Season 1; Ep. 11 - B.Y.O.B.: Drunk Brandon Sucks More Than Sober Brandon. I Know. I Didn't Think That Was Possible, Either.

What could make Brandon an even more intolerable piece of shit? Drunk driving! And then after putting countless lives in danger, what could make him even worse? Acting like a straight-up DICKHEAD and basically blaming his dangerous and boorish behavior on everybody else! This is maybe the one time that I wanted someone to die a horrific death in a car accident. Or at least have their vocal cords and facial expressions completely maimed and rendered useless. Kick it. 

The opening scene here is seventeen kinds of no. Brenda's hair? Bad. Doily-cardigan? Bad. Shit-colored pants with the waist tucked into her under-boob? BAD. Kelly actually looks relatively okay, minus her Candidiasis Jeans, of course. ANYway, Brenda makes a completely random comment about, "Why do guys get so macho when it comes to their cars?" HUH? Maybe Dylan was being all jerky about the Speedster or something. 

And then Kelly makes this face and says that she thinks it's an extension of their "you-know-whats." What, Kelly "Bette Midler" Taylor is too pristine to say "penis" or "dick"??? Whatever, CeCe Bloom. 

So then Donna comes up in...that. The feces-colored doily-cardigan is grody, but I like the shirt underneath, at least from what I can tell. I dig on Peter Pan collars, okay? So Donna's all, "Party hotline! Cancel everything, we are having a blowout tonight; my parents left for Cabo San Lucas [Our Felice WOULD NEVER] this morning." Then she says they'll keep it "small and strictly A-list." Well, I guess that means Steve, Brandon, Kelly, and Donna herself won't be there. 

CALM DOWN, DONNA! So Brenda asks if she can invite Dylan, and then Donna is all, "Oooo, hot and heavy," but she seriously says it like Tony "Micelli" Danza, all, "Ay-oh, oh-ay," like, WHEN DID DONNA BECOME A FORMER BASEBALL PLAYER WORKING AS A HOUSEKEEPER FOR AN AD EXEC IN CONNECTICUT? 

And Kelly's done with being a prude and tells Donna to change the sheets in the guesthouse, and that is just so, so classy. And then Kelly tells Brenda to definitely ask him, because there's "always room for one more cute guy." 

And these two dingles hear that and David, OF COURSE, thinks she means him, and LOOK AT YOUR SHIRT, DAVID. RETHINK YOUR LIFE CHOICES. And thank God Poor (Soon-To-Be) Dead Scott Scanlon is there to tell cretin David that Kelly wasn't talking about him because SERIOUSLY, DWEEB.

Brenda approaches Dylan at his locker and he looks all good in that shirt/jacket/whatever, and she tells him about Donna's party, and then...

...he makes this face, which is the same face I would make if I had to hang out at Donna's. He tells her he's surfing Baja (WHERE ELSE) this weekend so he can't join her and that he's better one-on-one. Oh, and he says something about her going with him to Mexico, which she obviously doesn't, but don't worry: we'll get to that tedious, Jim's-a-hypocritical-fuckwit storyline next season. YAY.

URGH. Can I just skip this story line? No, you say? Because the entire episode pretty much hinges on Brandon? FUCK. ANYway, Brenda's attempting to convince Brandon to go with her to the party, and he doesn't want to because "everyone's so 'Beverly Hills'," and Brenda's all, "We're Beverly Hills," and I would beg to differ, given the states of their outfits and hair, but whatever.

And then...to convince Brandon to go to the party she...kisses him??? WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK THIS FAMILY IS WACK. Look, I have a brother. And while we're not twins, I feel like we're pretty close. But not THIS CLOSE. Like, maybe there are female-male siblings who behave in this manner? If so, I DON'T WANT TO MEET THEM. EVER EVER EVER. This is just...wrong. So very, very wrong. 

And as if it couldn't get more disturbing, Brandon says, "Save it for the party," and Brenda replies with something like, "See, that's why I need you there to protect me," and WHUUUUUUUH? WHY...I...THOUGHTS, Y'ALL. 

So Jim "Jay Sherman" Walsh, apparently home from rehearsal for the West Beverly Hills Community Theater production of goddamn Fiddler On The Roof, talks to Cindy about his company's corporate retreat in Palm Springs and that mints on pillowcases and Do Not Disturb signs basically give him a Woodrow. No, seriously. HE SERIOUSLY SAYS THESE THINGS TURN HIM ON. I...don't know if I can go on with this.

And Cindy, probably wishing she would've taken up Glen on his offer, asks, "Is that all it takes?" and then Jim does this. And then Brandon, GROPING HIS WIENER, APPARENTLY...

...comes in with Brenda, all, "Settle down, you're embarrassing Brenda." And then Brenda is gross and says, "Should we shut the door?" 

AND THEN VULGAR FUCKING JIM IS ALL, "No, we were just practicing [???] for my corporate retreat next weekend," AND WHAT THE HOLY SHIT??? WHO TALKS TO THEIR KIDS LIKE THIS ALL, YEAH, I'M PRACTICING PLOWING YOUR MOTHER??? Fucking ick x ALL THE INIFINITIES IN THE WORLD. 

So Brenda really wants to go with them, and Jim, STILL GROSS, says something like, "No, strictly adults only," all making it seem like some goddamn key-swapping swingers convention. Which, with the way he's been talking, I wouldn't be surprised if it is. BARF. So he asks the twins if they care that they'll be left home alone the following weekend, and Brandon, who is SUCH a douche right here (AND ALWAYS), says that they can handle it. 

LORD. So somehow, Steve got into Donna's party, perhaps by promising her he'd be the bartender all night. 

And Brenda and Brandon get there, and Kelly's hair looks like she just stepped off the set of Anne of Green Gables. Only like, the trashy version. And she offers her drink to Brenda, and Brenda tries it and says, "Mmm, this is great!"

OH GEE. Anus Pimple Brandon doesn't like the fact that alcohol passed his sister's lips. Maybe he should yell about it. Or act like a prick. Just wait, you say? Okay. 

So Steve is 41 and offers Brandon the "speciality of the house," a Mucho Mah-Velous Mango Margarita. Like, only Steve would fucking name his stupid drink. And probably his stupid penis. And probably his stupid toupe. Oh, and I also believe he is wearing a fucking MOCK TURTLENECK.

