous fuck-up now, instead of just being the child of a couple of them. Bev's like, "Um, okay?" and gives Woody a Bible to swear Logan in for his fake job. I wonder if Logan will spontaneously...oh, Logan makes the joke instead of me, hissing and pulling back as though it's burned him. He apologizes to Woody, all kinds of flirty, swears in quickly, and then runs off to fire Sheriff Lamb. Bev and Woody laugh like he's not deadly serious, but Logan's funny/scary ratio isn't something you can pick up right away. Woody brings up the incorporation, since it's all he ever wants to talk about, and Logan gives a funny and very off-the-cuff speech about how he so supports the incorporation, will put his considerable [negative!] weight behind it, and wants to take it so far as to erect a wall around the entirety of Neptune, possibly to keep Lamb inside, although he doesn't say that directly. He offers to visit some community centers and sell them on the whole fascist idea of walling up Neptune, but even Woody knows when he's getting joked with, so he doesn't email Logan with a lot of exclamation points. They are very smiley with each other. It is scary. They are two scary men, Logan and Woody, and if you think about how scary, you probably will freak out. Woody asks Logan -- before mounting the revolution -- if he'd start by separating the bins of mail into pro- and anti-incorporation piles, and while Logan would prefer to see Beverly do it, she smartly offers him a letter opener, and Woody goggles and grins at him: "Beats selling burgers at a Woody's, right?" Logan's like, "I wouldn't know, you're the one who's served twenty billion." Dirty! Logan winks (Too dirty! Reverse your current dirtiness vector before it's too late!) and Woody gives him some finger guns. The first time I watched this, I thought, "They should have their own show!" and the second time I watched it, I thought, "I've seen their own show, and it was so scary I took it back to the porn store, and was still shaking as I asked for my cash back!"
Bev leaves Logan, now quite pissy, alone with the mail bin, and Keith enters. (Hi!) Beverly is very friendly with him, and I just assume that she's immediately going to start rattling at him about the incorporation, but instead, she notifies Woody that Keith's here. Keith: "Logan, is that you?" Of all the fathers across whose brain the image of Logan Echolls is emblazoned, Woody Goodman fucking included, you'd think Keith wouldn't need the second opinion. Logan corrects him, explaining that he's the Honorary Deputy County Commissioner, Viscount de Mayorburg and the Outlying Provinces in America and San Diego, Prince of the Movie Star Freakout Horrible Parenting Dead Girlfriend Territories, or whatever, and Keith fake-laughs as Woody calls him in, all hail-fellow-well-met. Poor Keith. Just seeing Logan blows his mind, and not in the cool way.
Woody picks up where Keith's man-crush kind of deflated, all about keeping focus on saving "The Greatest Shark To Ever Put On A Uniform," and Keith mentions that Terrence's latest awesome activities have included breaking into Naima's parents' house. I love how they always say "Miss Dumas," like they know the "Dumbass" thing is my personal keystone to the whole house of cards of keeping these dead bastards separate. Woody and Keith talk intensely about Terrence's "quality of character," and then Logan -- summoned like a genie by such words -- appears, quite sober, with something "you gentlemen should probably see." But since it's Logan, it's either the secret to the entire season, or some other thing that is very civic-minded, or...a Xerox of his ass. Those are your options.
Over Logan's shoulder, Keith and Woody watch a DVD from the mail pile, showing some very creepy Lost Highway footage of the Goodmans' house. It travels down the creepy hall with all the creepy storage bins, across creepy glass door to the creepy patio -- wouldn't that normally be where the reflection could be magnified and reveal the killer or stalker or whatever? -- and a very cool '60s starburst clock, and into the creepy but spacious dining room, where the horrifying-in-an-unspecified-way Goodman family is having a tense and silent dinner. Soo creepy! Even if it wasn't the Goodmans, it would still be creepy! Woody's wigged and Keith immediately reassures him that he'll "find out about it." Logan red-herrings the second-best misdirection of the episode: "So I'm guessing this goes into the anti-incorporation file." Um. They nod.
Later, Veronica and Logan are staking out the San Diego Seafood place where the Good Samaritan 911-calling trucker works. "So this is staking out, huh?" Logan accidentally O.C.s. Hate when that happens! "...Looks sexier in the movies," he finishes. Like it could. Veronica pointedly asks whether he's heard from Hannah, and he's not entirely without vulnerability asking whether "deafening silence" counts. Which I guess means that "dumb high-school girly unearned and undeserved forgiveness" doesn't count either. But I guess Veronica knows about that already. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she and Logan were playing First Date every weekend since the beginning of the season and we didn't know about it. I don't trust her ass anymore, not after "Normal Is The Watchword" and "Donut Run." Not in a bad way: I like that the show might just be like, "Oh, and she's been fucking the pool boy, FYI" in a few episodes. She's fallible, as a narrator as well as a bad-ass, and I love it. Veronica grins to herself: "Not sure? But I think when they start shipping your girlfriends off, you're officially...a bad boy." She holds her palm up for a high five, and he returns the serve. That is probably my favorite part of the episode. She runs with wolves, and I don't mean in the menstrual way -- that too -- but just in that "I appreciate where you're coming from, Weevil, but let's try this due process thing first and then you can murder whoever you like" kind of way. I respect her more for joking with Logan about the Hannah issue, because it's clearly a huge gash across Logan's desire to be a good person while being a well-played bluff at the same time, and Veronica's intimate with both. "Her dad and your dad should go bowling," Logan murmurs, pointedly bringing Veronica back into the post-breakup spotlight, but they spot the guy.
