Beverly Hills 90210: U4EA

I'm back, y'all! Hope you didn't miss me too much, but I needed a vaykay like nobody's business. My final semester of my final year at uni required most of my attention, so that's my excuse. Plus, last week was my birthday, and I'm not embellishing at all when I tell you that I'm just recovering. I thought I'd do the sensible thing this year and have multiple dinner soirees instead of one huge birthday bash, but that turned out to be the single best mistake I've made so far in my 21 years on this planet. I've drunk more champagne these last eleven days than Iggy Pop has all his New Years Eves combined.

Today I bring you another 90210 episode, but this one's special -- it hold the grand distinction of being my favourite one of all time. I think. Don't quote me on that, but it's definitely right up there. In today's episode, Silver gets drunk, Brandon gets roofied, Brenda and Kelly are nonstop bitches and we even get a little Steve/Andrea action. In a nutshell, it's the perfect episode. (Except for Emily Valentine. I know Brandon liked her, but I never did.)

In the halls of West Beverly, Donna, Kelly and Brenda are complaining about how boring their lives are. Right. Brandon and Emily walk by, and Emily tells the girls about some hip underground rave club she just happens to have heard about. Get this -- they let just anyone in. No IDs, no cover charge, no nothing. This is generally a sane person's first tip that something is amiss, but no. The trick is, to get the location, you have to go to a particular convenience store and exchange an egg for the club's address. Apparently it changes locations every week, as though the first round of oh-so-subtle "this place is shady" clues didn't get through.

Emily and Brandon stop by the Blaze and tell Andrea and Steve about the egg rave club. Andrea pretends she wants to do an expose of it for the paper, but really she just wants to spy on Emily and Brandon and make sure they don't have any fun. Steve decides to go as Andrea's date, for no other reason except to appease the weird Steve/Andrea ship I have going on. Not that I think they'd make any sort of great couple -- I just like their scenes together. And their scenes in this episode? Awesome.

At home that night, Brandon and Brenda get ready to get their par-tay on. They go to great lengths to make up a plausible excuse as to why they're all dressed up with seemingly no egg rave club to go to, but by the time they get downstairs, their parents are so wrapped up watching a movie on the couch, they don't even bat an eyelid at their offspring. The twins even manage to coax an extension on their curfew out of Jim and Cindy. Guess they've been Beverly Hills parents too long.

Kelly, however, is having no such luck. She tells Jackie the truth -- she's going to a creepy underground club with all of her underage friends. Jackie the recovering alcoholic is having none of that, though, and tells her that she'll have to stay in while Mommy Dearest goes gallivanting around town with Mel Silver. Naturally, Kelly sneaks out the second her mother leaves the house.

The gang meets up at the Peach Pit, bar Andrea and Steve. They're late for some reason. Kelly's mad that Donna brought Silver along. Brenda's mad that they all seem to be doing what Emily wants to do. They both such downers in this episode, I can't even begin to tell you. Nat asks Emily and Brandon where they're all going, and they very stealthily respond with, "a...place." That's some A-grade lying right there, Brando. Nat's all, "Oh wellsies, have fun." Heh. Nat is such an enabler. Between him placing bets for his underage employees and Jim and Cindy "Couch Potato" Walsh, it's surprising that Brandon made it out of his teenage years alive.

Their first stop is the convenience store, and I notice for the first time that they're all decked out in either black or denim. (Or both.) I love that they're colour-coordinated for their big night on the town. Emily goes up to the counter and exchanges the egg, no questions asked. Silver, jokingly, asks for a bottle of whiskey...and gets it. Worst convenience store clerk ever. I mean, come on. Silver looks eternally eleven. Plus, he gets the whiskey, a bottle of water for Brenda, gum for Kelly and popcorn for Donna, all for sixteen dollars. Is all your shit cheaper in America, or was this the wacky nineties? Because if it's the latter, I miss them. Then I remember all the double denim and matching black ensembles, and suddenly I don't anymore.

The egg rave club is totes hopping by the time our black-and-denim-clad Beverly Hillsians rock up. Dylan takes this opportunity to tell Brenda that a club like this is a breeding ground for drug activity. Hey Dylweed, you know when this would've been helpful information? Before. Literally any time before, just not ten feet from the friggin' entrance. Brenda asks her recovering substance abuser boyfriend if he's going to be okay. He tells her he is, and she's like, "Whatevs, let's head on over to Temptation City, Dyl." Thanks, Brenda.

Once they get inside, the girls (and Silver) all ooh and ahh over how crazy it is in there. Techno music, people dancing and et cetera. I'm pretty sure they have places like this in Beverly Hills too, but none of them seem to think so. Silver says that the place is "trippy," and Kelly makes fun of him. Now don't get me wrong, I haven't gone soft on Silver or anything, but I hate it when Kelly gets unnecessarily bitchy like this. It's slightly less annoying than when she gets unnecessarily judgemental, but still. Silver takes out his cheap-ass whiskey and offers it to everyone. They all refuse for some reason. I guess it's one thing to sneak out to a bitchin' rave party, but quite another to actually drink. What exactly are they planning to do here? Kelly goes so far as to call Silver a geek and pay him out for being a disgusting alco, and Donna stands up for him and says that "not everybody who has a drink or two is an alcoholic." I'm pretty sure these words are going to haunt her in a year's time when she's hunched over a toilet at prom.

While they're all standing around doing nothing, Kelly complains about how everyone seems to be coupled off except for her. Emily, for no real reason, says, "Life can be really depressing when you don't have a boyfriend." Um, fuck you, Emily. How is that an okay thing to say to someone who's already feeling bad about being single? Also, feminism called, and it wants to punch you in the face. Brenda overhears this remark and bitches to Dylan that Emily really rubs her the wrong way. Dylan retorts that she must rub Brandon the right way, and I give the scriptwriters props for sneaking that in there.

Meanwhile, Steve and Andrea finally arrive at the Peach Pit. Nat gives them an egg and directions to the convenience store that Emily left for them. So not only is Nat not stopping his favourite high school students from doing something that screams 'illegal', he's actually helping them? Jeez, Nathaniel, responsible much? Andrea takes the egg, confused, and Steve tells her to "get with the drill." Was that ever slang? "Get with the program," I've heard of, but "get with the drill?" Not so much. Andrea accidentally knocks over a cup of coffee, right onto the directions. They decide to forge on ahead anyway.

Back at the rave, Brandon is telling Emily that he doesn't want to dance. Because Brandon doesn't dance. That's a character trait you can never be reminded of too many times. He points out a giant burly guy that people keep coming up to, and Emily tells him that Big Burly Guy is a U4EA dealer. U4EA, for those of you at home, is a drug. A drug that Emily swears she's never tried before. (Spoiler: she's lying!) A drug that she attempts to get Brandon to take with her. Brandon, ever the sensible one, declines. After all, he does not get high. He just gets drunk and crashes Mondale. I do like that he reminds us of this, instead of being his usual high-and-mighty, Brandon-Walsh-can-do-no-wrong self and pretending that little incident never happened.

Steve and Andrea are driving around town, trying in vain to read the directions on the coffee-stained napkin. Andrea blames stupid Emily for not thinking to draw them a map on something sturdier than a napkin. It makes no sense, but since I love snarky Andrea, I'll let it slide. They stop at a convenience store they think might be the right one, and head inside to exchange the egg. Note: Steve's holding Andrea's hand. Cue the awww's. (Awww!) Now I can't decide which of the lines in this scene I'd rather quote for you, so here's the whole thing.



This is far and away my favourite scene in season two, maybe even the entire series. It's like a poultry-themed Who's On First.

Back in the nowhere-near-as-entertaining A-plot, Silver is sauced. It's okay, though, because drinking's only bad when Donna Martin does it. He talks with Brandon for a while about how he thinks of himself as "the host who's had the most," and then raves on for a while about how Donna likes him. God, if only Silver was drunk every episode. It almost makes him bearable.

Emily, still wanting to get high with Brandon, decides to take matters into her own hands and slips the U4EA into his soda. Good God, she's sociopathic. I hate it when Brenda's right. Some time later, Brandon tells her that he feels weird, and she admits that she, uh, drugged him, I guess. Brando's not as incensed about this as you'd think he'd be, probably because he's feeling a little too U4ic. Heh. You see what I did there? I'm oddly proud of myself for that one.

Meanwhile, Andrea and Steve are sitting in the 'Vette, totally and completely lost. Andrea snarks Emily some more about how she only joined the paper to get into Brandon's pants. She complains that, "this evening has been a total mmm." Insert your own bad word there. Steve tells her to stop apologising for who she is and get in the game, because the only reason Brandon only likes Emily is because she throws herself at him. He's so passionate about it, too. I love Steve so much. This is the sort of advice I imagine he'd give me if he was a real person and not just my fantasy BFF. Eventually, Andrea spots the right convenience store, and they head on in to exchange the egg.

Segue: I had a dream a couple of months ago where I was back in high school, and we were all doing some sort of crazy showstopping musical number. Steve Sanders was with us, and he and I sung a duet about how awesome we are. Sad but true.

At the rave, Silver and Donna are dancing wildly. Donna tells him she has to sit down, because she's "bushed." Silver's response? "Which one -- George or Barbara?" Ugh. And they say you're the witty one, Silver. There are so many cooler comebacks you could've used, and judging by Dylan's quip about the way Emily rubs Brandon, I'm pretty sure the network wouldn't have minded. Kelly, Dylan and Brenda come past for one final rendition of their tired Chide The Drunk Guy chorus. Seriously, you guys, shut the fuck up. So Silver's drunk. Why would you go to the trouble of sneaking out to a club if you weren't going to drink?

On the way back from the grungy bathroom ('grungy' in this case meaning disgusting,) Kelly and Brenda step on some drug paraphernalia and see a couple getting high in the corner. They realise that the place is crawling with ZOMG!druggies! Even though Dylan told her this would happen at the start of the night, Brenda acts like this is new information. She and Kel head on over to where Dylan is and tell him it's time to find Brandon and go. In Kelly's words, "This place is never again." Hmm. Again, I don't think calling stuff 'never again' was ever a thing, but I dig it. In fact, I think I'll use that.