Brandon, in his lame matching shirt-and-tie, tells Steve no thanks, and then Steve is offering up Donna's parents' stash of other types of liquor, and Donna's all, "Take whatever you want, like I'm sure my parents would ever notice? No," like, Our Felice would notice, but I guess they hadn't rooted out all of Felice's awesome qualities in the first season. So Brandon says he'll just have a Coke. 

And the 41-year-old alcoholic Steve is apparently very confused by this. Like, I'm not defending Brandon at all because NO, but back off, Steve. Not everyone wants a goddamn cocktail. 

So Kelly tells him to step-off, and Brenda's outfit is really atrocious. And remember what I said about her not being able to pull off that kind of hairdo? Yeah. And the sheer black crap needs to be set on fire. She seems to have a lot of it. 

So this random, 35-year-old CPA (maybe he works with Jim!) whose name we never find out and we'll never see again following this episode, says something about Brandon being "afraid there's a wild man lurking inside him," like, shut up Rando CPA, who we'll call like, Butch. And Donna's hair looks relatively nourished here and has some kind of ridiculous tulle bow sticking out of her shoulder. 

So Brenda and Kelly meander through the party and Brenda says, "Kelly, I thought you didn't drink," and Kelly replies with, "My mother drinks. And sucks a lot of dicks. But hopefully doesn't do that anymore after rehab. Although she might still be in rehab. I don't know because no one has mentioned her in the last several episodes. Whatever. I sip."

So Steve is 41 and making a supposed-virgin batch of his lame margaritas for Brandon, and Butch says, "Man, Walsh is a major buzz-crusher," and yes, yes he is, Butch. And Steve dumps like, a jug of tequila in the blender and says, "Not for long," and WHY IS ANYONE FRIENDS WITH STEVE? Oh, and then Butch says that Brandon will definitely taste the liquor, but then Steve dumps like, a SACK of sugar in as well. I certainly hope Brandon's not diabetic, Steve, you 41-year-old sneak. 

WIPE THE SMIRK OFF YOUR FACE, BRANDON. WIPE IT OFF, NOW. Anyway, he's eating from the veggie plate and attempting to eye-flirt with some broad wearing blue sateen opera-length gloves. Yes, I just typed that. 

Later: Brenda meets up with Brandon outside, being all sad-sacky. Shut up, Brandon. Brenda says, "Feena [?] Faris has been eyeing you all night," and first of all: FEENA??? From what I could gather without closed captioning, that's what Brenda said. Like, WHAT? And second of all, NO ONE SHOULD EVER CHECK BRANDON OUT, EVER. Especially in that way-dated blazer that like, Rob Lowe's saxophonist character wore in goddamn St. Elmo's Fire. So Brandon is at least self-aware enough to say, "Feena Faris has been eyeing everyone all night," so basically she'll fuck anything. ANYway, he asks how many drinks Brenda's had, and she says, "This is my second, Mom," and tells him he should have a real one. 

And Brandon thinks he's Jim and says, "Half-hour, Bren." GOD. I hate Brandon.

Back inside, these three are guffawing about something. Probably about Steve being 41. 

More of this. GET ON WITH IT, SHOW. Basically, Brandon asks if this is from the virgin batch, and Steve, who is so slick says that it's from the same batch as before, all smirk-jerk, because he knows Brandon's actually been drinking alcohol all night. WHATEVER. WHEN DOES BRANDON WRAP HIS CAR AND DEPLORABLE PERSONALITY AROUND THE BUSINESS END OF A FORD F150?

Brandon's mad investigative journalist skillZ kick in and he realizes he's been duped, and has been drinking the hooch all night long. And OF COURSE he gets shitty about it, but I kind of would too, since he told Steve many times that he didn't want to drink. It's like Steve is attempting to ply Brandon with drinks in order take advantage of him. Or something slightly less repulsive than that mental image.

So Steve's all 41 and is all, "We just wanted you to have some fun."

And Brandon yanks on Brenda's arm all, "Let's go."

Butch, and probably THE ENTIRETY OF THE HOUSE, is like, "Let him go. He's ruining the party," and I really like you, Butch. You and I could hang.

So since Brandon lacks moral fiber or integrity or a goddamn backbone, he's all, "Never mind! That hissy was for naught. It's totes fine. In fact, I like it!"

And then he chugs his drink and turns into Barney Gumble all, "Where have you been all my life?" 

So Steve cackles something about Brandon being a "party machine," PUKE, and Butch is friends with Brandon now, telling someone to get him another drink, and Butch? We are no longer homies. 

GOD. Later, STILL. Like, how long is this party? ANYway, Brenda spots this fucking retch-fest on the stairs. Kelly's rocking her Stevie Nicks costume, apparently, and Steve? Still 41. 

And then she spies this: Feena "Gloves" Faris and Brandon, dancing. REEEEALLY awkwardly, I might add, like you obviously can't tell from the still, but she does this bizarre move with her head, like it honestly looks like a chicken pecking at the ground. And she does it over and over. And it looked like she might headbutt him, which she didn't but I really wish she would've. Whatever, Gloves. 

WHEEEE. Finally, at like four in the morning I assume, the twins arrive home. Brenda's talking about Steve and Kelly hooking up and how "all Kelly talks about is how she cannot stand him," and JOIN THE CLUB, KELLY. And Brandon is VILE and says, "Well, all women want is sex; it's disgusting," like, A. WHO TALKS LIKE THIS WITH THEIR SISTER? AND B. NO ONE WANTS SEX FROM YOU. OR STEVE. WHO PROBABLY ROOFIED KELLY'S DRINK IN ORDER TO GET HER TO TAKE HIS DICK. GAAAAAHHHHHH. This show. Oh: and then Brenda's all, "Aww, yeah, yeah, yeah!" and like, titty-twisting Brandon and this is just beyond grotesque on many, many levels.

So Brenda and her WWF Wrestlemania belt and Brandon head inside and they're betting that Cindy will be up waiting for them like when they were in 8th grade...

...and lo and behold, she is! With bad, bad hair and a frump-tastic robe, reading like, the Encyclopedia Britannica or some shit. 