Veronica approaches the truck driver and says, in her version of diplomacy, that they're "hoping to" ask him about the incident last May on the Coronado Bridge. He gruffly shoves them off with an "If there were an incident, I'd remember it," but Veronica obliquely calls his attention to the boy he saved, asking over her shoulder whether Logan's sure this is the guy. "Your route would take you over the bridge," she offers, and he breathes: "You know my route. You know where I live? Forty-third and Euclid. I got PCHers riding up and down my street day and night." They are halfway to understanding, because they're nowhere in the vicinity, no matter how much poor-girl whining Veronica does. "Now, if I was on the bridge that night, and if I saw what went down, a guy like me -- who's got a wife and a five-year-old daughter -- I think he's better off keeping his mouth shut." Compelling, no? Logan's not seeing that side of the discussion, pointing out that by covering his ass (not to mention the familial collective ass), he's made seven months of Logan's life "hell." Seafood Truck Guy rocks it: "Here's another way of looking at it: if I stopped and chased off the bikers and called 911, I'd be the guy who saved your life." I don't know that I would keep pushing at that point, because: word, but this is Logan: "I was planning on sending a fruit basket...from prison!" Trucker is like, "Yeah, I think the rich white son of a movie star is going to be okay," and gets in his truck while Logan scoffs. I like so, so much how this is what it comes down to: "I've got my circumstance, you've got yours," and nobody's going to be less than totally resentful after being told that one rates higher than the other. But, like, it's not like you can reasonably expect any side to give in and be like, "Yeah, sucks to be you. Guess I'll go to jail/get my kids killed." I like questions, but especially the ones you can't really answer. Even Perfect A+ Citizen Echolls, with his selflessness and his "freedom" and whatnot.
Veronica and Weevil meet up in the parking lot at school, and she lets him know that they found the real, non-plastic surgeon witness, but that he's basically worthless -- "Not a big fan of the PCHers," she grits. Weevil admits, humorously, that their "popularity's really gone downhill" without him, and Veronica tells him that, by her count, they're back at "bupkes." He tells her to "count again," because he's got another angle: Molly Fitzpatrick. He says this like it's new info, and I don't know how that could be, because don't we all four, you and me and Veronica and Weevil, know the A to Z of Felix and Molly? With the racism and the homogony and the creepy Irish-Catholic hooliganism that's never so virulent as on the TV? Or is this exposition for the Jacobs in the audience watching at home? Weevil: "The Fitzpatricks were using their plastic surgeon [Hannah's dad] to pin Felix's murder on Logan. Know what that says to me?" I'm sure I don’t completely understand Veronica's answer, because if she's saying what I think she's saying, I'd slap her just slightly in the face, and damn the consequences: "Tougher immigration laws?" And I don't mean that in a judgmental, pearl-clutching way; I mean it literally: I don't know what she means. "No," says Eli: "Thumper did the deed, but the orders came from the supplier." Probably as a rider on their business together. So but doesn't that wrap it up? The Fitzpatricks took care of it? "But why Felix?" asks Veronica, and I guess I really did get my wires crossed about where everybody was at with the plot, because as we all know and Eli now explains, Molly and Felix were sneaking around and dreaming a star-crossed truck-driving kind of forever love, or as Weevil puts it, "trucking their brains out." Veronica breathes this in: "Good golly, Miss Molly." Weevil tells Veronica more stuff we knew, about how if her family found out, they'd both get killed, and Veronica is like, "Maybe they found out," and both we and Weevil, for once, are several steps ahead: "Maybe they were told." I love how my whole brain is going into meltdown because we finally found/figured out one damn thing before Veronica did. How hilarious: "It's like, I can't believe it!" Like I've gotta create some elaborate head-injury scenario about Veronica's omniscience, or else my world will come crashing down. Although it's worth noting, in all fairness, that Lianne is the umeboshi in this scenario of Veronica's omniscience, forevermore. Aww.
Neptune High hallway, where Mac snags Veronica and immediately offers a "preemptive apology" for the conversation they're about to have. I hope that extends to me, because I so do not want anything less than strictly above-board awesomeness for Mac and Beaver, on a personal and relationship level. Although I guess the sparse but intense cuteness there kind of means they're due for a blasting. Mac: "Beaver and I occasionally make out." Instead of doing six Hail Marys and saying she's made her peace with that, like I did, Veronica hmms in that way she has: "I made out once, back in the day. I think he had me pinned up against a woolly mammoth," leaning up against her locker to pantomime. Mac admits that she's not an expert, but isn't it true that, after four months, dating a typical high-school boy, there would be some under-the-bra action? Firstly, trade "months" for "minutes." Secondly, stop right there, Majorino. Because I know that one in three Neptune students is either gay or highly open to the possibility, but not my little Cassidy. Not only would that mean his total dissolution -- I've seen how the seedy gay Neptune High subculture deals with its own -- but also, as stated, I'd lose the office pool on Dick Casablancas, because you know one of them is, but it's pushing it to say both. So just like that, I've got fitty bucks riding on Cassidy Casablancas being horribly abused all of a sudden, in the quick click of a pause button, and that's eighteen kinds of horrible, because you don't want hateful people having to go through that, much less lovely people like the Beav. Which I guess could be the point. It makes me want to go on a vigilante spree through the streets of Neptune, Passover marks on every Boatloads of Fun front door just for fucking starters, and we're exactly four lines into the scene. Actually, though, the superhero talk is clearly just cover for the fact that it makes me want to cry just thinking about it and I don't want this to be happening in any way regardless of the truth or what happens , because it's awful enough thinking about this stuff happening to either of the brothers, frankly, even as an aside, and this season seems to lead inexorably forward into horrible, horrible, horrible. Which is, I know, how the whole show started, so I'm not walking in blind, but God that's tough. Am I just inventing sexual abuse because I assume that, since I'm recapping this week, we're going to have boatloads of it? Jokes aside, gay Cassidy's a lot easier to take. The RAINN jokes aren't coming so fast and easy all of a sudden.
