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.)

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!