So Brandon hightails it out of there because he's apparently smarter than Brenda, who tells her mom that's it's so cute that she waits up for them and that the party was fun...

...and then breathes her margarita breath all over Cindy. GOOD GOING, YOU COOZE!

So Cindy runs upstairs to tattle to Jim, like, WHY COULDN'T YOU HAVE HANDLED IT YOURSELF, CIN? I'm not a parent, though, so maybe they have to tag-team Brenda in their admonishment or something. ANYway, Cindy's very concerned, and Jim asks about Brandon, like, does Cindy think he also drank? And speaking of coozes, Cindy's all, "Oh, you know how Brandon feels about drinking; Brenda's the impressionable one," and seriously, these two should go fuck themselves and call it a damn day. Maybe this is why Brandon struts around like a goddamn prince who can do no wrong all the time. And then when he does do something legitimately wrong (WHICH IS ALWAYS) he gets all defensive and shitty and blames everyone else. Why am I analyzing the psychological traits of 20+-year-old television characters, you ask? I DON'T HAVE ANY FUCKING IDEA I PERHAPS NEED A PSYCHIATRIC INTERVENTION AS WELL HELP. 

ANYWAY. Cindy wants Jim to talk to Brenda that night, he says they'll wait until morning, Cindy goes back to watching The Love Boat (seriously, The Love Boat; another Aaron Spelling production) and Jim turns over all Concerned Jim Face and whatever. He's probably all excited because he has yet another reason to berate and humiliate Brenda. HURRAY.

Brenda comes down to breakfast the next morning in an XXXXL denim button-down, and tells Jim and Cindy, who's sporting her Gap sweater-vest, that she wishes she could go to Palm Springs as well, and that if they see Sonny Bono, say hi for her. Oh, the 90s.

So then Jim, in his v-necked Gap sweater that matches Cindy's vest (WTF?) gets all up in Brenda's grill, saying, "Brenda, your mother smelt alcohol on your breath last night," and Cindy gets in on it and asks the obvious, "Were you drinking last night, Brenda?"

And Brenda is a GREAT liar, all, "I had one sip of somebody's margarita," and Jim, COMPLETE IDIOT, asks, "They were serving liquor at this party?" like, isn't that why you were asking in the first place? Or did you think she had her own supply? And Brenda calls him on his constant hypocrisy, asking him if he ever drank when he was her age, and Jim gets all Old Timey and says that he and some friends (imaginary ones, I assume) would take "beer runs to Wisconsin." Because Jim's life was apparently the inspiration for That 70s Show.

So Brenda says again that she had one lousy sip from someone's drink and that they're making a big deal out of nothing, and that their point is made, she's sorry, GET BENT, STUPID PARENTS. Just measure this against their practically-non-reaction near the end of the episode when Brandon destroys Mondale while going on a drunken joy ride. WHATEVER, WALSHES. ANYway, Brenda flounces out of the kitchen just as Douche Brandon appears...

...and Jim and Cindy ask him, in his stupid pumpkin shirt, whether he knew about Brenda drinking the night before. And this completely disloyal sack of manure says, "I think she had one drink, yeah." Like, notice how Brenda said NOTHING about Brandon drinking; granted, Cindy and Jim didn't ask her specifically if Brandon had had a drink, but in their minds, this little fuck can't do anything wrong.

Luckily, AWESOME Brenda is back there and hears her brother completely throw her under the bus, all, "I probably should've said something to her but I didn't think it would do any good," and MY GOD. HOW BRANDON MANAGES TO GET THROUGH LIFE AS SUCH A GODDAMN SHITBAG IS BEYOND ME. AND THEN IT GETS WORSE, BECAUSE JIM TELLS HIS LITTLE PRINCELING, "Well, when we're out of town next weekend, I need you to hold down the fort; keep better tabs," AND MY HEAD JUST EXPLODED.

So the jerkoff parents leave, and Brenda gives Brandon the furry eyeball (though she should've given him like, a carving knife to his fucking pie hole) and Brandon says, "So you actually have loyalty and didn't tell them about me, huh?" and Brenda is RAD and says, "You owe me one," and while I'm not advocating teenage drinking (even though I'd say it's safe to assume that the vast majority of us did it because we live in society and it just fucking happens), I certainly don't agree with Brandon's traitorous ways. Like, THEY BOTH DRANK. And Brenda didn't say shit about Brandon. But the second Brandon is confronted about Brenda's drinking, he doesn't even try to deny it, he's just all, oh, yeah, totes. I think she has a drinking problem. Probably coke, too. You just don't do that with siblings, ESPECIALLY if you're BOTH in the wrong. In conclusion: DIE, BRANDON.

So: BOOM. It's the next weekend, and time for Jay Sherman and trashy-haired Cindy to leave for the retreat. Brandon has this shit-eating grin on his face and Jim tells him to look after his sister, and Brenda in a sweater that I think I owned in turquoise (but in like, second grade) says that they should be telling her to look out for him, and given what's going to happen, I couldn't agree more.

At school later: Steve is 41 and totally threatening Kelly. Or telling her to call him, she "knows the number," and maybe stop acting like such a goddamn predator and maybe she would call you, Steve. Or not. Because you're hideous and your personality is lacking in every conceivable way.

THE ZIPPER ON KELLY'S JEANS IS TWENTY-FIVE INCHES LONG. ANYway, she's talking about Steve being "15 minutes of fun; a lifetime of regret," which I think means he gave her herpes. And then Brenda's all, "I regret kissing my mother goodnight; she smelled my breath and I was this close to being grounded for the entire time they're out of town," and I guess Brenda hasn't talked to Kelly or Donna for almost a week because all of that went down the fucking week before. WHATEVER, SHOW.

So Kelly, who apparently wants to get wheelbarrowed by Steve again, asks how long Jim and Cindy are gone; Brenda says that they'll be gone Thursday - Sunday, and Kelly is a selfish, party-girl whore all, "So what time should we tell the people to get there?"

And Brenda's basically like, "Yeah, right," and neither of these twits has ever heard the word "no," so they're all, "You're not having a party? What's the prob?" And then Brenda clears it right up when she says, "Well, he's just about my age and his name begins with a 'B'," and cut to...