Veronica lightly offers to consult her Idiot's Guide To Wanton Behavior, clearly not sensing my urgency. Tell Mac Beaver got his dick blown off in 'Nam, Veronica! You know things! Know the why of this! Mac's sad. Veronica: "Basically, you're asking because I'm the sluttiest girl you know?" Mac smiles ruefully: "'Slutty' is your word choice. Mine was 'worldly.'" Veronica tacitly agrees to pretend Mac's problem matters, and they go through the checklist: hand-holding, kissing, tongue ("Some tongue"), ass-grabbing ("Brushed some dog hair off my pants."). I can't be the only person who went there with this, can I? Because that kind of makes me the freak, actually, if I am. Veronica assures Mac that it's "not so much bad," but agrees that it's "out of the ordinary." Mac heads to Bargaining: "Veronica, I really like him -- we have so much fun..." Veronica, like this isn't the 09, tells her to stop worrying about it: "Yeah, it's weird, but..." Oh, the long trail-off. Who is your heart breaking for right now? They are sad and silent, and Mac takes off with a "that's what I thought." I'm so "And that's how Old Yeller ended" right now. Not my Cassidy. And even if, it's not like I'd...look, being queer is fucking awesome. Go Team Kristin! Seriously, though. You get to kiss whoever you want, for starters, which rocks. Boys are wicked good for kissin', and also girls are too. But I've heard -- my high-school existence was not normal -- I understand and believe that it often sucks beyond the telling of it. So either way, Beaver's in trouble. You set up the innocents (yeah, yeah, Dick and Rashomon and Kendall and real estate and all that, but come on) and you knock them down, and that's how you prove that it all counts. I get it. I just don't want it right now, thanks.
Speaking of innocence fucked over, Weevil slams a toy truck down on Molly's lunch table, and of course she looks around like, "I for sure don't normally converse with minorities, y'all, this is highly out of the ordinary," even though nobody cares, but how would she know that? Weevil accuses her of six counts of being with a guy who wanted to settle down and have "rugrats" and being in a horrible family from which she can't escape, wigging, "Too bad your family put him in the ground." She explains, at about a 3 on the hysterical scale Weevil's about to recalibrate like the SAT's, that Felix got stabbed on a bridge, and there were no Fitzpatricks around at the time. She gives kind of the mission statement of the season, classism-wise -- that, "Logan Echolls or the PCH," it's just the same scum with a different wardrobe. Which connects thematically, with the whole incorporation deal, but still doesn't answer the one question I'll still have in a half-hour, and Weevil presses her about how the plastic surgeon guy, Griffith, was both the key witness and under her uncle Liam's thumb. He clarifies, using "I" statements, that it "pisses him off" that loving Molly cost Felix his entire, one-eyebrowed life, while Molly seems to give less than a tinker's damn. (No, that's not a racist Irish Gypsy joke, don't email me.) She protests that she loved Felix, and Weevil gets right up ballistic in her face and screams, "NO, I LOVED HIM!" I don't know who I love more in this moment, Weevil or Francis Capra, because that was fucking beautiful. Everybody (and by "everybody," I mean "a shitload of white people") nearby stops and stares. "And you can tell, because I'm the one that cares enough to keep trying to find out who killed him." Which -- I sympathize, and not just because that was the best acting of the episode, especially considering that it was the most outré line in the whole script -- but...you both know who killed him, and you both have for quite a while, and neither of you can do anything with that info, so stop lashing out at the girl who had the bad sense to date him, Eli. Logan got almost an entire season of sympathy when his girlfriend got murdered, you know? It best earns the episode's ending of anything, and all this jibber-jabber of mine is just a way to avoid talking about that particular knot of gross, so I guess well played there as well. But dude, lay off Molly. She's got a lot of shit on her plate, as we'll see.
Like you were getting a Jacob recap under nineteen pages. You're so cute! In other news, some giant boobs walk by, back in study hall. They're attached to a girl. Oglers include: everybody, but my stupidity kicked in because I didn't recognize Charlie, or the Freaks & Geeks revision about to happen. Best episode of that show, best Jackie scene yet, and I totally didn't get it. I assume, because it's Veronica Mars, that this Charlie has been in eighteen episodes and I never once noticed -- even if it was a major plot point -- that he was developmentally disabled, but that's how I roll. (And, you know, I could easily not point out all the ways in which I rely on this show to intuitively make up for my ADD, but I'm making a conscious choice to let you know how dumb I am. I think it's sweet, personally.) So this knot of boys is all hyuck-hyuck about the boobs, and pushing Charlie to ask out the faceless girl attached to them, as Jackie and Wallace are having another bad-idea conversation about how Wallace was checking out the boob girl, and really he just likes her sweater, because any time trouble rears its head, Wallace retreats to the gay fashion place, and how that color would look good on Jackie, because there's no bad color for Jackie, flirty-flirty, because she's soooo beautiful, with which I tend to agree because she's so pretty and I can't think of anything to hate her for, and Wallace flips back to dude quick as a shot, all, "Any time a hot girl wants to wear a tight sweater with a zipper down the middle, I'm game," and in that time the boys have made their weird frat attack on Charlie unavoidable (unless you're me), and Jackie excuses herself and plants directly in front of Charlie: "Hi Charlie, I'm Jackie. Would you like to go to the dance with me this weekend?" The mean boys all wig out. Since I wasn't getting it, my notes read, "Some dude acts all like Leo in Gilbert Grape and agrees." Which is a total thumbs up on the acting, frankly, because even with that in my notes, he wasn't so over-the-top that I got it. He just acts like a mainstreamed kid. So Charlie takes off, and this totally hot kid preps a spitwad, for Jackie or Charlie I'm not sure, and Wallace tells him right off. Yeah, the "Jackie is awesome" campaign is a bit tough to take sometimes, but Wallace is about to need all the goodwill he can muster, so I don't care which. I think it's Charlie, though, because that means that Wallace is making his support of Jackie's plan to take Charlie to the dance explicit, which makes the most sense. Question: who shoots spitwads at the mainstreamed kid? God, I hate 09ers.