Outside, Silver gets really sick, and Dylan holds his hair back while he munts all over a wall. Ew. Say what you want about Dylan, but he's all sorts of awesome to Silver in this scene. He doesn't even like Silver, and yet here we are. He even carries him over to Kelly's Beemer and sort-of hurls him into the backseat. That's some good lookin' out, McKay.

Dylan and Brenda find Brandon on the hood of Mondale, making out furiously with Emily. He even has his shirt unbuttoned, that hussy. Dylan recognises that he's off his face immediately. Brandon and Emily respond by telling them off for being too serious. It's actually kind-of funny, even though I know that this is the first of many DRUGSAREBAD episodes, and we should really be learning some kind of lesson from this. Dylan takes Brandon's keys and gives him money for a cab, then hustles Brenda towards his car.

Brenda's like, "We can't just leave Brandon here!" and Dylan responds with a monologue about how DRUGSAREBAD. It's an anti-drugs message that would be so much more effective if we didn't have Brandon in the background, hilariously standing on the hood of his car, chest bared, looking stoned out of his mind. I think this is the first time Brandon has ever stolen a scene. I'm a little impressed.

Meanwhile, Kelly is trying desperately to beat her mother home so she doesn't find out that Little Miss Honesty disobeyed her and went to the skeezy rave party. Of course, this doesn't stop her from being mean to Silver, who's moaning and groaning in the background like...well, like a guy who just downed a bottle of whiskey, actually. Kelly tells Donna that she made a mistake bringing him with them tonight, because he's "a geek and a pukemeister." Heh. Pukemeister. Kelly is winning the battle of the Awesome Nineties Slang I Never Knew Was Actually Slang today.

Oh, and in case you're interested, Kelly does not get home before Jackie. Bitch is grounded.

Steve and Andrea arrive at the rave at the same time the police do. Dammit, they never get to have any fun! They spot Brandon and Emily, assumedly so Jason Priestley can show off his cartoonish 'guy on drugs' acting, and Emily tells them that they have to get out of here because she's still got some U4EA on her. Steve grabs it out of her hand, then drags her towards the 'Vette by the wrist. I love it when he gets forceful. Andrea takes this time to tell Brandon how disgusted she is by his behaviour.

Back at the Walsh house, Brenda is waiting up for Brandon to come home. He does so, at six in the morning. God, I hope Jim and Cindy catch him. Brenda and Brandon have a D&M about the dangers of drugs and Brandon admits that "I totally lost control." Yeah, Brando. You unbuttoned your shirt! You sat on the hood of you car and made out with your girlfriend! Those crazy kids, I tell ya. Brandon finally tells us what Dylan was trying to tell us before Brando interrupted him with his shirtlessness -- "people talk about how drugs are cool, but it's just a big fake-out." Holy crap, that's not even remotely subtle. I do love that Kelly -- the girl who initially told her mother the truth about where she was going and chided everyone for drinking -- got grounded, but Brandon managed to get home without his parents even waking up.

The next day, Dylan and Brandon head back to the club to pick up Mondale...which has been stripped for parts and just generally trashed. Oh, here's the comeuppance. I love that whenever Brandon decides to be bad, it's always the car that suffers. Dylan tells Brandon, "I'm just glad you couldn't see yourself last night," and Brandon asks if it was really that bad. Actually, no, Brandon, it wasn't really. You didn't even take your shirt clean off. Brandon admits that he'll have to tell his parents because there's no lie big enough to cover Mondale's demise, even though I thought of at least four in the last second and a half. I guess I'd make a much more covert druggie than Brandon.

At home, Brandon tells his parents all about last night, never minding that he's dropping Brenda in it too. He neglects to mention that Emily's the one who drugged him, though. Jim and Cindy seem mad, despite the fact that their shitty parenting last night didn't help the situation. Then they get mad at Brenda for leaving him there. Emily drops by and tells her boyfriend's parents that she took care of him while he was high last night, like the lying druggie whore she is. I hate her more and more with every passing second. Steam is practically coming out of Brenda's ears, but she doesn't dime. She's such a good sister. I take back that stuff I said earlier about her being a bitch. The second they're alone, Brandon breaks up with Emily. She's all butthurt about it, despite the fact that it's all her fault. Literally, all her fault. Not a single other person is to blame except her. This right here is the reason I have zero sympathy for Emily Valentine in the episodes to come.

Andrea goes to the Peach Pit to talk to Brandon. Actually, 'talk' isn't the right word. She takes him to the kitchen, breaks an egg into the frying pan and tells him that it's his brain on drugs. No, I'm not joking. That's how unsubtle they're being here. The writers' laziness is so bad now that they're actually just recreating an anti-drug PSA. Rachael Leigh Cook would be so proud.

The Little Mermaid TV: The Evil Manta

Kids, sometimes in life there are little coincidences. Take, for instance, this episode of The Little Mermaid TV series. Voicing the evil manta is everyone's favourite everything, the incomparable Tim Curry, who I believe I've already pledged my undying love to on this blog. What you may not know (unless you're either stalking me or are me) is that not too many years ago, after watching Tim Curry's Home Alone 2 on my old childhood VHS, I stuck around after the end credits to see if there was anything else on the tape. And oh God, there was. There was. This very episode, starring the voice of the evil Plaza Hotel concierge himself. See? Coincidence.

I'm not quite done yet. You may remember that mere weeks ago, I rekindled my love of Salute Your Shorts. There was themed T-shirt buying and everything. As I was watching Budnick doing something cheeky every single episode, I couldn't help but notice that his voice was strangely familiar, and came to the conclusion that he was just some voiceover actor we've all heard a million times. Naturally, I was right on the money, but get this -- Budnick himself (or Danny Cooksey, rather) voices the merman Urchin in The Little Mermaid! In this episode! Again, coincidence.

Also, I should warn you that I loved this show when I was a tot, to the point where my dad used to have to tape it for me every week during Saturday Disney. Then he taped over it with soccer. Which I think is more irony than coincidence, but it doesn't change the fact that one fine day, a little girl put on her 'Ariel' tape expecting to go on mermaid adventures and ended up watching Manchester United battle Arsenal. I cried into my Little Mermaid magazine for weeks.

Even if you didn't watch this early nineties awesome-fest of a show, I'm pretty sure you know all the characters by now, so let's just get straight into the recap, shall we?

(No embeddable videos this time around, but you can click the links to see the ep.)


I'm going to start by saying that this Little Mermaid theme song is absolutely beautiful. There's no other way to say it. It's got elements of 'Part of Your World', 'Under The Sea' and 'Kiss the Girl' in an orgy of made-for-the-film ballads. An orgy, I tells you. It's a prehistoric mash-up, way before those singy-dancey folk from Glee were making them cool.

Things are a'happening in Atlantica today. Underwater sea creatures are dancing with other underwater sea creatures. Swordfish and octopi are eating meals together. Ariel and Flounder are playing some sort of blindfold tag which I'm not sure is completely safe. King Triton and Urchin are off to watch the turtle race together. (Gee, he even looks like Budnick.) The aquatic city is -- dare I say it? -- harmonious. A little too harmonious...

Ariel and Flounder, sick of playing their strange little game of Marco Polo, head on over to the scary dark part of the ocean. If we're keeping with Disney terms, it's kinda like the underwater equivalent of Scar's elephant graveyard. Because when my town is buzzing with music and excitement, I know I just gotta get out of there quick-smart. (That's actually only a little bit sarcastic.) Ariel finds a couple of crystal-type things on the ocean floor, but then panics when she hears a pained voice in the volcano. She rushes to the top, only to find a pair of creepy yellow eyes staring at her from a crack in the volcano. Thinking some poor soul is trapped in there, Ariel decides to try and free him. Flounder warns her about a mermaid legend he's heard where all the merpeople shut up a monster in the volcano to save their town. He's a little skimpy on the details. Ariel doesn't believe him, because just look at this poor soul with his yellow eyes and ominous background music and the fact that his character is actually called 'evil manta'! How could he possibly be bad?

Ariel gets to work on the volcano using the sharp crystals she just happened to find moments before. In no time, the volcano erupts and out pops a scary, buff evil manta. (As the title may or may not have suggested.) I don't believe said manta is anatomically correct, unless they actually are part man, part stingray, part Captain Planet. And really, what are the odds of that? It's more like a Transformer manta. The evil manta thanks Ariel for unleashing unholy hell on her once-beautiful city and then goes off to do something evil. Ariel's like, "Aw, crap."

Back in Atlantica, an octopus (the one we met at the start who was BFFs with the swordfish) is working on his tentacle muscle definition, when the evil manta comes by and tells him, "You have charm, charisma and not one but eight beautiful legs." Great, Ariel's freed a date rapist. Nice job, you little redheaded fruitcake. The evil manta continues, telling the octopus that he is far superior to the aforementioned BFF swordfish. At first the octopus stands up for his long-snouted friend, but eventually the evil manta's brainwashing gets the better of him. Then the evil manta heads on over to where the swordfish is hanging out, and feeds him some bullshit about how he's too good for the octopus. Oh, Disney, you have truly outdone yourself. When was the last time a cartoon villain tried to destroy the world with psychology? It's way scarier than violence, and you don't even have to be an incredibly toned purple sea creature to do it. It does seem like all that brute strength is going to waste, though.

Eventually, the evil manta turns all the residents of Atlantica against one another using nothing but his words and his impressive understanding of the human (?) psyche. Ariel watches on in horror, then defiantly announces that she's going to stop him. Way to be the hero, Ariel. It's not like you're the one who unleashed him on the city in the first place or anything. Sometimes I feel like all The Little Mermaid is, is Ariel fucking up and then becoming a heroine when she finally fixes her own mistakes. (And by 'fixes her own mistakes', I mean 'runs to her daddy who inevitably uses his kingliness to fix his stupid daughter's mistakes.')