...this. And yes, that is a problem. Although, and I hate myself for saying this but, AHHHHHHHNdrea's dress might not be bad. It might even actually be good. Ew. I think I have like, Steve SAUNders AIDS now or something.

So Kelly asks if she should work on Brandon, and by "work on Brandon" she of course means "give Brandon a beej," but Brenda says that no, she'll talk to him first.

OH GOD. NO. Cindy's all psyched about the toiletries in their hotel room in Palm Springs. Because she apparently stays in Motel 6s all the time. Which given the state of her hair, I'm not surprised. CINDY. WHY ARE YOU CURLING THE TIP-TIP TOP OF YOUR LAYERS UP? LIKE, THAT JUST CREATES THESE REALLY TRASHY TIERS AND IT'S NOT 1976 AND THE "FARRAH FAWCETT" IS NO LONGER A THING.

NOOOOOoooo. Jim's all, "How's the bed?" and then flops down on it all horndog. And then he says, "Oooo," like trying to be all sexy-times, AND THEN MY VAGINA AND OVARIES SHRIVELED-UP AND DIED BECAUSE OBVIOUSLY MY GOD. And then it gets EVEN WORSE, IF SUCH A THING IS POSSIBLE, and Cindy says, "Is that good or bad?" and Jim's all fucking Julio Iglesias, "Come see for yourself." And then I seriously hit menopause at 32 because NO ONE should ever have to hear Jim "Jay Sherman" Walsh talk "sexy." NO ONE.

VOM. And then Cindy runs to put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door, and you know how much that gets fucking fetishist Jim going, so he pops a Woodrow, or twenty-seven of them...

...and meets her halfway back to the bed, all, "I got lonely," and he's talking all breathy and innuendo-y and it just gives me a case of the dry heaves and a possible aneurysm.

SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGH. THIS story line. SHOULD DIE. Seventeen-thousand deaths. So long, gross, barfy story short, the lock on the door between suites is broken, so these two fucking cliches, Trudy and Bob Barnett from "the Houston office" come barging in just as Jim was about to teabag Cindy. And they're really loud and abrasive and overly-friendly and MY GOD JUST WAIT.

House of Walsh. Brenda asks if Brandon wants some shitty Banquet TV dinners, and he doesn't so he's going to make them bologna sandwiches and can I just say that I love that Brenda changes into a new outfit after she gets home from school? I just feel like this really rings true, as I used to do this as well because I was, and am, a shallow, vapid asshole and apparently had to parade my entire wardrobe around for all to see. ANYway, way to go, show.

So Brenda attempts to slyly mention that they'll be hosting a party at their house that coming weekend, and Brandon, again thinking he's Jim, says no, and what if Mom and Dad find out, and shut the fuck up, Crybaby. If that happens, you'll just throw your sister under the bus again. NO BIG. So Brenda says they'll keep it strictly A-list like Donna did (AHAHAHAHAHAHA!) so I guess that means Brandon will have to leave the house for the night. And she knows he's afraid of people drinking, but even if they do, they (Brenda and Brandon) don't have to; they have their own set of Walsh Rules to abide by. And then Brenda shoves it in Brandon's face that he owes her one, so basically, CAN IT, BRANDO. PARTY AT THE MOON TOWER. And by "MOON TOWER," I of course mean, "HOUSE OF WALSH."

BACK TO THIS FUCKING NIGHTMARE. Jim and Cindy kick it Opening Credits Style...

...and then these two come in and interrupt. Nice fucking BOA, Trudy. Like, I didn't realize anyone actually wore those other than Liza Minelli and Liberace. Oh, and Bob's dressed like Colonel Sanders (SAUNders) and brought some fried chicken to share.

Also: Cindy might look okay. She certainly favors that cut of dress. But I actually think it looks very nice on her. And her hair maybe looks decent? The feathery bits are a little bit more combed out than usual.

Next day at West Bev: Brenda's back to wearing Shaq's castoffs, and Kelly's wearing a probably-bodysuit and some kind of billowy jam-pants...I think? Either way: disgusting. So Brenda's explaining that loser Brandon finally gave in, but that they have to "promise to keep it under twenty-five, max," which Kelly doesn't think will be a problem; they just have to meet their quota of cute guys. Which, AGAIN, means that Steve and Brandon aren't invited.

And neither are these tool sheds. SCOTT: TAKE OFF THE HAT. TAKE IT OFF NOW.

And then: AWW! Brenda approaches Dylan and he says, "Hey, beautiful!" GIMME A BREAK. And Brenda tells him about her and Brandon's party, and Dylan is not jazzed, but because he promised her that he'd hang out this weekend, he'll be there. Dylan's such a great guy. Until he won't be about a season-and-a-half from now. But we don't like to think about that. And yes, Dylan's wearing a fucking MOCK TURTLENECK SWEATER, but you know what? HE CAN.

MY HEAD HURTS. So Brandon's wearing the same low-rent shirt that he was wearing at the beginning of "The Gentle Art of Listening" episode, and AHHHHHHNdrea's wearing...a seriously cute plaid blazer and I think I need to go live in the home with Wanda, because WHY IS AHHHHHHNDREA WEARING CUTE CLOTHING ALL OF A SUDDEN? IS THIS REAL LIFE?

ANYway, she asks Brandon to see some play with her that weekend, a "comedy from New York," like WHAT THE FUCK does that even mean? And Brandon's all, "There's a party at my house, and it's Brenda's gig, she obviously didn't invite you, but you're more than welcome to come and crash it after your stupid play-thing."

And then MEGA-DORK AHHHHHHHNdrea is all excited because she thinks she might see Brandon's dong later that night and whatever. The tedious dance these two do for EONS to come is just so damn...tedious. And there's not even any kind of payoff because it's not like they ever get together and Do The It. It's boring and lame and manipulative (on Brandon's part, OF COURSE) and I hate it and hate them and THE END. FOREVER.

House of Walsh, pre-party: Brandon's asking Brenda how many people are coming, and she's guessing somewhere around fifteen. And look, this may not be popular opinion, but I really dig what Brenda's wearing. I guess I just really like her in menswear-inspired stuff. And it may not be the most flattering pants-suit, but it works. For me. As does her hair. DON'T JUDGE ME.