Something horrible and fucked up now happens. I did not fucking make this up, even though, honestly, I myself would assume that I did if my notes didn't say otherwise. Logan's poking around in Woody's office, and sets up what I'm assuming is a largish plot point in the near future when he finds Woody's signature stamp and tests it out on a legal pad. Woody comes into his own office knocking, all smiles as usual, and says, in a way that pings my Spidey-sense, "Bet I know what you need right about now." That's one check mark, because I'm willing to think that I am weird enough about Logan that I'm seeing shit that's not there. One.
Cut to the Courthouse workout room, where Woody asks for a spot. That's two. Like I said, it's not the thing that's weird, just the feeling I have. It's all on me, I admit that. Two. Logan is wearing an argyle sweater, so it's possible that he will Type IV Fake murder Woody, I guess, but Duncan with the former-fat-kid upper-body intensity is kind of Three, even in absentia, if this is going where my Spider vibes say they are. They talk about the demolition ceremony, how Logan is maybe "excited" but more like "nervous" and probably needs somebody to "walk [him] through it." (Um, Four through Six, and I no longer think I'm being a perv. I honestly expected Couch Baron to drunk-dial me at this exact moment and be like, "Fucker!" But on the other hand, Omar, Tom Welling,andMichael Rosenbaum got me on a conference call right then, all, "Get out of there!") In retrospect, I think it's more than anything a testament to my faith in Logan Echolls that I automatically saw this line as his turning point from "Bwuh?" to "I got your Good Will Hunting number so bad, you fucking nasty old goat," but only time will tell. "Walk me through it" my ass. But of course, he's got a spare punch line in there as well: "Push down, right?" Not touching that. He's talking about the bomb plunger, and that's all. Bomb plunger. Oh God! I hate when everything you say is dirty like bad Monty Python sketches! That shit used to happen all the time with Anthony Federov! I still have nightmares!
And it's not getting better: this last line causes Woody to giggle uncontrollably, and Logan has to help him to get the bar back on the rack (For some reason, even though I knew going in that we were liable to have this kind of scene, this is where my notes decide to say, verbatim: "girlthis is weird please make it stop". My computer's name is Giles, but I call him "Girl" in these types of situations. I don't know. Now's not the time.) Woody ("Woody"? Nothing is safe!) stares at Logan as voraciously as a Guttenburg can, which is...more than we might think. As though spontaneously, I remember this movie where he was a medical resident and all the girls were after him, and also he was the cutest of the Three Men, but like, that's MORE confusing, not less, as he's saying, "You know, looking at you...reminds me of the good old days, when I was young, and...ripped..." Woody Goodman reaches out and feels Logan. Feels Logan Echolls! Like a piece of meat! Just feels him! "Bet you have some fun with the ladies, huh?" Full-body shudders. Did you ever see that Far Side where the Reptile Exhibit guy finally succumbs to a twenty-year accumulated attack of the Willies? Yeah. Then Woody Goodman fucking giggles again. I admit I jumped the gun with Beaver's whole abuse scenario, but I am not making this up. My stuff turned inside-out trying to get away from this scene. Gah! Boooogedy blah! Eurghh hoo-hoo! Hackity hoo! Blehhhgarghramapoppoppopwheeyarg! EEEEEEEEEbooogedy! Yikes! Forever!
...and just when you think Roy Scheider has effectively tap-danced the fear out of the water, cut to the disgusting Fitzpatricks, hanging out in that bar of which they are the bosses. From NAMBLA back to RAINN in one hot second. I cannot catch a fucking break with this show! Molly's playing with the toy truck at the bar, and the scary Liam one -- as shamefully and grossly hot as he was on The O.C., when he was Uncle Jack Harper, linked above -- who is her uncle, yells at her to grab him a beer while he plays at billiards with his...something, his cousin. Or hers, or something, I can't be arsed to do the family trees of white trash. Danny Boyd. Who -- after Liam gets creepy about the haste with which the beer isn't coming -- throws his arm over the shoulder in the universal signal of "We Are An Incest-Type Family," asking after her dommage. She lies that she's "pissed" that Logan's supposed to be in jail for murder, and, since nobody's punched her in the mouth yet, goes on to gingerly ask why Dr. Griffith withdrew his testimony: "Why did he lie?" Liam gets all scary uncle about why should Molly give a rat's ass (my emphasis, and weirdly, the show's too, this season) about a dead biker. Molly covers that she just never trusted Dr. Griffith, and Liam gets very aggressive, and not like an uncle would, saying that she had better not be "pining over that half-breed cholo," and she stupidly snaps at him not to call Felix that, and Liam goes into full-bore scary-uncle mode. I refuse to reference Peter Saarsgard twice in this recap, but yeah. It's bad: "Don't you dare cry for him. After all those things he said?...He did to you? You were his whore! He didn't care about you! You're just the dumb blonde piece of tail he shot his mouth off about to all his buddies. How he plugged the Good Ship Molly-Pop." Ugh. I would frankly rather see Woody Goodman and Logan dry-docking than have to deal with this. This is a show that pops your blister and says, "Oh, but underneath! Look, cancer!" Danny laughs inappropriately at the "Molly-Pop" line, and Liam goes after him, which is kind of counter to how gross this is, but Danny keeps laughing. I feel bad for Molly, but I wish they would all get blown up for good. Over a shot of a truck outside -- where Weevil and Veronica watch a computer screen -- Molly's wired, which I was glad to learn -- we act out on Liam doing his best to stop being hot: "You should be glad he's dead. If your dad wasn't in prison, he'd have done it himself."