Ariel makes a net out of seaweed, and she and Flounder trap the evil manta, but he gets out of it pretty damn quick by zapping it with his tail. (Or is it a stinger? I'm not particularly well-versed in manta anatomy.) The evil manta declares that, "I am more powerful than friendship, more powerful than love." Okay, I see where you're going with this, manta dearest...but if you're so powerful, then why don't you try and do something less completely lame? Not that I'm knocking his mad brainwashing skillz, because they rock and they rock hard, but using your power to make everyone a little bit sad? Hmm. Get them to rob a bank for you or something, I don't know.

The evil manta goes a'wandering around Atlantica, inexplicably talking to himself. In his little monologue, he states in no uncertain terms that, "I just love spreading the shadow of prejudice. It blots out friendships before they've even begun." Sigh. While I get that this whole evil-manta-spreads-hate storyline was always going to be part of a Message of the Day, I really didn't think they'd spell it out for us so boldly. Luckily, Tim Curry makes even the least awesome lines of dialogue into something truly amazing. Seriously, Tim Curry, if you ever asked me to marry you, I'd be walking down that aisle quicker than you could say Muppet Treasure Island.

The Atlanticans begin segregating themselves from each other. The eels build electric fences, the octopi all link hands and create a Great Wall of, uh, Octopi, I guess. They start blaming all the other species for all the problems facing the ocean. Hmm, while I really don't mind the evil manta spreading the hate around town and laughing maniacally when everything turns to shit, I'm not sure I really approve of all the political propaganda being funnelled through this episode.

Ariel calls a meeting, and the townsfolk agree to this for some reason. It seems weird to me that she's the only merperson in the town. Where are her billion sisters? Didn't they think to maybe come help save their town? Anyway, the different species all stand together and whisper rumours about everyone else. My favourite is the lobster who's badmouthing the turtles by saying, "The minute they're in their shells, [whispers] they do unspeakable things." Wow, really? Unspeakable things in their shells, huh? Well come on, buddy. Even turtles have their needs. For some reason, the swordfish tries to get all up in the octopus ghetto, and when his ex-friend tells him to fuck off, the swordfish uh, stabs him. That's pretty much the only thing I can call it. Then the octopus runs into the dolphins, and it turns into a full-on melee. I'm talking a Japanese parliament-type melee here. Ariel wigs out.

In all the confusion, Flounder and Ariel are separated. The manta uses this time to brainwash the poor little dude about how yucky mermaids are. Oh boy, now it's personal. He announces his intentions to psychologically cripple Ariel as well, because his tendency to talk to himself is getting worse. As soon as the manta leaves, Ariel rushes over and tries to convince Flounder that they're best friends, and Flounder tells her that he's not brainwashed -- he was just faking! Aw, Flounder, you rule. While they're having their Hallmark moment, the townspeople arrive and see "a mermaid and a fish together? Have you ever seen anything so strange?" Oh no, interracial friendship! Burn them! I accuse Goody Ariel!

Ariel and Flounder hurry off to a cave to shield themselves from the angry mob. Flounder wonders what the big deal is -- he and Ariel have always been friends. Then we get an extremely cool flashback detailing the first time the two met. Gosh, I love flashbacks. One thing worth noting is that Ariel really did go through an awkward, ugly stage like all of us...but still seemed to always have those monster boobies of hers.

Ariel (present Ariel) decides that she won't sit down and let the evil manta ruin her peaceful little town. Hey Ariel, you know what else might have prevented that? Not letting him out of the freakin' volcano in the first place. Just something for you to think about. With Flounder's help, Ariel rounds up the troops and tells them that it's the evil manta who's really speaking for them. They're like, "Bullshit, the evil manta's not even here!" So how does one solve a terrible, complex situation like this? With a jaunty tune, of course! That's the Disney way! Ariel sings "In Harmony", a song about how our differences are why we should all love each other. And let me tell you -- it's bloody brilliant. I could've sung it for you verbatim even before viewing this episode, that's how memorable it is. Suddenly, all of Atlantica's racism troubles have melted away. Everyone's singing and dancing with each other; it's all very Hairspray. Oh, and the octopus and the swordfish have made up, in case you were interested. (I know I was.)





While all this is going on, the evil manta is still talking to himself, bragging about how after he's through with Ariel, Atlantica will be his to control. (Even though Triton, Sebastian and Urchin and possibly many others are off at that turtle race, totally oblivious to what's going on.) Suddenly he hears the painful sound of music. The evil manta does not like music. He absolutely hates it, almost as much as he hates harmony, sunshine, lollipops, rainbows and everything that's wonderful when we're together. He rushes over to where the Atlanticans are, and reminds them that they don't belong together, but Ariel and her droogs sing him out of town. Despite the fact that he's at least seven feet taller than the largest sea creature there, he doesn't fight back or anything. Ohh, I get it -- the power of hate may seem like a strong enemy, but really, it's just a coward! I see what you did there, Disney. What a nice visual message that probably went completely over your target audience's heads, like most of this episode.

Triton, Urchin and Sebastian return home in their chariot. Triton, apparently not thrilled with how the turtle race went, declares that he's glad to be home. Sebastian ominously says, "Atlantica is the happiest place under the sea." It's as though he knew what was going on this whole time! And that, boys and girls, concludes my detailed explanation as to why I wanted to live under the sea when I was four. I'm pretty sure you did too. (Although I reckon I would've gone to that turtle race and avoided all of this.)

The Saddle Club: Mystery Weekend

(First, let me saythat while I realise The Saddle Club is very much a noughties ABC Kids TV show, I'm also well aware that many of you grew up reading the book series on which it's based, so I think it's all relative. Okay, now on with the recap.)


Because Australia and Canada seem to have so much in common, the ABC commissioned this pony-themes series about three pre-teens (Canadian-to-Aussie ratio: two to one) who, uh, loved to ride horsies. They rode horsies all day, every day. "But what about school," the more responsible reader will ask. School schmool! There's no time for school when there are horsies to ride! Set in the stables of Pine Hollow, Stevie, Lisa and Carole form their titular Saddle Club. Depite being seemingly ridiculous to the average-aged viewer of this blog (why do all girls love horsies so damn much?) this show dealt with its fair share of over-dramatised themes, from friendship to love to just how to cope when your favourite horsie breaks its leg and takes a trip to the glue factory.

I have a very small but very embarrassing confession to make -- I loved this show, even though it came out when I was like eleven and probably past the key age demographic. Really, REALLY loved it. I used to write my own Saddle Club fanfiction before I even knew what fanfiction was. Now don't get me wrong, I wasn't a Mallory Pike-esque horse freak or anything. I didn't even read the books. I just adored loved this show. Looking back, as I have today, it definitely falls into the Captain Planet-inspired, 'we thought it was a good idea at the time' category. None of these kids can act, the characters are bland, and how is it possible that these three girls keep facing disasters every week? Falling off your horse is one thing, but falling down a mineshaft, getting bitten by a snake and plummeting off a cliff should be once-in-a-lifetime fare, yes? Not if you're the Saddle Club, it's not!

Let's do a quick meet of the characters:

Stevie Lake (Sophie Bennett) -- the Kristy Thomas of the group, and Canadian #1. She's kind-of a bitch to anyone who happens to not be in the Saddle Club, but she also holds the Mary Anne title for getting a boyfriend before all the other girls.

Carole Hanson (Keenan MacWilliam) -- the wannabe-vet with the dead mother, and Canadian #2. (Everyone else from here on in seems to be decidedly not Canadian.)While all the girls love horsies, Carole loves them just a little bit more, thanks to her late mother, who was a veterenarian.

Lisa Atwood (Lara Jean Marshall) -- the nice richie. Don't let her wealth fool you like it fooled Stevie and Carole that first episode. Lisa's down-to-earth and pleasant, and also a bad luck magnet for some reason. Truly. In the first season alone, she ends up being bitten by a snake, thrown down a mineshaft, almost killed by a bout of appendicitis, and goes into a coma. A freakin' coma.

Veronica DiAngelo (Heli Simpson) -- the mean richie. She's the girls' main nemesis, the smarmy blonde who needs everything to go her way. She also kinda looks like Leonardo DiCaprio, which is weird but I think worth mentioning, no?

Kristi Cavanaugh (Kia Luby) -- Veronica's lackey, and totally my favourite character. She was cool in her own right, though, and her main character trait was that she was in love with Red the stablehand. She, uh, developed a little quicker than the others, so she was probably a lot of the older brothers' favourite, too.

Red O'Malley (Nathan Phillips) -- the sexy stablehand. He's kind and sexy and good at his job, and...and sexy. I had such a crush on this guy, and I actually got to see him in the flesh once when he filmed a movie in my suburb. (He bowled at the bowling place where I bowl!) He was recast in the second season, but thankfully I'd stopped watching by then. Oh, and Americans -- he was the guy from Snakes On A Plane, the one who wasn't Samuel L. Jackson.

Max Regnery (Brett Tucker) -- the stable owner. He's a little bit strict, but generally nice as pie. And ladies, he really does make Red look like a boy. He was definitely the eye candy of the show for the mums/older sisters/Lorelai 2010.

Mrs. Reg (Catherine Wilkin) -- Max's mother and Pine Hollow's co-owner. She's the sweet older lady who, by the looks of her, squeezed out Max at the ripe old age of nine.

Phil Marsden (Glenn Meldrum) -- the guy of the group. He ends up being Stevie's boyfriend, but at the start is just a nice shot of testosterone in an otherwise female cast of characters.

Ashley (Janelle Corlass-Brown) and Melanie (Mariska Sieta) -- the younger girls. Melanie is Lisa's little sister, and Ashley is her friend who always hangs around for the cred. In the second season, Mariska was replaced with the more looking-like-Lisa-esque Jessica Jacobs, who actually died not long ago in a train accident.