And then, WHAT A SHOCK, "Two-hundred-fifty of [their] closest friends" show up. WAH WAH. And if you didn't see that coming from 90,210 miles away, you should die. And I should die for what I just typed.

SERIOUSLY? BACK TO THESE TWO? Scott, wearing WHAT ELSE, and David, in the New Order shirt he's worn several times previously on the show. And I would've given Gryffindor seventeen-hundred points for it, but I just loathe David so, so much. He actually makes New Order less cool. So, thanks for that, Big Dave.

So Kelly is attempting to hide from Steve, who is 41. Good thinking, Kelly.

But he gets her attention and wants to give her more to drink so he can take advantage of her later. He picked up some tips from the Rapey Chads, apparently. And Kelly knows what he's doing, all, "Are you trying to get me blitzed?" and then LETS THE GODDAMN SKEEVE GIVE HER MORE TO DRINK. Oh, and I think her and Donna are rocking bodysuits: velvet for Donna; lace for Kelly; heinous for everybody.

So Brenda is rightfully pissed, knowing that Kelly was a big old blabbermouth and invited half the West Side to the party. Which Kelly basically cops to, saying she invited some kids from Beverly. And then Brenda's all, "And you said you weren't going to drink," and Kelly attempts to give her the line about "sipping, not drinking" and Brenda IS A BADASS and basically says, "Look where it got you last weekend, hag," like, seriously. STEVE'S PENIS WAS INSIDE OF YOU, KELLY. You should...really just slit your wrists and call it a day. Or a life.

So then Brenda tells Kelly that her and Brandon made a pact to not drink that night, but of course (as Kelly points out to Brenda) Horrible, Horrible Brandon broke their pact and is hammering back drinks with Steve and my mortal enemy Butch. Brandon is, of course, The Worst, Always & Forever.

So, HURRAH, Dylan shows up, and NOT HURRAH, he's sporting the Steve SAUNders Special. It's like a goddamn plague. ANYway, Brenda's all thrilled to see Dylan, because WHO WOULDN'T BE, and then something breaks so she has to run into the kitchen to find out what happened. ARE WE ALMOST TO BRANDON'S CAR ACCIDENT YET?

So Brenda's cleaning up the mess, and the phone rings, and Kelly Is The Stupidest Bitch On Planet Earth, because she picks up the call all, "Party hotline! Make all your dreams come true!" LIKE, FOR FUCK'S SAKE, I CAN'T EVEN. Given that the Walshes could be calling at any given time, FOR WHY would you answer it like that, you twat? Also: YOUR JEANS ARE GIVING ME A MIGRAINE AND PROBABLY A YEAST INFECTION.

Brenda is in agreement with me that Kelly is an ignorant slut.

HEY. What could possibly make Donna's velvet probably-bodysuit more hideous? An ENORMOUS HOLE cut out of the back of it, that's what! So Brenda's on the phone with Cindy (as Donna tells her that there are cops outside), lying easily once again all, "Oh, the noise is the stereo," and, "Brandon's upstairs and the pizza man just got here and I've got to go."

And because Cindy is also an ignorant slut with horrifying hair, she believes Brenda and she and Jim head off to some degenerate wife-swapping gathering. Probably, I mean.

I...can't. But I suppose I have to: Steve is 41 and he and Brandon are about to do shots of his new drink, which is called a Purple Pleasure. Oh, Steve. YOU WASTE OF A HUMAN BEING. So they say, "NOSTROVIA!" and then after the shot, they headbutt each other and both get massive concussions and bleeding around the brain and then they're both brain-dead and they're immediately and simultaneously taken off life support and they die and THE END. NO MORE STEVE AND BRANDON. Except not, because we have like, twenty-seven more years to deal with these worthless nincompoops.

Brenda is PISSED some more. And Brandon is dressed like FUCKING Glen. And Brenda reminds Brandon of their Walsh Pact To Not Drink.

And then, OH GEE, Brandon gets this face on and becomes all belligerent and defensive, all, "First you call me a goody-goody, then you get on my case for having a good time...what's the deal?" Keep in mind that Jason Priestley is not very good at conveying "drunk," so this whole supposedly-inebriated speech is kind of a joke. As is Brandon.

So Brenda shows Brandon through the window that the cops have arrived. And she is SCARED, Y'ALL. But has a great shade of lipstick on. So, there's that.

And then OH MY GOD I CAN'T UN-HEAR THIS KILL ME NOW Brandon pulls out a, "Don't have a cow, man" Bart Simpson NO NO NO NO NO. Look, I lived through the era when The Simpsons was new and exciting and everyone was spouting off quotes from the show left and right. My brother and I even had t-shirts, and I think mine was Bart with Don't have a cow, man emblazoned on it with him on a skateboard or something. And maybe because I'M OLD and it's like, 90 years later and it just feels so very, very dated, but Jason Priestley's reading of that line, and his attempted Bart-impression (which was really more Jeff Spicoli than anything) seriously made me want to shower myself with jagged river rock and then fall into a Xanax-induced coma. For the next 90 years.

So Idiot Brandon is going out to talk to the cops. And Dylan's all wise and like, "If the cops get a whiff of your stank Purple Pleasure breath, they're TOTES going to break up this party. For sure." Dylan Knows, you guys. Of The Underage Drinking.

So speaking of stank: as Brenda and Dylan go out to talk to the police, this girl throws them a funked-up, rude-ass look, like look here, PINK DRESS AND AMELIA EARHART JACKET THAT YOU PROBABLY STOLE FROM DYLAN: GET BENT.

So...the jacket on Brenda's suit might not be good. Whatever. ANYway, the cops are onto the fact that Jim and Cindy won't be home until Sunday night, and the neighbors called on the noise levels, and Our Dylan is a hero and tells the officers that Brenda is his cousin and it's her birthday and he cranked up the volume on the music a little too much in celebration and they'll keep it down and MARRY ME, DYLAN.

But first: BURN THE STEVE SAUNDERS SPECIAL, BURN IT TO THE GROUND.