Chez Mars, Weevil and Veronica discuss how they're in yet another mirror-to-mirror infinite regress blackmail pickle, because even still, with this tape of Molly's family being icky and almost confessing without a fucking warrant, Thumper still has the Curly video of Weevil beating up a later-dead guy. Veronica's like, "So he was killed for bragging about his sex life?" Weevil explains how boys are, and how he was lying, specifically to wind up Liam by implying that a female relative of his is a whore, that she'll "do anything"...and Keith enters, calling Weevil "Eli." They nod and whatever, guy stuff, and Keith just gives in, hands-off, about how Weevil and Veronica are probably working on some school thing, and Veronica says it's a history exam on Caligula ("Whew"), which seems very last-season to me -- didn't Caligula fuck his sister and get pretty gay with his buddies? "Caligula Run."
Look, I need all the laughs I can get, given that this episode is quickly heading into the usual territory. Sacks shows Weevil and Veronica into Lamb's office, and Lamb shows up, all screaming at Sacks unnecessarily and entitledly, and complaining that "somebody" took his parking space, "again." Sacks says that they received a letter -- from the new deputy commish -- that it's needed: "I guess he's handicapped." And I guess that Sacks isn't really spending the time to investigate further, heh. Still keeping Sacks on the leash, Lamb looks past smiling Veronica to Weevil: "Look up Eli Navarro -- there's gotta be something outstanding we can book him on." Weevil's , funny line brought to you by terrible, awful ADR: "Oh, if I did it, it's outstanding." Lamb smiles at Veronica -- and it's part of the awesomeness of this season's three interlocking mysteries (Veronica's Bus, Logan's Stabbing, Weevil's Life) that I can't remember if these three have been in the same room, lately or ever -- and smarms that she's still picking winners. Veronica: "I told you, when I start picking losers? It's all you." I think Lamb's an interesting character, but I'm still waiting for when she shoots him in the fucking spine and tells his quad ass to "go see the wizard." She tells him with a tight smile that they just "thought [they'd] drop by and solve a murder case" for him. Playing dumb, he thanks her for bringing the perp, and asks who the deceased in question might be. No time for Lamb nonsense: "Eduardo Orozco killed Felix." "Thumper...He's got such a cute nickname," Lamb sparkles. Weevil says that Thumper's "dealing on campus now," and Veronica, not interested in shit that doesn't have to do with herself, plays the wiretap for Lamb, all, "Liam practically admits to orchestrating Felix's death on this tape." They listen, and Lamb's eyebrows freak out but that's all of him that cares: "Imagine how helpful that recording would be if it was obtained legally...not to mention a confession." And yeah, I see your point, but so does my girl Veronica: "Note the absence of a silver platter." She slides the disk across Lamb's desk like he's below noticing, because it's more about "steering" Lamb in the direction of his fucking job, rather than doing it for him. He slides it back: "Actually...getting admissible evidence seems like the least you can do." Poor doomed Weevil shakes his head as Veronica realizes what a fucking twat Lamb is, for the 147th time. "There's less I can do, trust me," he says. I don't think it's strictly racism, either -- this mystery has so many snaky, nasty little roots that Lamb could probably name five people in high places who don't want him to solve it. Yucky.
Walking out, Weevil's all wigging: "An 09er could come in here with tea leaves and a ouija board, and they'd send a SWAT team. Time for Plan B." Veronica knows what he means, which is that the hypothetical accused would be a minority, and says it's not time for Plan B "just yet, Dirty Harry." He points out that, in case Veronica hasn't yet noticed his intense ethnicity, he's no "mick cop." So Veronica revises his nickname to "Dirty Sanchez." Which: first of all, fucking gross. And second of all, four words: Actor-Producer Dan Etheridge. I bet you one hundred dollars. "Just give me a few more hours," Veronica asks. Should have begged, Veronica. "Luck might be a lady tonight." Weevil says that patience isn't one of his "virtues." Weevil, we know. Don't.
Keith comes into Woody's office looking all private investigational-like. He shows Woody how the awesome clock in the creepy Lost Highway DVD shows the time at 5:30 PM, even though it was a pretty dark Cali evening. So? "This video was shot in November or December," long before Woody went public with the incorporation bullshit: "We're barking up the wrong tree. question is...got another tree?" Um, he's got a fucking orchard? Obviously? From second one? Over Keith's questioning about people that might want to rattle him, Woody stands and clearly gets his sketch on about "let me think about this" and lights a cigar. Keith tells him to take his time, because -- total lie -- "sometimes these things aren't easy to recall." As a person without enemies, I think that's probably true. But then, even casting the widest net, I am not as creepy as Woody Goodman, so who knows.