Pine Hollow is gearing up for a special mystery weekend. Not to be confused with the overnight trail, which was last week's episode. Stevie, Lisa and Carole are checking out Phil's horse, while Veronica is checking out Phil's mate Greg. Nice. Phil and Greg walk over to the ladies and start giving us some exposition about how the mystery weekend is supposed to raised enough money to save their beloved pony club. A...a pony club? Really, Phil? You try and pick up girls by talking about how you're in a pony club? What kind of queer shit is that? To save Phil from any more questions about his sexual preferences, Max appears in a Sherlock Holmes-esque outfit, yammering on about how a crime has been committed and a horsenapping needs to be solved. Aw, jeez. My thoughts go out to Brett Tucker, who's actually quite a good actor when he's not whoring himself like this.

Credits time! See, this is where this show differs from simply every other one I know about -- the main version of the theme song is actually sung in the closing credits, while the opening credits are accompanied by a modified instrumental version. Isn't it usually the other way around?

All the kids are getting ready for their ride, except Phil, who tells Stevie that he's feeling sick. Cough*bullshit*cough! Ahem. Anyway, Stevie runs into some really snappy girl named Nia who acts all shady. Is this part of the mystery, or is she just it a bitch? That's the question you must answer if you want Saddle Club bragging rights. (I'm assuming you do.) Greg the random friend seems to think that it's the latter. He goes into Mrs. Reg's office where his father (the cold businessman type) is talking on his mobile. His dad pretty much ingnores him, because, seriously, kid's in a pony club. Clearly daddy dearest ain't exactly thrilled. Veronica comes up to Greg and offers to let him ride on hers and Kristi's team now that Phil's chucked a sickie.

Ashley rushes in and tells everyone in her little munchkin voice that her brand new saddle is gone as well. Gone from the room where that bitch Nia was loitering around before, too. The sociopathic Saddle Club decide that it must be a clue to the mystery. Carole's like, "Ashley was great. Those looked like real tears!" That's because they fucking were, Carole. How many small children do you know that can cry on cue?

The kids all get on their horsies and start looking for clues. So...is the plan just to let these twelve-year-olds ride around in the bush by themselves with absolutely no help or guidance or anything? Because that doesn't really seem safe. Did they not watch the episodes with the cliffs and the mineshafts and the snake bites? Stevie sees a figure running through the bushes, and swears that it looks like Phil. Carole and Lisa think she's delusional, or maybe it's wishful thinking. (At this stage in the series, Stevie and Phil have a sort-of Kristy Thomas/Bart Taylor relationship.)

Meanwhile, Veronica is trying to get up close and personal with that sexy pre-pubescent Greg fellow. Greg complains that his father only sees his pony club as a business deal; he never actually comes to watch his son prance around on a horsie. Greg, this is an easy fix: stop calling it a pony club and put on a copy of The Man From Snowy River. There's nothing more manly than The Man From Snowy River! He's a freakin' stockman, for goodness' sake! He has a hat! And a whip! Veronica and Greg try to out-deadbeat-dad one another, and while all this is going on, Kristi finds a clue in a golden envelope. Dang, Kristi, I knew there was a reason you were my favourite. The clue suggests they head towards the creek for the next one, and Kristi takes the envelope off the tree. Greg's like, "Sacrilege! How will the others find the clue if we take it?" Veronica tells Kristi to put the clue back, then takes it when Greg's back is turned. Not even true kiddie love can stop Veronica's Veronica-ness. It's oddly comforting.

The Saddle Club girls are riding around aimlessly, looking for clues that aren't there anymore. Stop for a second and think how funny that is. They're just wandering around in circles! It's awesome! Lisa finds some hoofprints in the dirt and think they're a clue. Hint: they're not, but it makes it even funnier that they think that. Just when the girls think they've caught a break, the bell rings and they're forced to retire for the night. Wow. Short mystery day.

Back at Pine Hollow, the kids are having dinner. Stevie approaches Phil and asks him if he's feeling better, and he acts all shifty and says that's he's not. Right, 'cause he's not up to anything at all. Lisa talks to Sam (a tertiary character there's no need to care about) and he complains that his group has hardly found any envelopes. Lisa's like, "What envelopes?" Heh. At least Sam's found some. Greg rushes in and yells about how his tack's gone missing. I'm not sure what a tack is, but I heard it enough times during my Saddle Club phase to know it's some horsie crap. (How helpful am I?) Lisa's like, "Ha ha, another clue," and Max is like, "No, Lisa, you insensitive little jerk. The clues are in fucking envelopes. You'd think you would understand this by now, seeing as how Sam literally just told you that."

It's time to hit the hay. Literally. The kids are all camping out in sleeping bags on top of haybales. That can't be sanitary or comfortable. Veronica is going on about how sad it is that someone stole Greg's tack, and bitchy Nia comes along and tells her that his tack was flashy and overpriced anyway. Way to act like suspicious, Nia. Unless of course Nia's actually a red herring -- then she's actually doing her job really well. I'd probably be stumped if I was eleven again and hadn't already seen this episode. Mrs. Reg comes along and tells them that it's lights-out time, and Ashley, scared that there could be a thief in the building, asks her to leave them on. Mrs. Reg's like, "Uh, no." How kind you are, Mrs. Reg. It should also be noted that Ashley's wearing a hat to bed, which is a little odd, no?

Lights out apparently means nothing for the Saddle Clubbers, who start talking about how screwed they are re this whole mystery thing. Lisa, ever the optemist, suggests that the hoofprints they found could be clues to the real mystery of the tack-thief. Hmm, I like how Lisa thinks. Are you coming last in your pony club's mystery game? Don't worry, just make up your own and win that by the default of you and your friends being the only people who know about it! Carole suggests that since the hoofprints were made by special horsie shoes (or something -- I'm failing in horsespeak right now, aren't I?) then it can't possibly be anyone from Pine Hollow. Steve suggests that Phil's the tack thief, and all the girl gasp. How dare she accuse her sometimes-boyfriend!

The girls go downstairs to look for clues. Lisa complains that the tack room's locked, so Carole gets the spare key. Whoah, check it out, Stevie -- Carole knows where the spare key is! By your shitty logic, she must be Phil's accomplice! They go into the tack room and Lisa, with a confused look on her face, announces, "Everything here's safe and sound!" Well duh, Lisa, the door was locked. It was locked up nice and tight until you and your friends unlocked it. The girls then go into Mrs. Reg's office and guard the (locked) door. Just in case that whole lock thing doesn't work. The second they fall asleep, a shadowy figure picks the lock and goes a'stealing, naturally.




Morning comes, and Veronica wakes to find her tack gone. Who could need this many tacks? (Unless they're like, disposable, but then I don't really see what the big deal is. God, I really need to work out what a tack is.) The Saddle Clubbers come see what all the fuss is about, and Veronica accuses them of stealing her tack. It seems that Nia saw them go downstairs in the middle of the night and unlock the door. Max tells Carole off, probably because she's black. I'm just saying. Stevie and Lisa come to Carole's defence and say they were all in on it, so Max disqualifies them all from the mystery weekend. Dum dum DUUUUM! No great loss, considering they were coming last anyway.

Greg is walking his horsie around the stables when Phil comes up and asks him why the thief stole his tack and not his bridle. Joy, another horsie term. I just know that it's all stuff you put on a horsie pre-ride. Greg admits that it doesn't really make sense, and maybe the thief doesn't know what he's doing. I'll say. While this is going on, the Saddle Clubbers are mucking out the stables. Whoah, so their punishment is to sit out the mystery AND shovel crap? Can a riding school even make their students do that? I mean, I used to take group keyboard lessons when I was eight, and I was behind my share of class disruptions, but not once did they ever make me clean the toilets. Anyway, Veronica comes along and tells them, "Max lent me some tack." So it's some tack now, as opposed to a tack? Is...is this tack they speak of shapeshifting? Can it spontaneously multiply? I should Google it, but by this point, my stubbornness has well and truly taken over.

Max comes along and ushers the remaining contestants to their trusty steeds. He tells the girls that he hopes he can trust them not to leave the stables until they're done with all the shovelling. Right, Max, because that's what I'd do with my prime suspects -- I'd leave them alone, unsupervised and with the knowledge of a spare key to the scene of the freakin' crime. Think about it, Maximilian. The girls seem devastated that Max is disappointed in them, and to be honest, I would be too. His 'disappointment' face is truly heartbreaking.

Phil comes by, walking his horse, and Stevie's like, "Hey Sickie, WTF are you doing if you're so sick, Sickie?" Phil tells her that maybe getting some air will help him feel less sick, and then expresses his disappointment that they're not in the comp anymore because he knows he didn't do it. And how does Stevie react to these kind words? By saying behind his back, "Of course he knows we didn't do it, because he's the real thief." Gee, that's nice. There's the Kristy Thomas in her coming out again.

In the office, Mrs. Reg asks Max if he really thinks the Saddle Clubbers stole Veronica's tack, and he admits that he doesn't. But they did go into the tack room after curfew, which warrants a punishment in his books. I like that Max actually has the nerve to punish his best students. All too often, a teacher/parent/horsie instuctor in the YA genre will give us some shitty reason why he can't possibly reprimand a certain invidual, even though the truth is that he simply likes 'em too damn much. (I'm looking at you, Mr. Collins!) In fact, we actually get this exhange, which I am quoting verbatim:

Max: Veronica's right, Mum. If it were any other students, I would have
disqualified them. I can't show them special treatment.
Mrs. Reg: Of course you can!

Mrs. Reg, for shame! I used to like you. In fact, Mrs. Reg looks and speaks exactly like one of my high school teachers, except this bitch I'm talking about had balls of steel. She was awesomely evil, and totally my second-favourite teacher. (I really can't look past the gay, musical theatre-loving Legal Studies teacher who fell asleep when we went to the supreme court to watch a trial.) But enough about me. Just as Mrs. Reg is singing the praises of the Saddle Club, they're sneaking out to find the real tack thief.

The girls saddle up their horsies and follow the strange footprints...straight to Phil. They confront him about being the tack thief, and he's like, "Seriously? You girls call yourselves the smart ones, and you still think it's me?" Lisa yells about how she can't believe he stole from the Pine Hollow peeps, and he has to reiterate that he didn't steal anything -- he's the one who's been planting the clues. Phil is in on it, y'all. Yell out if you didn't see that one coming. *Crickets* Yeah, that's what I thought.