HEAVEN HELP ME. Brandon, not a care in the world, is convening with 41-year-old Steve and my arch-nemesis Butch and they're talking about Steve's way-lame Purple Pleasure and that it has "seven essential ingredients, including vitamins A, B, C, and T." And OH MY GOD DEATH'S SWEET EMBRACE IS THAT YOU? Brandon's all like, "T?" And then Steve and stupid Butch are like, "TEQUILA!" and I really, really can't with this anymore. I. CAN'T.

So Wise Dylan takes Brandon aside to tell him that he's a life-ruiner and that everyone hates him and his drunk ass. Basically.

And then he kind of does his Robert DeNiro impression and offers Brandon some coffee and I really think that's just an old wives' tale. AND YES DYLAN HAS A LOT OF FOREHEAD WRINKLES I DON'T CARE. And Brandon declines because he sees...

...Grandma Zuckerman arrive at the party, and he really wants to drunkenly tap her school marmish ass later that night. Peace out, D!

And then Our Dylan is all sad and disappointed in way-lame Brandon.

So these two buzzkills talk about the stupid "New York comedy" that AHHHHHHHHNdrea saw earlier. Probably alone. And Brandon's glad she came because he has total beer goggles on at the moment, and he offers her a sip of his Purple Pleasure (I DON'T WANT TO TYPE THAT ANYMORE) and she says it's horrible and that she only likes prune juice and lukewarm tap water, and then they go to dance.

FUCKING HOT TUB GROSSOSITY. PUT IT AWAY, JIM. PUT IT AWAY, NOW.

I really want to slide down a wall and crumple into a fetal position while talking about this FUCKING MESS OF A STORY LINE. I'll try to keep it quick and relatively heave-free: these two monsters approach Jim and Cindy in the hot tub, and Jim wants to hide, but it's too late! Bob and Trudy have already spotted them.

So Jim's talking about an early racquetball game they have the next day, attempting to get the hell away from the Barnett's. And Cindy looks like a relic from 1981.

And then Trudy SERIOUSLY SAYS, "C'mon Jim. I've been waiting to go around the goosey-goosey, ducky-ducky with you," LIKE SWEET SHIT LUCIFER TAKE ME NOW. So, yes: Bob and Trudy are swingers, and wanted to swap it up with Jim and Cindy. And even though Jim was acting like a goddamn depraved creep about this entire weekend getaway, he does not want to pass Cindy off to Bob, nor pump and dump Trudy. Perhaps he was just hoping to be propositioned by a more attractive couple who also gets off on Andes Mints.

I'M SERIOUSLY COMMITTING SUICIDE RIGHT NOW. And I think David is some kind of Cro Magnon man, as his hairline is like, at his goddamn eyebrows. ANYway, in yet another completely antiquated reference, David says that Kelly's as good-looking as Christie Brinkley and Scottie and his BANGS say that David's "no Billy Joel." Once again: OH, THE FUCKING EARLY-90S.

Anyway, Steve is attempting to get into Kelly's Bacterial Vaginosis Jeans, plying her with more alcohol. Kelly's says that she's not interested, and then...

...grabs David to dance in order to get away from Steve. Which I'm certain she will regret because have you seen David dance? It is...not good.

So in the DORK CORNER of the living room, AHHHHHHNdrea's doing...that. Like, the Running Man or something. Anyway, she thinks she's all Paula Abdul, and Brandon, who also dances like a complete feeb, asks her if she's having a good time, and AHHHHHHHNdrea thinks she's flirting and says, "I haven't made up my mind yet," and GUUUUURRRL, YOU ARE JUST SO SAUCY.

And then because Brandon is an emotionally abusive drunken goon, he kisses AHHHHHHHNdrea. And even though this is basically AHHHHHHNdrea's wet dream come true, she tells him to back off, and that she's never seen him drunk and the first time he is, he kisses her and WHATEVER, AHHHHHHHNDREA. You loved it.

HERE WE GO. So for the twenty-seventh time this episode, Brandon gets all shitty and gross and starts BLAMING AHHHHHNDREA for his behavior, all, "Why do you have to edit everything I do? I'm not a newspaper article. I mean, I finally get to a place where I can kick back and no one can handle it." And if that's not the siren song of a raging alcoholic, I don't know what is.

So AHHHHHHHNdrea, finally sticking up for herself in the face of this loser for once, is all, "Peace out, Bran Man. You need to get a handle on your life, your clothes, your horrendous personality, and your goddamn hair."

So Steve, who's wearing like, the EXACT OPPOSITE of the Steve SAUNders Special, and my eternal foe Butch, approach Brandon to tell him that there's "big-time trouble: the liquor is no longer." And Brandon honestly says, "Ooooo, meltdown," like SHUT.UP.BRAN.DUUUUUUN. I HATE YOU. Steve, who has no respect for anyone or anything, asks if Jim and Cindy have a stash they can thieve from, and Brandon, suddenly honoring his parents rules is all, "No, no, no, don't even think about it." And then these lame-brains come up with the ingenious plan to go out and score some booze. WHATEVER.

HEY! Kelly's top isn't a bodysuit - PRAISE. Anyway, she tells David he's a good dancer, like, shut up, Kelly. Don't encourage him. And besides, he is very obviously not a good dancer, per this still right here and per future evidence. And then he steps on her toe and no one cares.

So these two lovebirds are out front and Dylan's telling Brenda that he'll help her kick all of the people out of the house by one o'clock at the latest. And Brenda's afraid they won't leave and Dylan says that they can have a slumber party, and Brenda's not amused (WHATEVER) and Dylan says that he will get them all out of her house for a small, nominal fee, and then...

...there is kissing. Which is unfortunately interrupted by...

...these foolios, like, shut up, Butch, and get back on the set of Miami Vice...

...and this shitbag. Steve calls Brandon a "soldier," BARF, and tells him that he and Butch are going to his house for the alcohol and Brandon will go to the market for food and fruit punch. MOVE IT ALONG, SHOW.

So Brandon's driving along, reapplying rouge to his cheeks in the rear view mirror, and he does all of these majorly dangerous maneuvers around cars on the road like, he's probably popping a Woodrow thinking he's some goddamn Nascar driver.

And then out from a driveway pulls this guy...

...and Brandon is toast, y'all. I mean, I hope. But I know that he's really not. Unfortunately.