Sadie Hawkins Dance! Jackie waves at Charlie -- and his mom -- and those of us slow on the uptake finally figure out that all is not developmentally baseline with old Charlie. Mom thanks Jackie profusely, and she says it's her pleasure, and Veronica -- whose job as photographer affords her optimal cast placement to swan all over the eighteen subplots brewing here -- asks Charlie how he's managed to snag "the sexiest girl in school." He replies simply that she asked, and he said yes, and Veronica only slightly condescends that "they always want the bad boys." But then, I guess in any conversation about the "bad boys," Veronica has a vested interest in the illusion that she's the smartest kid in the room.
Gia Goodman and Logan sit at the FBLA table, taking tickets. Logan sleazes to an attendee that "if she's a two at 10, she'll be a ten at 2," a phrase with which I'm not familiar, maybe because I sadly don't know how to drive, but I can certainly see using, and often. Alcohol is wonderful! Gets people laid! Gia dorks out, as usual, and is totally adorable, as usual if you like that sort of thing, and I do: "This is 'cool,' huh? It would've been 'cooler' to have like a 'date' but I'm 'proud' of my 'self' having come alone -- it's kind of 'cool,' like I'm evolving." Logan hears none of this, and if he did, all he would hear is: nothing whatsoever.
Outside the Fitzpatrick church, you can hear the organ playing. A bike pulls up, and Thumper gets off and removes his helmet. A hand etherizes him, and he's dragged into the street as creepy little kids watch from inside a van. Weevil removes an envelope of money from his jacket: "Enjoy Confession." But confession is where Thumper hands over the drug money! If he shows up without money, the Fitzpatricks are going to think he...oh. Oh, Eli.
Beaver and Mac get way "romantic," if by "romantic" you mean "super-uncomfortable and not romantic at all." One of them says that no matter how much crepe paper they toss, the gym is still not a "garden paradise," and the other one says that he or she is "having a moment here," and requests a little imagination. I don't guess it matters which, though, because: "GARDEN PARADISE"? Scary things happen when you leave those. Flaming swords and brambles and shit, and like, homelessness and agriculture and beasts of burden. And sex.
Jane and Wallace dance boringly and she lets on that, at the ripe old age of seventeen, her parents have finally decided to give her The Talk. Wallace is not paying attention, because he's looking at Jackie with Charlie, and trying to do the math on the last time he screwed up his own life, without outside forces intervening. Jane calls him back, and he admits that his was a one-word Talk: "Don't." They laugh.
Gia: "...My dad likes having you at work, he says you've got potential -- I think that was the word..." Logan laughs that "potential" was "the word," but that "underachiever was the sentiment." She laughs, ready to talk some more now that Logan's said a sentence, in case we forgot what is going to happen at the end of this episode that sounds really stupid but is apparently totally important because somebody mentions it in every scene. "The demolition ceremony's going to be fun are you nervous what if you push the plunger and nothing happens?" (Not making a "happens to guys all the time, Woody" joke. Not doing it. That was creepy enough on its own.) "Like total silence?" asks the completely exasperated Logan. "Let's try to imagine it..." Veronica spots them and takes a picture, but doesn't approach just yet, because Logan doesn't have his brass knuckles out yet.
Charlie's mom approaches the very much enjoying themselves Jackie and Charlie and says it's time for Charlie to go. Because of the tension that's been ramping up, you might think it's time for Charlie's wig-out, but he just says a sweet goodbye, and Jackie kisses him. Aww. Wallace watches her leave after him, offers to get Jane a refreshing beverage, and chases Jackie into the street. Oh, Wallace. "You all right?" She's like, "Yeah?" He lies that he wanted to make sure she was okay, because she "blew out so fast," and I have to say, he's acting like a dog right here, but at least it has to do with him and not trying to be some kind of big dog on campus or anything. He's legitimately confused about all of this, not playing Jackie and Jane like a normal guy would, to get some kind of "I'm so cool" cred out of it. Yeah, he went into the Jane thing knowing on some level that he still liked Jackie, and that's ugly in practice, but still better than trying to impress the other guys. "That's sweet," says Jackie, thinking they're still playing the game, and Wallace kisses her. Jackie: "Eeeeeasy, boy! Don't you have a date?" He asks if she doesn't also still have feelings, and she is quite clear about how that's not material: "The girl you're trying to make me right now is the girl I'm trying really hard not to be. So knock it off." Said with just the right amount of no-harm sweetness and honesty. No cards up her sleeves. I like New Jackie even more than Old Jackie. Which I guess is the point. She smiles and takes off, and Wallace wipes his mouth and heads back in...
...where he's nearly run down by Jane in her rageful way out to the parking lot. She says she's riding home with "Kate," and at Wallace's "Who, me?" bullshit, gives it up: Kate saw him kissing Jackie. To his credit, Wallace doesn't blame Jackie, just admits to messing up, but Jane's too locked into her Queen Bees sexist paradigm to hear him: "She's always around you! Hanging on you! You couldn't resist?" Bad enough, okay, with the girl-hating, but still. As long as she doesn't immediately crawl back into his...aw hell. Like a stupid fucking puppy dog, she does. Jane? We're done. It was fun for the forty minutes we had, but you can now go fuck yourself. I realize you're in high school, and that's about 60% of an actual excuse, but I am agenda-free when I tell you that I hope he rips you in two by the end of the episode. You have to vote for yourself, first and last and always. Otherwise, you deserve what you get. I'm really proud of the five seconds you held out. Hope that works out for you.