Stevie calls bullshit on Phil's excuse, because why would he be going around on Day 2 leaving clues? Phil tells them that he's now trying to clear their name -- he thinks it's Greg who's stealing all the tacks. Just then, they spot Greg riding like the wind. I'm not sure what he's doing by himself without his mystery group, but there he goes. I totally remember how this Greg thing ends, because this was one of the episode I based my fanfiction on. I'm not going to tell you who the perp is, though; you'll just have to wait and see like everyone else. Or you could use logical thinking and reasoning to work it out as well, if that's what floats your boat.

In the ensuing chase, Greg falls off his horse. I don't think it's supposed to be suspenseful, because they've got this weird fruity flute music playing in the background. Carole rushes to catch up to his horsie, while Phil, Stevie and Lisa corner dear Gregory and take him back to the stables. I guess the mystery weekend's over, then.

In the lounge, Phil asks the girls how they could possibly think he was the thief. You know, if I were him, I'd be a bit more upset about their false accusation. Lisa's like, "So what about that chick Nia? Why was she acting like a heinous bitch-monster?" and Phil tells them that she was helping him hide Nickel for the mystery, or in Lorelai's words, "being a red herring." Hold on, wait...they actually hid the horse? Isn't that a bit literal? I'm not sure what the need was for hiding the horse, but okay. Max comes in and yells at the girls for disobeying his orders and leaving the stables, but they tell him (and Mr. Greg's Businessman Dad, who just happens to be there) that they caught the tack thief -- and it's Greg. Just then, Mr. Greg's Businessman Dad's phone rings, and Greg storms out dramatically. Because all this was about a little bit of child neglect! Of course! Stevie suggests that he go talk to his ne'er-do-well son instead of answering his phone, and suddenly Mr. Greg's Businessman Dad sees the error of his ways! Nothing like some hard truths from a twelve-year-old with an unkind face. Nothing really happens with this whole Greg thing, though. I guess he just gives everyone their tacks back and leads an unhappy, tackless life. Eh, whatever. Nobody really liked him anyway, except for Veronica, but she's pathological so she doesn't count.



It's time for the presentation of the mystery weekend trophy. Mrs. Reg announces that Veronica and Kristi are the winners, and everyone kinda groans and mutters under their breaths. Heh. The girls go over to congratulate their nemeses for plot contrivances' sake, and Phil (I included him in the collective 'girls' at the start of the sentence) notices that Veronica has a bunch of gold envelopes in her pocket, and the two get disqualified. Mrs. Reg decides to give the trophy to the Saddle Club. Fuckin' why, Mrs. Reg? How is that fair? They didn't even participate! And everyone in the lounge cheers for them, even Sam and Co. who actually found a couple of envelopes. The look on Kristi's face at the end there is pretty much the look on mine as well. Screw the brown-nosing Saddle Club, man.

And that's where this episode ends. I should make mention that this is actually where my favourite Saddle Club fanfiction started -- Red the stablehand (who wasn't even in this episode, but that didn't stop me) gets mad at Kristi for cheating, but then Sam falls off a cliff and she ends up saving his life and redeeming herself. I think Max may have even given her the trophy for it, too. Also, I'm embedding the end credits in here for you to take a look at, mainly because the song is bloody catchy and if I have to suffer, so do you.

Recap: Another Round The Twist -- Toy Love

I was actually planning on recapping an episode of Barney the Dinosaur today, but YouTube seems to have, uh, lost it somehow. I don't get how, all I know is that I was watching the first part not long ago, and now it seems to have disappeared. I guess copyright laws strike again. Fuck you, justice system.

New readers, I suggest you catch up by glancing at any other Round the Twist material on this site. (Trust me, there's plenty.) Old readers, please remember that I used to ship Linda and James Gribble Jr. something fierce. Remember that? Do you? Huh? Well, this episode I'm recapping for you today is the episode where THEY GET TOGETHER. Well, kinda. There's a whole supernatural element to it, but they're totally in LUV.

(And by the way, this is the first episode I'm recapping with the new cast in it. Remember all those familiar faces from my previous screencaps? Forget them. They're dead to you now. This gang is way cooler, anyway.)


This episode begins with Bronson picking his nose. He's very into that at the moment, despite the fact that he's like ten years old, and do ten-year-olds still do that? Fay comes downstairs with a box of junk, and declares that they're going to have a big clean-out. Linda appears and reminds us that she's in love with total nerd-burger Anthony.

Backstory time: in previous episodes, Linda found a book called the Viking Book of Love. Every time someone reads a poem from the book out loud, the person they're reading to (or looking at) falls madly in love with them. Anthony read the book to Linda in the hopes of winning her favour last, and it worked a treat.

The kids go out to the front of the lighthouse to see what Fay's thrown out. A couple of Linda's old childhood dolls are sitting on top of the pile, including a Michael Jackson doll. You had better believe that Michael Jackson jokes ensue. (Example: Fay asks what happened to the doll's nose and chin, and Linda replies, "Fell off.") Tony picks up the other doll, a dirty-faced porcelain girl with a pull-string at the back, and reminisces about how annoying her "cuddle me" shriek was. Linda makes a throwaway comment about how she used to turn on her music box to make Veronique go to sleep. But alas, Veronique remains on top of the pile while Linda rescues her Michael doll. This is doll favouritism, folks, and as we'll soon discover, unloved dolls are much like unloved children -- they go batshit nuts. (That wasn't an intentional Michael Jackson joke, but I can see why you'd think that.)

Seriously. No jokes about this.

At school the next day, Gribbs is showing the Viking Book of Love to Tiger and Rabbit. I can't remember how he got the book, but you just know he's going to use it for shenanigans. Rabbit backs away and reminds us of a previous episode when he read a poem to Nell, and she fell in love with him. Tiger's response:

"It was such a beautiful thing -- you're 14, she's 110. She was so hot for
you, and still you wouldn't let her go the French kiss."

Above: proof that Tom Budge was the best Tiger in the history of the show. Rabbit tells Gribbs to be careful, and Gribbs tells him that he's not dumb enough to read one of the poems. I think he means again, because if memory serves, he read it into a mirror and fell in love with himself at one point. Anyway, he spies Linda and decides to make her his patsy. Dirrty! Gribbs, I would've been your patsy anyday.

In class, Mr. Snapper is rambling on about Shakespeare, and Gribbs speaks up and says that he uses way too many words. On account of him being a writer and everything. He tells Snapper that he's really into the Viking Book of Love right now (the identity of which is concealed using wrapping paper) and asks if Linda could read a poem or two out to the class. Of course she does, glaring at Gribbs the whole time, and Gribbs falls in love. Gribbs and Linda. In love! Twelve-year-old Lorelai nearly fell off her seat when she first saw this. Anyway, Snapper confiscates the book, and Gribbs tells her, "Let's not worry about possessions, now that we've found each other."

Back at the lighthouse, Fay and Linda are getting rid of more junk, when who should appear at the door but Gribbs! Linda tells him to get lost, and he thinks it's great that she's not into hoarding. Then he grabs a fake spider off the junk pile and nicks off. Dang, Gribbs, you hot thing. Linda will come around. You know she will.

We have a little music montage where all the Twists bring their junk back into the house. It seems they really are into hoarding after all, Gribbs. They eventually take everything in...except Veronique the unloved doll! She utters a creepy, "Cuddle me," just to let us know that bitch means business.

In the garage, Bronson is fixing a paper plane with the aid of super glue. On his finger. Which he then inserts into his nose in search of booger gold. Like you didn't know that was coming.

That night, Linda is fast asleep in bed next to her creepy Michael doll. Honestly, why are all of Linda's dolls so weird? The weirdest doll I ever had as a child was Shred, a handsome Ken figurine who became disfigured in a freak lawnmower accident. (Number two on my list of Ways Dad Wrecked My Childhood, just behind the incident where he taped over The Little Mermaid with a stupid soccer game.) Anyway, Linda's busy sharing her bed with Michael Jackson, and I'm busy not making jokes about this, when suddenly she hears, "Cuddle me!" Veronique is back, motherfuckers! Linda screams and screams, and when her family finally get their arses into her room, the doll is nowhere to be seen.

The next morning, Bronson comes downstairs with the neck of his jumper sitting just under his eyes, as though he's trying to conceal his nose area. Strange. Oh yeah, his finger's still jammed up there. Jesus, Bronson, see a doctor or something. Fay interrogates the family as to why they brought in all their "unwanted" crap, and when there's a knock at the door, they all jump up to get it. Holy day, it's Gribbs, ready to walk Linda to the bus stop! He's so thoughtful and gorgeous, in a fourteen-year-old kind of way. Linda obliges, because she's totally falling in love with him too.

You can see it in her eyes.

The whole gang is waiting for the bus at the bus stop, and when Linda pulls out her homework to give to Fiona, she finds Veronique in her backpack! Veronique the insane doll! Infiltrating backpacks! Bitch is one pathological toy. This is nightmare-inducing. This is probably how Sid felt in Toy Story when Woody did that spinning head thing and told him to play nice. Not so funny now, is it, kids? This shit happens to nice people, too, apparently, so you'd better start reminding your My Little Ponies how much you love them before they organise a stampede on your arses.

"We'll fuck your shit up."

Tiger and Rabbit give Linda shit for bringing her doll to school, and play a little bit of keepings-off. Gribbs spoils their fun and gives Veronique back to Linda, telling her that she doesn't need to be ashamed of her dolly. Linda maintains that she's not, but just in case, she runs over to the dumpster and throws Veronique in, yelling, "Leave me alone!" The bullies follow her, and Tiger and Rabbit laugh about how Linda's talking to her dolly. Linda runs off, Gribbs hot on her heels, and Tiger and Rabbit decide to fish around in the dumpster for Veronique. But if you think Veronique can't hold her own against two fourteen-year-old bullies, you're dead wrong -- she latches onto Rabbit's face like a crazed cat or something. It's...well, it's kind-of awesome, actually.

See? Awesome.