YOW. BACK TO THIS FUCKING HELLISH FREAKSHOW. Cindy asks Jim if...excuse me while I attempt to swallow the bile that has suddenly filled my mouth...if...if he'd like to "try again." FOR THE LOVE THAT IS HIGH AND HOLY, FUCKING FUCK NO. Imagining Jim's limp...you-know-what (thanks, Kel!) induces in me a burning desire to KILL MYSELF. REPEATEDLY. And then Jim, THE GODDAMN KING OF NASTY, says, "Why beat a dead horse (IS THAT WHAT HE CALLS HIS WANG?)?" and also that he can't get Trudy saying that she wants to play Bucking Bronco (????????) with them out of his head, and WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH THE EQUINE THEME HERE???

THANK HEAVENS, Brenda calls to interrupt this little gag-fest.

Dylan's all Caring, Supportive Boyfriend as Brenda tells Jim and Cindy that Brandon was in a car accident and that he's okay (UNFORTUNATELY), but that he's in jail because he's a no-good buffoon who was drunk-driving.

THEY ARE SHOCKED. And Cindy looks on the verge of vomiting at the thought of seeing Jim's lifeless penis again.

Fortunately for her and THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE, she doesn't have to worry about that, because they have to go bail this little turd out of jail the next morning.

And he apparently went really heavy with the rouge while in prison. Maybe someone made him their bitch.

Jailhouse waiting room: Cindy says that this is a parent's worst nightmare, and Jim's all sunshine and daisies and basically says, "No, a parent's worst nightmare is having Brandon for a son. But also having to go to the morgue to I.D. their kid," like, thanks for the optimism, Jimbo!

So The Persecuted One comes out...

...and these two are basically like, "Whatevs. No big. We know you totally could've taken someone else's life, but we'll, like, talk about this later at home or something. How 'bout we swing by The Pit for a slice of peach pie?" Anyway, just keep this little NON-reaction in mind next season when Brenda sneaks down to Mexico with Dylan and Jim has to pick her up at the border patrol office. And then the aftermath. I'm not saying that Brenda will be right in that circumstance, but given the fact that Brandon could've KILLED SOMEONE, LIKE, GOD, I would think they would be a little more upset. In conclusion: JIM SUCKS. AND SO DOES CINDY AND HER SHABBY, SHABBY HAIR.

So as they're on their way out, Brandon lets it slip that they had a party at the house the night before. And then stupid Jim REALLY FLIPS HIS LID.

They get home to find Brenda scrubbing stains out of the rugs. Pantsless. Or something. I...don't know.

And Brenda attempts to downplay the whole thing. And she fails. She says that she just invited a few people, and then it got a little out of hand. This is...not helping, Bren.

So Jim in his Ralph Lauren and Cindy with gigantic bags under her eyes, tell Brenda that the stains aren't going to come out of the carpet, and that all those kids were in their house without their permission and drinking beer and wine and "whatever else you were serving."

And Brenda's all, "We didn't serve shit!" and says that some people showed up and brought liquor and zzzzzzzzz. This is boring. I am over this. Mostly because Brandon is still alive. ANYway, she asks about Jim and his stupid Old Timey college days, and he says that him and his (pretend) friends would go back to their frat house (WHATEVER, JIM) and not to one of their parents' houses and blah blah Jim totally didn't scream Brandon down like this after finding out about him DRIVING DRUNK blah. Brenda says that she didn't break the rules because she didn't drink. And Jim is shitty and doesn't believe her because OF COURSE, and then IT'S A MIRACLE...

...BECAUSE BRANDON SAYS, "Brenda wasn't drinking, Dad. I was." WOW. I'm surprised he didn't lie and tell them that he caught her doing keg stands, and like, smoking meth in the Jack and Jill bathroom upstairs. ANYway, Jim says he knows Brandon drank, because he read the police report (good one, Jay Sherman!). And then Jim's all, "Why were you, my little prince, drinking?" and Brenda says it's hard out there for a gangster, or a dude, and there's a lot of pressure on guys to drink. Or some nonsense. And Brandon interrupts to say that that's not it, but that he can't explain it. And Cindy says he should try, because ever since some apparent drinking binge at a "Fosters Lake," Brandon's made a big, old point about how drinking is stupid.

And Jim's all Concerned Jim Face and says that Brandon promised them he wouldn't do it again.

And then Brandon's a big goddamn liar and says that he never did until the night before, all, "And it was only because some jerk handed me some punch and didn't tell me it was spiked. By the time I knew what it was I was already halfway looped. And now I'm gonna have a record. So I guess you could say I screwed up. I guess you could say I'm not perfect." AND FUCKING HOLY CHRIST I LOATHE BRANDON. HE IS LIKE, AWFUL. JUST STRAIGHT-UP AWFUL. NO ONE FEELS SORRY FOR YOU, YOU PUSTULE.

Certainly not Brenda, who knows it's all a huge fib. But Cindy plays into Brandon's manipulation all, "No one is perfect. But why did you have to get behind the wheel?" and cut to...

YOU CLEVER, CLEVER SHOW.

So Brenda stomps out all, "Hey, you filthy fucking liar," and Brandon says he could turn his bike into a tandem, or she could "buck the odds" and attempt to get her driver's license again, like, EAT SHIT, BRANDON. Way to degrade your sister WHEN YOU'RE TO BLAME FOR ALL OF THIS. Butt munch.

FUUUUUUUUUUCK. So Brenda asks why he lied, and Brandon says it wasn't exactly a lie, but Brenda calls him on it, and he gets his Patented Abrasive Brandon Face on and reprimands Brenda all, "I'm coming off the worst night of my life, so if I have to bend the chronology of my downfall [OH, PLEASE], I'd hope you could cut me a little slack." Poor crucified Brandon. He really is a Martyr Among Men.

ARE WE DONE YET? So this sad-sack is at his locker the following Monday, acting all...sad-sacky.

And AHHHHHHNdrea approaches in her shit-colored sweater vest, hoping that Brandon will profess his undying love and devotion to her following their kiss at the party. Because alcohol is truth serum, after all. But Anus Brandon doesn't do that, but she tells him that she's glad he's okay, and he says that he is, too. Again: WHATEVER.