Mac and Cassidy, in the hallway, discuss the relative "sucktastic" nature of the dance, and Mac says that "the night's still young," and that they could go back to his place. Since he doesn't have parents, just perverts and squatters. Grasping, he notes that Dick's there. She's like, "Dick is...always there?" And he grasps more: "Yeah, I don't...feel like dealing with him." Mac stops him again, and points out that if they stay in Beaver's room, they won't have to deal with Dick. Beav's like, "If only that were true." They kiss, there's sad music, sad Beaver, and Mac finally just holds him. Just wraps her arms around him and holds him until he stops shaking. "Of course, we still have eight stops left on Pizza Quest '06," she says lightly, and Beaver keeps mumbling, "It's just, you know, with Dick there..." Mac watches Beaver wander off, and bites her lip. Nobody shows up to tell her how very out of her league this shit just got. Girl needs some friends.
Gia, over that last: "For a friendship to work, you have to be completely honest, which is something I have absolutely no problem with, but you, you run from the truth." He says, completely truthfully, "Only when it's true." Man, I bet he wishes for a day when there's one rumor about him that isn't true. Or when there's a thing he doesn't have to run from. "I think you use sarcasm and anger as a way of keeping people from getting too close to you," Gia notes, and Logan agrees: "You know? I do. But it doesn't always work." I like how Gia's playing this -- you'd think Logan was just Advanced Dick, in terms of the Bad Boy concept, but she's really just regarding him like a particularly well-toned science experiment, which is cool -- but the camera-commanding performance comes, as usual, from Logan, whose fists and knuckles would like very much to throw Gia into outer space even as he's carelessly answering her comments, and not even because she's particularly right, because the "insights" she's having wouldn't blow the mind of a toddler so it's not like she's cracking any particular masks with this crap. Veronica walks up as Gia's saying, "Tell me what you think about me! Seriously! Be completely honest." Logan's eyes go wide, he cracks his knuckles and stretches with a huge "you asked for it" grin...and Veronica grabs him: "Dance with me." It's hilarious. I do like some funny with my horrible, but especially if it's quality funny, and that face he just made? That's quality.
On the dance floor, Logan's back to his baseline: shit-talking chocolate shell with the honesty cream filling inside: "When I dreamed of this moment, 'I've Had The Time Of My Life' was playing." Veronica just puts his arms around her, refusing to look into his eyes. And they dance. Every time Logan looks away, so tall and gangly, Veronica sneaks a look up at him, small and wise and tired. Finally, he looks down, and they lock eyes, and a song begins to play for us, over the scenes to come, and they dance, and they don't kiss, and it's awesome.
Less awesome -- though no less painful, I would imagine -- is Thumper's current circumstance, which is getting the shit kicked out of him by Liam. He says that he went unconscious and, later, the cash was gone. Liam points out that Thumper's "baby face" is a bit too pretty for a muggee, and asks if he was hit in the head, or maybe received a Vulcan Death Grip, all while beating him. Danny brings in the envelope of cash, which he says was shoved behind "the little bunny's gas tank." Act out on Thumper's terrified face. Oh, Weevil.
Jane walks past Jackie in the hall, day at school, and turns around: "I used to think everyone was wrong about you." She turns and leaves, damage done, and Jackie is a little sad, and a little thinky.
In a bathroom somewhere, Liam and Danny are tying Thumper to a urinal, acting all scary and weird -- it's been several hours, no? Crystal meth is so, so ugly. I saw Spun, I know what I'm talking about -- as Thumper complains that it was Weevil who set him up. He lays out his last, screaming card -- "I got something on you!" -- before they stuff his mouth and cover it with duct tape and make a duct tape joke from five years ago. And they leave, walk out with him tied to the urinal, as a strange honking noise sounds. That's what my notes say, like I wasn't sure if it was actually on the TV or just in my new, very loud, very highway- and train-adjacent apartment: "Strange honking noise?" Because if they were trying to humiliate and/or threaten him, they'd take it to the flag pole, right? So why this strange honking bathroom? It's in the school, right?
Woody comes to Keith and acts almost as sketchy as with Logan, frankly, all about how the creepy video is courtesy of a former gardener of the household, who confessed to taping the creepy video in retaliation for getting fired for killing the hydrangeas. "My wife is...tough," Woody breathes. That's a pretty not-so-harsh word for it, but yeah. Woody says that the gardener is really not a bad guy -- in fact, so much so that Woody promised the guy he'd get the DVD back. Which is not only a lie, but also a total lie, because it doesn't even make fucking sense on top of being a lie. I'm so sure, fucking weirdo sex goat Goodman. Fuck you and your gardener. I hate not knowing what people are up to! Drives me bats! Keith soft-pedals the bullshit ("You are being very understanding"), and Woody shakes and wiggles about how he's got "bigger fish" and probably Keith would be "out of business" if "they all went this way, huh," because: like any crime in the history of private detection ever got solved by the victim politely requesting the evidence and giving it back to the obviously fabricated perpetrator. Yeah, I see Keith being really scared about that trend continuing. "So, Keith," he sweats and gulps and shivers some more, so you make sure and get what's going on some more, "you got that DVD?"