At home, Tony and Pete are making apple crumble in an attempt to coax Bronson out of his room. It works, and they realise that super glue + nose-picking = not a fun situation. At least Pete gets to do his David Attenborough impression by chronicalling the daily life of the "elephant man."

Linda goes up to her room and finds her Michael doll missing. She is apparently unhappy with this turn of events, if her screaming, "WHERE'S MY MICHAEL DOLL?!!!" is anything to go by. There is a knock on the door, and Linda, thinking it's Veronique, opens it and yells out, "I will not cuddle you!" Of course, it's Gribbs, complete with flowers and chocolate. (As if you couldn't get more appealing, Gribbsy Boy!) Gribbs is disheartened, but maintains that the two of them can work their way up to cuddling. Funny, too. Surely you can't blame adolescent Lorelai for being head-over-heels in love with this dude.

I still am a little bit.

Veronique takes this opportunity to rush in while the door's open. Crafty little doll. Linda's gone full-on crazy now, and this exchange happens:

Linda: Are you sure you didn't bring her back from the recycling bin?
Tony: Fay?
Gribbs: Is Fay getting recycled?
Linda: I bet she's upstairs.
Gribbs: When did she go upstairs?
Tony: I didn't even hear her come home.

Obviously that poses a serious question -- is a porcelain doll really recyclable? Anyway, Linda rushes upstairs, kicks down her own bedroom door for what I must assume is dramatic effect, and finds the place trashed. Gribbs wonders why Fay would trash Linda's room, and Linda tells him that it wasn't Fay, it was Veronique. Gribbs's rather intelligent respose: "That's a pretty small doll to do all this. Maybe if it was a big doll..." Well, it was intelligent for Gribbs. Linda gets the idea to lure Veronique out of hiding...with the music box she so casually mentioned at the start of the episode.

(By the way, I recognise that music box as a Fun N' Fashion one. I had so many of them because my uncle used to be one of the bigwigs at that particular company. I was even featured on the back of one of their packages, the ever popular Make-A-Fashion-Accessory. It's how I can put 'former child model' on my resume and not be lying.)

Downstairs, Pete and Tony are trying to get Bronson's finger out of his nose. It seems my suggestion of TAKING HIM TO A FUCKING DOCTOR has gone largely unnoticed. Instead they're using that whole 'tie a piece of string to the doorknob thing' that kids use in movies and Babysitters Club books to get their loose teeth out. It does not work. Linda and Gribbs come downstairs, and Linda pushes him out the door, muttering something about how great it was walking down the stairs with him. She totally doesn't mean it...yet. Gribbs feels that they're really connecting.

Linda goes up to her room with a hockey stick to finish off Crazy!Doll for good. And boy, is that doll crazy. It's now wearing a completely different expression, which is nigh on impossible for a doll with a painted-on face to do, and her eyes are glowing red. Yeah, red. This doll has managed to be infinitely scarier than all the supposedly badass vampires in Twilight, and it's only been twenty minutes. (In case you're interested, I totally just typo'd that as 'campires'. Best. Typo. Ever.) Linda menacingly tells Veronique to "cuddle my stick, dolly!" which definitely deserves a Dirrty!, don't you think?

Oh, I'm sorry, did you want to sleep tonight?

Back at the meeting of the Rhodes Scholars, Tony and Pete finally manage to pull Bronson's finger out of his nose with the aid of olive oil.

As Linda's facing off with Veronique, Bronson walks in with the Michael doll. He claims that he was just trying to fix Michaels' soundbox, but I don't know if I'm going to believe him. Cue the heartfelt music as Michael walks (yes, walks) over to Veronique as she begs him to cuddle her. Because that's what this whole thing's been about -- the love between two inanimate obects, not revenge of one inanimate obects over her former human companion. (Suck it, Chuckie!) All Veronique was looking for was to be Michael's Billie Jean! Naww!

Still not making any jokes about this.

And that's the end of this most historic RTT episode. The next one on the DVD is the conclusion of the Gribbs/Linda (Glinda) love affair, which I'm going to have to watch but won't recap for you...well, not today, anyway.

T-Bag and the Pearls Of Wisdom: Pilot

Woot, there are embeddable YouTube videos! The sound quality is appalling, but since it's a miracle that someone actually shared this episode with the modern world, I'm not going to be too picky. Plus, this is the very first episode, so I don't have to waste time giving you any sort of back-story.





Sally Simpkins, dressed in the cute pink overalls I remember oh-so-well, walks into the game shop where T-Shirt works and asks him if she wants to hang out with her. Um, doesn't she remember that he's T-Bag's right-hand man? I know he's got some good in him, but I wouldn't exactly be seeking him out for a playdate. T-Shirt says that he can't; he's too busy working. While helping him clear a bunch of stuff off the table, Sally finds a magical board game called the Pearls of Wisdom. She decides that the best thing to do when dealing with a crazy, life-of-its-own board game is to roll the dice -- and surprise surprise, they come up with three Ts. (Not an easy feat when playing craps, let me tell you.) With the aid of some truly craptacular special effects, Sally is teleported into the board game! Oh noes!

Sally is now at a harbour of some sort, when the friendly Captain Cockle happens by. He says to her, "Ooh, you'll do, yes, you'll do nicely," and I'm sorry, but ew. Children, when a strange old man comes up to you and says anything like that, RUN. Don't think twice, just fucking run away before he drags you into his kidnap van. Sally, who apparently has never heard of stranger danger, sticks around as the captain offers her a peppermint. NO! Sally, this man is sizing you up, saying that "you'll do", and luring you with candy! Don't take it! Get the fuck out of there!

Captain Cockle goes on and on about the seven seas and whatnot, and perhaps it's the crappy sound quality, but I don't understand a word he's saying. Neither does Sally, but not even this guy's crazy babbling gets her to leave the scene immediately. Captain Cockle tells her that the world has gone topsy-turvy, and Sally actually enquires as to what he's talking about. I wonder if she does this with every pamphlet-toting, soul-saving Jesus freak she comes across on the streets. Oh, and Captain Cockle knows her name. STALKER!! I know he's a good guy and everything, but this isn't really giving kids the right message, if you know what I mean.

The Captain begins to tell Sally what happened to him last night -- apparently, he was in town when he saw a woman looking lost. Because he's a skeevy old man, he decides he's going to, uh, help her on her way. The woman says she's looking for somewhere to stay, and he tells her she can stay with him. Of course he bloody well does. After he offers her a cup of tea, the mystery woman finally accepts. Get it? Tea? I think we all know how this is going to turn out.

In the lighthouse (where Captain Cockle lives), the Captain is going on and on about his old sailing stories, and the lady is bored stupid. Then he randomly pulls out a pot plant from a trunk. Um, right. How it manages to stay alive inside a trunk is a miracle. The lady is hypnotised by this biology-defying pot plant, and Captain Cockle is so worried, he goes to fetch a doctor, leaving this crazy lady alone inside his house. Why is everyone in kids' TV shows so damn trusting?

The woman throws Captain Cockle's trust right back in his bearded face, because she locks him out of the lighthouse. Apparently he spent the night roaming the streets, until he came upon Sally. Wow, that's sad, and I suppose a much better stranger danger warning. He offers her a peppermint again. I wonder if they'll come in handy later on, say, in the final episode when he needs something that looks like the pearls to trick T-Bag into thinking he destroyed them? Only time will tell.

Sally asks Captain Cockle what sort of plant it was that made the mystery lady all crazy-like, and he says it was a T-plant. Sally's like, "Holy shit, T-Bag's back!"

Back at the shop, T-Shirt returns to see that Sally's gone missing, and the board game is now laid out on the table. He's like, "Oh, crap."

In the lighthouse, T-Bag is fondling her T-plant (it's really the only way to put it), calling it her "evil weed." Whenever she touches it, we cut back to T-Shirt in the shop, and eventually he disappears and teleports in the lighthouse. T-Shirt breaks into a random confession whereby he tells this insane lady that he went to some sort of T-academy before working for T-Bag. (As in Tallulah.) The new T-Bag's like, "She's my sister, now tell me more about this plant." T-Shirt tells her that the plant is magical, but won't say any more because he remembers how EVIL Tallulah Bag was. Tabatha tells him that Tallulah disgraced the whole Bag family by being so EVIL, and if only there were a way she could right all of Tallulah's EVIL wrongs. Don't fall for it, T-Shirt! It's a trick!

T-Shirt's like, "No way, bitch, I'm not falling for that one," and T-Bag convinces him by saying (and I quote), "Oh please, I'm GOOD!" Ohh, you're good, you say? Well then sure, I don't see why not. Have some magical tea. Of course, the second she drinks it, her clothes change into that EVIL burnt-orange ballgown thing she wears. See, T-Shirt, this is what you get for being an easily-led dumb shit.

T-Shirt realises what a terrible mistake he’s made, and tries to leave, but she magics him into staying. And whose fault is that, T-Shirt, huh? The boy appears to be under some sort of trance, and T-Bag's orgasming over her brand new powers. Which, you know, is a fair enough reaction. I'd be pretty jazzed too if I could control anything and everything by simply pointing my finger. I wouldn't have to go all the way to the kitchen to get some chips, for one.

T-Bag and I apparently think alike (she's kind-of win, so I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing), because she decides she'll use her new powers to conjure up some cake. Instead, she gets a snake. Okay, T-Bag, I daresay those powers of yours need a bit more honing. T-Shirt tells her to "think it away," and when she tries to, she accidentally thinks T-Shirt away. Good. He's not exactly useful, now is he?

Sally has just finished telling Captain Cockle all about the horror that was Tallulah Bag, and he's freaking out slightly. Suddenly, T-Shirt appears out of nowhere and scares the shit out of them both. Hee! Sally calls him Thomas, and he replies, "I'm T-Shirt, loyal tea caddy to Her Majesty." Hmm, I need to get me one of those. He yells out (hoping T-Bag can hear him) to "beam me up, Scotty." Because who doesn't love a Star Trek reference when they're three years old? Sally admits that they're all in big, big trouble.