So Kelly's wearing a lampshade-looking vest-deal, and Donna's WEARING A BRA. AS A TOP. TO SCHOOL. And Kelly asks Brenda if she's grounded forever and Brenda says that they have to pay to get all the carpets cleaned and blah blah GET TO THE END OF THE EPISODE SHOW I AM DONE WITH THIS blah. And Donna, who is unhelpful, says that everyone is saying that it was the best party of the year. I'm certain the man Brandon almost killed in his Purple Pleasure-induced stupor will be very glad to hear that.

LORD. David dedicates the song that he an Kelly danced to. To Kelly. NOBODY CARES. AT ALL.

Kelly is rightfully horrified. And quit laughing, Donna. You'll end up marrying that bag of douche.

And then Brenda says that she's off the party-circuit, and Dylan is glad, and is hair is getting oodles better and I love his jacket. It looks like a Dickies. And then unfortunately, Dylan asks after Brandon, and Brenda doesn't say anything because apparently Brandon is like, so traumatized after almost murdering someone and getting in trouble for it. POOR, VILIFIED BRANDON, YOU GUYS.

So Dylan sneaks into The Peach Pit after hours to kill Brandon. I hope.

Except not. He just goes there to ONCE AGAIN play into Brandon's little woe-is-me routine, which is just so, so tired at this point. So Dylan's all, "Talk about a fender-bender," like, nice conversation starter, Dylan!

And he tells Brandon that Brenda told him that everything worked out at the hearing (that was quick!) and then Brandon's Droopy Dog, all, "Yeah, in three weeks I can apply for permission to drive to and from work and school. 'Til then it's back to bicycle basics." POOR YOU! And Dylan is basically attempting to get Brandon to look at the big picture all, "You were lucky." And Brandon doesn't get it and is a selfish git as always and says all sarcastically, "I know; I'm lucky to be alive."

AND THANK FUCKING GOD DYLAN IS THERE TO BRING SOME GODDAMN PERSPECTIVE TO THIS DWEEB, ALL, "I was gonna say you're lucky you didn't kill someone else," like, THANK YOU, DYLAN. No one else cared or had the balls to tell Brandon this. Which he really should've realized on his own. But because he's the exact opposite of self-aware, he didn't.

And Brandon still doesn't get it (HE NEVER WILL) and says, "I gotta look on the bright side, right?" like, WTF? Like, yeah, I'd say it's a GOOD THING that you didn't kill someone, ass. And then Dylan's all like, "Or the dark side," whatever that means. And Brandon, AGAIN WITH THE MARTYR ROUTINE, is all, "Most people don't think I have one," and Dylan says, "Everyone has one; you just hide it better than most. You're not doing so good, huh?" Like, Dylan? STOP. This is exactly what this nimrod wants. So Brandon goes into yet another monologue about how being in a jail cell for 20 minutes felt like 20 years (because he, a 16-year-old, knows what 20 years feels like) and that he can't get the sound of the crash and the death cries of the guy he hit out of his head. I mean, I assume. And that Cindy and Jim have been cool but there's a dark cloud hanging over the House of Walsh with a big neon sign on it (WHAT?) flashing "disappointment" and what in holy hell is this doofus talking about??? And then he says that he really wants to just go out and get wasted, to show them that he can do what he wants. Brandon: YOU ARE 7.

And Dylan, all mysterioso, says, "I know just the place." WHUH???

"Just the place" means West Bev. And Brandon says that he sees enough of it during the day. And Dylan looks way-good in that jacket and cherry-colored Docs. The jeans? Well, they're an improvement, but the denim of yore was just really not good at all.

So they enter a room and the kid standing up is all, "My name's Bill, and I'm an alcoholic." And then a bunch of other kids do the same. And THEN...

"Hi, everybody. I'm Dylan. And I'm an alcoholic," and WAIT, DYLAN'S AN ALCOHOLIC??? I HAD NO IDEA I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING. Except that I did. Also: he'll only be an alcoholic until the 9th season when he returns to the series and is boozing it up, no problem, and no one cares. Like, how many goddamn Dylan's An Alcoholic story lines will we have to endure before that that will basically mean nothing in the long run? INFINITY. Also: Brandon's mind? BLOWN. 

So after the AA Meeting For Teens, Dylan takes Brandon home and they sit in the Walsh driveway and one of them looks really good here, and one of them does not look really good here. I'll let you decipher which is which. And then myopic, self-centered Brandon is all, "I never knew so many kids had a problem," and you know what my problem is? BRANDON WALSH. And Dylan says that he's been in Brandon's shoes before and blah blah Bros For Life blah.

And then uncouth Brandon does that, all climbing up and out of Dylan's car and smudging up the windshield with his grubby paws and probably getting dog shit all over the upholstery AND MY GOD WERE YOU RAISED IN A BARN.

He gets inside and Jay Sherman is reading Cindy's Encyclopedia Britannica. And he wants to talk.

And Brandon looks like serious white trash here and says that he needs to talk to Jim, too. And then he doesn't really tell the truth, and it's all very vague like, "The other night wasn't exactly the first time I had a drink," and WE ALREADY KNEW THAT, since we learned just a few minutes ago that it was at some Fosters Lake in Minnesota, so this isn't actually any kind of revelation.

But Jim buys into it, since Brandon Can Do No Wrong, which is gross, whatever. And then Brandon asks how Jim knew (BECAUSE THE FIRST GODDAMN TIME YOU DRANK WAS AT SOME GODFORSAKEN "FOSTERS LAKE" WE'VE BEEN OVER THIS LIKE, TWICE NOW) and Jim, getting Old Timey for the third time this episode, says, "Believe or not, I was your age once, too."

And Brandon says, get this, "So you lived to tell about it?" Um. Well. SINCE HE'S FUCKING STANDING RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU, AND SINCE YOU EXIST ON THE PLANET, YES, YES HE DID LIVE TO TELL ABOUT IT, YOU NINNY. And Jim says, "So will you, Brandon," and the Keyboard Of Fatherly Understanding kicks in and SWEET RELIEF, THIS IS THE END. See you next time for another episode that revolves around Brandon, like I hope I go blind and deaf and lose the use of my fingers before then. No, seriously.

All images courtesy of bh90210.fanfusion.org, Google.