Keith takes Woody out into the reception area, and Woody talks more about Keith getting Terrence off, even though Keith has explained a billion times about how that boat's never going to sail, and Woody goes all kinds of Kate Hepburn on Veronica about how she's "such a good kid" for coming in on her lunch break "to help Dad," and they both kind of watch his palsied, suspect ass perambulate out the door. Keith asks her to hold his calls, and watches the video again in his office. He sees some kind of reflection, I think. I knew it!
Outside, the Seafood trucking guy enters. "Okay, you win," he says to Veronica. "Smart move, talking to my wife." Yeah, I'm guessing the "Haven't I provided you with this wonderful home in the middle of a pitched gang war?" argument didn't really do much for his case.
Lamb asks the trucker guy to confirm that he saw "one PCHer stab another, and put the knife in" Logan's hand, and asks whether he could identify the kid again. He says he couldn't make out any faces, but that the guy had a red bike with a black spider on the side. Lamb knows it. He tells Sacks, finally, after all that, to issue a warrant for Thumper, finally. Gosh, I hope it isn't way too damn late for due process.
Jane sits at lunch with a very discomfited Wallace, who's watching Jackie alone at her table. "She brings it on herself," says Jane, but she's speaking from a somewhat biased perspective, and can go to hell anyway. Wallace says again that Jackie wasn't the kisser last night, but the kissee, but Jane's not having it: "She must've been coming on to you." Wallace is like, "What will it take?" saying, "I just kissed her out of nowhere. Sorry. I don't want to hurt you, but I gotta be honest: I still have feelings for her." Jane is hearing this like it's a frigging surprise. Then she spontaneously combusts and her corpse is ravaged by wild dogs as Tina Fey stands nearby, laughing wickedly, enjoying a delicious and still-warm handful of S'mores.
Wallace approaches and tells Jackie -- somewhat needlessly, given the smoking pile of cornflake girl at the table -- that he broke up with Jane: "Are you going to ask me to sit down?" Um, no? Jackie explains that he can't sit with her, but he's not getting it: "I'm free now. You know I like you..." Jackie gives it to him bite-sized, how if he sits there, she's "the man-eating bitch" who snatched him from the stupid, burnt-up corpse of "one of the sweetest girls in the school," and how -- since she's obviously campaigning for the title -- she can't have that. She asks him again to leave, and watches him go, and is sad.
Oh dear. Mac and Beaver sit at lunch, feeling weird about all kinds of things. Mac: "Is it me?" He plays dumb and says no, "it's the tater tots," and she...goes there. It's more awkward than a season of Degrassi: "Are you not attracted to me?" (If you have to ask...?) Beaver's like, "What what?" and she asks him to explain, then, why he doesn't "wanna do stuff." He begs of her to stop, and she says that they have to talk about it sometime. Oh, man, the ugliness of people who are not ready for dating. Mac explains that she gets nervous, too, like, when they're just hanging out she's totally confident and cool, but then all this pressure appears sometimes, and..."I don't know what I'm doing either." Which is not what you say here, optimally. I think you should really just avoid any kind of insult, on top of the all-levels accusation you're leveling here. It's not like teenage boys are that confusing. They are 30% food or the getting of food, 60% polymorphous perversity and free-floating anxiety both sexual and other, and 10% "I'm not gay and also I'm a total stud." This is not math that would overwhelm your average graphing calculator. "Uh, I know what I'm doing," Beaver spits, and Mac tries to backtrack, getting really vulnerable and apologetic and hard to watch and very, very sad: "I'm saying I don't, so if you don't either, or you feel nervous or..." He begs her, again, to stop talking. Mac: "Veronica says that guys move at all different speeds..." and Beaver wigs, about her talking to Veronica, which is easily six buttons right there. Mac tries again to overclarify: "No, it was about me, not..." She stops. "I'm...doing something wrong." Ooof. That's the line that got me. "You weren't," Beaver nearly cries, "but you are now." He stands, and she looks very tiny. "Good luck getting laid," Beaver red-flags all the fuck over the place as he runs away, and we are treated to a very slow, very sad, very outmatched Mac. Poor girl.
Montage continues with the music now having completely taken over the soundtrack. (From the notes, verbatim again: "Musical montage, are we? I think many people will die now.") There are flashlights -- under the Old Shark, I presume -- and they land on a bike chained up to some pylons. Red, with a black spider. I don't like this. So I'll say instead: all we don't know about is the Curly and Logan and Haaron connection, right? And whatever they throw at us , but those are the basics? That is what we as viewers still need to figure out: the Logan/Veronica/Curly/Haaron axis? Nothing creepier than yet another Echolls family surprise party. Jeez.
A guy comes running up -- as, outside, Woody poses and smiles with various people -- and tells Woody that there's a motorcycle chained up underneath the stadium, about to be dust. (I swear I was like, "But Lamb doesn't need the actual bike to prove he knows who Thumper is, so why...Oh. Oh. Fuck, dude. That's rough!") Woody asks if everybody is out of the building, and the guy says that they blew the strange, honking horn a dozen times, and "the guys" did a walk-through, and Woody says that somebody's going to lose a bike, then.
Veronica calls Keith in to watch the demolition on the news, at home.
Logan cutely presses the plunger: it's his all-time dream, where everything's destroyed but nobody dies.
Thumper hears the stadium coming down around him.
We watch the demolition on TV, Keith's nose to Veronica's head like you do with your kid. They smile. It's exciting! Out with the old and in with the incorporation. Everybody likes a demolition.
Over the creepy children's laughter at the end of the song, Weevil goes to the booth: "It's been a long, long time since my last confession."
The end. Thanks to you guys, and Couch Baron, and Wing Chun, and remember, week: new night, same time. Tuesday. Don't forget!