T-Bag finally gets rid of the snake, and gets her cake. Yay for T-Bag! Then she gives T-Shirt some of her magic. Um, for what fucking reason, T-Bag? T-Shirt seems to be borderline retarded, and you're going to make him superhuman? Bravo for logic!

Sally tells Captain Cockle that if T-Bag is as powerful as her sister, then the world is her oyster. Captain Cockle clicks. (Fun with alliteration!) Before he can fill us in on his brainwave, T-Bag appears before them. (Her teleportation skills still need a little work.) She calls Captain Cockle the "bore of the century" and then demands to know who Sally is. Sally says, "you'll find out soon enough." Say what you want about Sally, but bitch has got an attitude and a half.

Sally mentions that she knows Tallulah. The current T-Bag grandly says, "she was my sister," and Sally awesomely snarks back, "well she had a habit of bossing people around," mocking the way T-Bag talks. Damn, this girl has some huge cahones. I would so not be talking like that to an insane woman who just appeared from thin air. (Still eating her cake.) Captain Cockle asks T-Bag to at least give him his stuff back, and she conjures it up. Which is kind-of nice of her. Good work with the evilness there, T-Bag. I’m quaking in my boots.

When T-Bag leaves, Captain Cockle goes to his trunk and takes out a little bag of something. (The cynic in me thinks it's drugs, but the three-year-old in me remembers that it's the pearls.) He gives Sally a clock-type thing with nine little round holes where the pearls sit. He doesn't tell her a whole lot, which is kind-of baffling, considering. Plus, what was the purpose of him knowing her name before if he didn't know anything else about the situation? What an odd show.

T-Bag returns to her new T-room, and uses her magic to add in some new furniture. T-Shirt says they ought to do the "saucer trick", which is where she uses the saucer to see what Sally's up to. Good work, T-Shirt, you braindead little traitor. She sees that Sally and Captain Cockle are trying to put the pearls onto the clock thing. T-Shirt's like, "What are they doing?" and T-Bag doesn't care. Way to be an evil genius, T-Bag. It's actually T-Shirt who insists that they get down there. I can't believe fucking T-Shirt is the brains behind this operation. What is the world coming to?

Captain Cockle finally does some explaining. He says that once all nine pearls are in place, "the light of wisdom will shine out of the north, the south, the east and the west," and all the evil in the world will go kablooey. Man, if I had that kind of crap in my possession...let's just say I can think of seven ways to abuse that power just off the top of my head. Sally tells him to hurry up and put the last pearl in place, but of course, T-Bag and T-Shirt arrive to spoil the party.

Captain Cockle manages to put the last pearl in place, and T-Bag starts to fade. Ah, early nineties special effects. Of course, since this is only the first episode, there's no way we can destroy our villain already! T-Bag manages to grab the last pearl, but it burns her. Oh noes! T-Bag uses her magic to make all but one pearl disappear, and she's like, "Eh, that's enough evil for one day" and buggers off home. Captain Cockle rejoices in the fact that they have at least one pearl, but Sally laments that the others have been destroyed. The Captain's like, "Nuh-uh, you can't destroy the pearls of wisdom!" Sally realises that it's her job to find them all, like always. She acts like this is a big huge chore. Look Sally, save humanity or don't save humanity, just don't fucking bitch about it.

T-Bag's watching the whole thing unfold on her magic saucer, vowing that Sally aka "Miss Perfect Pants" will not have an easy time getting those pearls. It's a good enough threat, but I don't know if overalls can be classified as pants. End of episode.

Ohh, I totally remember the previews at the end! Allow me to give you a word-for-word transcript of what the narrator says, because it's just to deliciously lame:

"In the next episode, Sally travels west to find the next missing pearl."
(Or perhaps the first missing pearl, Narrator?)

"Will T-Bag get her hands on it first?"
(Hmm, I'm gonna go with 'no'.)

"Is Sally really a bank robber?"
(Again, 'no' seems like the right answer here.)

"And who is the mysterious stranger who rides into town?"
(Well, uh, it sure looks a helluva lot like T-Shirt. Mystery solved.)

Wow, that was so not as exciting as my three-year-old self remembers. How is it possible that this was my favourite show? Kids really are like little crack addicts.


In the next crack-like post, we take a trip to everyone's favourite street...Sesame Street!

Lizzie McGuire -- Jack Of All Trades

Remember those TV/movie/book characters you used to think were so cool, but when you look back, you realise they were actually pretty lame? (The Wakefield twins, DJ Tanner, those fucking Planeteers?) Well, Lizzie McGuire is one of them. Granted, I always liked her nemesis Kate better, but I never had anything against Lizzie per se. Turns out she's whiny, passive aggressive and selfish, so I don't particularly want to do an episode where she takes centre stage. Since this is kind-of her show, that makes things difficult.

This episode is mostly about Gordo, who you just know has grown up to be a STUD. He always had a babyfaced cuteness about him, didn't he? In case you're wondering, here's what he looks like now:


Okay, we were wrong. But imagination's a powerful thing, so let's all pretend we didn't see that, and go on thinking that Gordo's out there somewhere modelling for Calvin Klein. Sound like a plan? Good, let's move on to the recap.

Gordo, Miranda and Lizzie are in science class, but instead of regular old science, they're doing one of those tests which gives you a better idea of what your perfect career will be.

Quick story: we did a test like this is Year Twelve, only instead of just one option it gave you a few. Apparently, though, the people at the careers testing company thought I'd make a good mechanic. Yeah right, I don't even know how to drive. One of my friends got cheesemaker, which was baffling and oddly specific, to say the least. Another chick in our class was told her perfect career was -- and I don't even know where this came from -- a fish farmhand. Not even kidding. Because apparently we all took the Aim Low And Be Happy With Obscure Menial Labour Careers Test.

Mr. Pettus, the quirky science teacher, is giving out the test bubble procedure, informing the kids not to put a tick or a cross in the test bubble, but to lightly shade it. Cartoon Lizzie snarks the crap out of this, and I wish for a moment that Reality Lizzie could be more like Cartoon Lizzie. In fact, Cartoon Lizzie pretty much always tells us what Lizzie's really thinking, and boy is that bitch passive-aggressive. It can't be good to hold all that anger in. Lizzie will probably end up with some sort of personality disorder. Gordo actually says something re the test bubbling lecture out loud, and Mr. Pettus tells him off for being a smart-arse. Even before the opening credits, we've got a foreshadowing of Mr. Pettus's and Gordo's rocky relationship. Nice work, writers.

After class, Gordo is telling Lizzie and Miranda that he's been getting Bs in science because Mr. Pettus hates him. He says to them, "If there was some gross abnormality about me that Mr. Pettus hated, you'd tell me, right? Like an infected pimple, or a deformed twin growing out of my shoulder...or a unibrow?" At the mention of unibrows, Miranda and Lizzie freak out. Ah, thirteen-year-olds. And can we just stop for a minute please and discuss Lizzie's outfit?




Gah! What a pattern overload! The sad thing is, I remember having shirts like that, but not even I was stupid enough to wear them with pants like those. It's hideous. And you can't see it in this picture, but Lizzie has one of those inflatable backpack things that used to be cool in 2001. My God, I can't believe that was only eight years ago.

At home, Lizzie tells her parents about the career aptitude test, and Jo reveals that she got 'rock diva' as a result. What sort of test actually tells kids they're going to be rock diva? It's a wonder Jo made the transition from rockstar-wannabe to housewife without her self-esteem being ripped to shreds. Oh, and we get one of those cool little fantasy-type interlude things showing Jo posing in her best 80s garb. I never really understood where those fantasy things came from (are they in Lizzie's mind? 'Cause they happen when she's not around), but I like them. And I can promise you more to come later.

Jo tells us that Sam's test said he had "untapped mechanical ability." You and me both, brother. Matt comes to the table and starts the more awesome of the two storylines in this episode, announcing that he now wants to be called M-Dogg. Hee! He tells his parents that there are four Matts in his class, and he just wants to be different.

Sam: "I knew we should've named him Dylan."
Matt: "There are seven Dylans."

Hee! The actor playing Matt (Jake Thomas) has comedic timing beyond his years, that's for sure. Lizzie laughs at this suggestion, and her parents tell her off. Which is kind-of harsh, really. Her little brother just came to the table and announced that his new name was M-Dogg; what else would you do? Lizzie's kind-of cool in this scene, and she makes smart comments about everything that comes out of Matt's mouth. And her parents yell at her every time. She even suggests that he goes with an Indian name, and says, "How about Falls Off His Razor, or Still Wets The Bed?" Jo and Sam? Not happy. God, they would hate having me as a daughter. That was pretty much how every family dinner went for Team Lorelai -- my little brother would tell us about his day, and I'd snark the living daylights out of it. It was fun. And don't even get me started on the crappy parenting being seen in this particular exchange. They yell at Lizzie for (rightfully) paying out Matt's stupid name idea, and yet they give Matt the go-ahead to be call himself M-Dogg and act like a rapper? Yuh-huh, okay, let's see how well that works out.



At school the next day, Lizzie is amped to get to science class, because she wants to know how she did on her last assignment. Gordo is less enthused, because he knows he's getting a B. Miranda doesn't care either way, because Miranda has very little to do in this episode. Which sucks, because even though I never realised it when I was younger, Miranda's actually really awesome. Anyway, they get to science, and Lizzie's paper (titled 'Our Friend The Dolphin', for those of you playing at home) gets a B-plus. Gordo's gets a B. Because Miranda is absolutely pointless in this episode, we don't even get to see what she got. Harsh, writers. Lizzie is all sorts of outraged that Gordo's brilliant paper only got a B, because it's fantastic. Gordo makes a throwaway remark about how he left out everything about the Coreolis effect 'cause he knew he was going to get a B and didn't want to do extra work, a remark that we just know is going to become important later.

The next morning, Matt comes downstairs dressed like...well, like this:



Jo has a fit and tells him to go upstairs and change into something less "Barnham and Bailey." Matt turns to her and says, "Can I at least wear my do-rag?" which I find really, really funny for no apparent reason. (Jo calls it a don't-rag, which is perhaps even funnier.) Lizzie's actually rather restrained today, considering her kid brother is taking his fashion cues from Vanilla Ice. I guess that scolding by the parents last night really got to her. Lizzie's can be hella lame when she wants to be.

Sam comes in, and says he found an M-DOGG vanity plate attached to the back of Matt's bicycle. How in God's name did he manage to find a vanity plate with M-DOGG on it in the first place? Who sells those? Is it a common name? How common? 'Bort' common? So many questions and no answers. Jo and Sam admit that they're in way over their heads. Um, guys? You're not. Just tell Matt that his name's Matt. Rule the iron fist every once in a while. It's like every TV mother and father went to the Full House school of parenting, where they just let their kid do whatever they want, and hope that they learn a lesson at the end of the twenty-two minute episode.


Science class again. So much science, I wonder how these kids have time to study anything else. Mr. Pettus gives the kids their next assignment -- the brain. That's it. How oddly vague for a school assignment. He makes a lame joke about signing up for a brain-swap experiment, which stupid brown-noser goody two-shoes Lizzie giggles at. Jeez, Lizzie, why don't you just have your lips sewn to his butt, huh? Would that be easier for you? Yeah, I thought so.

The kids also get the results of their career aptitude test. Would you like to see what they got, along with screencaps from the corresponding fantasy sequence? I'll bet you do.

Miranda: navy seal


Lizzie: cosmetologist


Gordo: blackjack dealer


Now would usually be the time that I'd go on and on about how unbelievable it is that any test would actually give kids such bizarre and uninspiring results, but I'll just refer you to my 'quick story' at the start of the post, and I'm sure you'll support my decision not to cast stones in my glass house.

On the phone that night, Gordo is overly devastated about his result, and Miranda is refusing to become a navy seal. Don't these kids get that it isn't compulsory for them to actually stick with those careers? Miranda says she's not becoming a navy seal because she doesn't want to get her hair wet. I'd snark this if I didn't agree with her wholeheartedly. But I do. So I won't. Gordo is freaking out about becoming a blackjack dealer. Gordo, take a pill. It's just a guide. Although how they managed to get 'blackjack dealer' from what Gordo wrote on his test is beyond me. I get that Lizzie's into beauty and that could've translated into cosmetologist, but what questions did they ask that resulted in 'blackjack dealer'? Weird.

Oh, and Gordo calls Miranda and Lizzie, "Monica and Rachel." What a hip pop-culture reference. Me likes it a lot. Of course, I did spend the rest of the episode trying to work out which one he thought was Monica and which one he thought was Rachel, though. (In case you're interested, I ended up with Miranda being Monica, because they have the same colour hair and they're both awesome, and Lizzie being Rachel, because they're both airheads.)

Lizzie is in the kitchen finishing off her brain project. Which is just a poster with a labelled drawing of the brain on it entitled 'Our Friend The Brain'. Sorry, but I don't buy that as a proper assignment for a thirteen-year-old. If I was Mr. Pettus, I'd fail that shit. In the lounge room, Jo and Sam have caved and started calling Matt M-Dogg. He's all, "what up with that?" and Jo and Sam say that they've decided to respect Matt's wishes...as long as Matt calls Jo Mew-Mew and Sam Dee-Dee. Apparently he used to call them that when he was younger and couldn't say Mom and Dad. How are Mew-Mew and Dee-Dee even close to Mom and Dad? Evidently Matt was an extremely slow learner. Matt's not happy about this new turn of events.



Gordo calls Lizzie and tells her that he just finished his assignment, and it's the best thing he's ever done. When he asks what that means to her, she actually says, "Uh...nothing?" Rude, Lizzie. It means your friend worked his arse off and you need to give him some praise, you selfish cow. Gordo asks her if she'll switch projects with him, because he wants his ridiculously win project to get the grade it deserves instead of a stinky old B. Lizzie isn't sure about this, especially when Gordo suggests that she "may want to bring in a 12-volt battery and any insulated wiring you have lying around the house." Hee! Gordo rules. In this scene, we get a good look at Lizzie's bedroom, and who didn't want Lizzie's room growing up? She had a pink phone, cool fairy lights and a double bed. I sure as hell didn't have any of that shit when I was thirteen. All I had was a Heath Ledger poster and some glow-in-the-dark fairy stickers.


The next day at school, Gordo comes up to Lizzie and Miranda, asking Lizzie again to please please pretty please with a cherry on top swap assignments with him. (Not quite in those words.) Lizzie finally relents. Why she didn't do that before is beyond me. Obviously this little switcheroo is going to work in her favour. Gordo takes the girls to the janitor's closet, where he's storing his project -- a giant model of the brain. Each lobe lights up when you press the corresponding switch, but Gordo warns Lizzie not to turn on all the lobes at once. Lizzie asks what'll happen if she does. Gordo's like, "I don't know, but it can't be good." Gordo, you really are the smart one, aren't you? Miranda's like, "Do you really think Mr. Pettus is going to believe that Lizzie made this?" Thank you, Miranda! A little common sense! If this episode has taught us anything, it's that Lizzie is borderline retarded and incapable of doing anything right. I'm glad someone other than me gets that.

A week or so passes, and our three protagonists are sitting in science class yet again. Mr. Pettus is handing back their assignments. Gordo (who handed in Lizzie's weak-arse brain poster) gets a C. Really, a C?? Is this remedial science or something? Lizzie's all shocked that her poster got such a low mark. Lizzie's going to get a rude awakening when she gets to high school.

Mr. Pettus comes up to Lizzie and congratulates her on her brilliant assignment. Gordo? Flips. The fuck. Out. He reclaims his brain (hey, that kinda rhymes) and starts pressing all the buttons while ranting to Mr. Pettus about how he's getting screwed over in this class. You know what? It's so awesome, I think I'm going to share the whole thing with you.

Gordo: "While everyone else was at the water park trading Beanie Babies, I was
slaving away like Igor! And I can prove it. If you touch this button, the
temporal lobe lights up. See, the temporal lobe controls your sense of hearing.
I have great hearing. I know this, because I'm the only one in this class who
hears your lectures. And this one turns on the occipital lobe. The occipital
lobe controls your sense of sight. Because of this lobe, you saw someone else's
name on my project and gave away my A-plus to Madge the cosmetologist over
there!"

Hee! Anyone who refers to Lizzie as Madge the cosmetologist gets my vote. But wait, there's more.

Gordo: "And this area is the frontal lobe. The frontal lobe controls higher
intellectual functions and reasoning. For example, right now my frontal lobe is
telling me that I'm getting the shaft in this class, that I'm not getting the
grades I deserve! It's telling me that the man is trying to keep me down and
that everyone is against me!"

Go Gordo! The dude's regular Dr. Cox. But uh-oh -- he's turned on a whole bunch of lobes at once! The entire thing explodes, coating Lizzie, Gordo and Mr. Pettus with a whole lot of grey goo. Ew. Mr. Pettus angrily dismisses the rest of the class, and warns Lizzie that they'll talk about her plagiarism later. Yeah, suck it, McGuire! It's a bit weird that Gordo doesn't take this time to point out that it wasn't Lizzie's idea, but okay. (He does later.)

Gordo and Mr. Pettus have a heart-to-heart about what's troubling poor old Gordo. Only Mr. Pettus calls him Gorda, and Gordo awesomely says, "It's Gordo. Gorda's the big girl in ESL." Hee! Mr. Pettus tells Gordo that the only reason he's been giving him Bs is because he doesn't want him coasting through the year. He knows he can do better, and he's trying to get him to work harder and achieve the elusive A. Wow, that backfired completely, huh? I'm actually in two minds about this idea. I understand the method behind the madness, but still, an A's an A, you know? You can't give an A-grade paper a B just because you think the kid can do better...can you? That's not how it worked at my school. I coasted through high school doing as little as I could get away with (often less), and I turned out semi-okay.

Gordo says it doesn't matter anyway, because he's only going to be a blackjack dealer. What the fuck, Gordo? If you're so smart, how come you don't realise that you don't have to be a blackjack dealer! Mr. Pettus tells Gordo that when he took the career aptitude test, it told him he was going to be a rodeo clown. Again, this is just screaming, "Snark me! Snark the test that tells kids they're going to be blackjack dealers and rodeo clowns!" but I really don't want one of those stones I cast to break my pretty glass house. Mr. Pettus tells Gordo that his brain assignment is getting an A-plus, despite the whole explosion finale. Yay for nicely wrapped-up endings.

Outside, Miranda and Lizzie are trying to listen in. They decide it'll be a good idea to listen through the half-open window above the door, so Lizzie has to stand on Miranda's shoulders. There's lots of falling over. The Three Stooges would be so proud.

Oh, and I just realised -- Lizzie's wearing the same disgusting outfit from the start of the episode! Headband and all! And so's Miranda! Okay, that's just lazy. The costume department couldn't even change their outfits? I hate little details like this. Apparently out of the three of them, only Gordo isn't an outfit-repeater. He comes out of the classroom and tells the girls that he can probably end up with an A in science, and he's learned his lesson. Or something. I hate these moral-y bits of shows. It's like, just entertain me already! I don't want to learn anything!


Then Gordo (finally!) tells the girls that the career aptitude test is just a guideline, and they don't actually have to follow it if they don't want to. Miranda still doesn't get it. Miranda, I'm so disappointed in you. Lizzie goes on some pointless spiel and compares taking the careers test to trying on midriff-bearing T-shirts at the mall. She completely misses the point, but at this stage, I'm surprise Lizzie McGuire is able to form complete sentences.

Back at home, Matt is getting sick of calling his parents Dee-Dee and Mew-Mew. I wonder why. He makes a deal with them -- he'll go back to being just Matt if he can call them Mom and Dad again. A-ha, the taste-of-your-own-medicine routine worked! You know what else would've worked, Jo and Sam? Actually having some authority and not letting your kid run wild in the first place. That works too. Just keep it in mind for next time, that's all I'm saying.

Speaking of, next time on ABC Not-Just-For-Kids -- Bananas in Pyjamas. Oh, the fun we had with those guys!