Season 2; Episode 6 - Pass, Not Pass: I Will Pass On Everything In This Episode Except For The Beatdown Brenda's Right Palm Puts On AHHHHHHHHNdrea's Left Cheek.

In which BRENDA SLAPS AHHHHHHHHHNDREA.  That's all you need to know.  Let's dance.

We open at the House Of Walsh.

Inside Brenda's room, AHHHHHNdrea's being the grade-grubbing dork we've all come to know and detest and pestering Brenda about choosing a scene to act out for their final in Garg's drama class.  Brenda wants to do Annie Hall because she looks good in hats:

Which: no comment.  But Doll Brenda my boyfriend bought me came with a bunch of accessories and here's what she looks like with a hat on:

Again: no comment.  And yes: Doll Brenda came with a stand that rides up her genitals and has "BRENDA WALSH" emblazoned across the bottom of it.  What I'm trying to say is that Doll Brenda is just as fabulous as Real Brenda.  Moving along.

So AHHHHHHHNdrea, in another top the wardrobe department picked up at Limited Too, advises Brenda, "You're Mr. Suitor's pet.  I have never performed in this class before, I have to do well in order to pass," leading to the conclusion that only Brenda, Donna and Big Dave have performed in the class? I guess? Garg is doing the West Beverly Hills School District proud, I see.

So then Six LeMeure...I mean, Brenda, gets all excited because she thinks that because she's teacher's pet, Garg wants to do her.  Which is probably true.  But since he's a giant, molesting, statutory rapist perv, he probably wants to do all the girls in his class.  Including David.

And then AHHHHHNdrea gets her granny-panties in a twist and is all scandalized that Brenda apparently wants to date Garg (even though AHHHHHHNdrea will actually date, i.e. give a handy to, Garg, and continue to date [and marry] the Old & Inappropriate for the remainder of her time on the show), but much like Jackie with Mel, Brenda has apparently suffered a traumatic brain injury, seeing as she goes onto describe Garg thusly:  "He's creative.  He's articulate.  He's intelligent.  And he looks pretty good in faded jeans."  There's not enough vomit in my stomach or the world for me to forcefully eject out of my person after hearing that one.  So please.  Let's just move on.

Quick cut to the beach.

And a bunch of scenes of people surfing, including Dylan! apparently, seeing as his stunt double from the opening credits is tearin' up those thrashin reef breaks.

And then: dolphins! And time for another exciting edition of I Live In L.A.! I know you've all been dying to hear another fascinating story about my adventures in the City of Angels.  And by "dying to hear another fascinating story about my adventures in the City of Angels" I of course mean, "genuflecting and praying upon prayer to not have to be subjected to another non-fascinating non-story about my non-adventures in Don't Ever Call It The Fucking 'City of Angels' Ever Again."  ANYHOW, here goes:  After a few months of living here, my boyfriend and I finally made our first trek to the beach (well, second, if you count our Venice debacle, which I don't because GROSS) somewhere in Malibu.  We went in April, which was perfect because the beach was barren.  Because, as previously discussed here, even though it's pretty much 75 and sunny here year-round, going to the beach in April is comparable to going to the beach on Long Island, NY in January.  Whatever. So lucky for us, there was only a scattering of like, five people.  ANYWAY, to cut this non-enrapturing, non-enthralling story short, this is where I saw my first, real live dolphins! And I flipped ALL the fucks out.  And was hopping up and down clapping and "YAY"ing and the five other people on the beach were looking at me like I was crazy, but it's not like fucking dolphin sightings are a daily occurrence in Denver, Colorado, so fuck off, Rando People On The Beach Who Pretty Astutely Figured Out I Am A Mental Patient, But Not For The Reasons They Thought.  Aaaaaand, FIN.

Over to the BHBC.

Kelly and Steve head to a couple of lounge chairs and Steve is rocking The Ultimate Steve SAUNders Summer Special Sans Bunchy Tour de France Hat.  THOSE SUNGLASSES, though.  FUCK.  So Kelly's going on about it getting darker earlier and seeing a bunch of back-to-school sales around town and Steve doesn't want to hear it.  I in turn tell Steve that NO ONE, ANYWHERE EVER wants to hear ANYTHING that comes out of his maw, but as per usual, he doesn't listen.

And then Steve notices a rash on Kelly's arm and she tells him, "It's no big deal.  I just start to get a little eczema when Labor Day looms on the horizon."  I wonder what excuse she uses when the rash on her clitoris pops up every 6 weeks or so.

Also: I've never been so offended by someone's appearance in my entire life.

So then of course Brandon and his barrel-brush-curled forelock come up, asking in Typical Dildo Brandon Fashion, "So, what can I get for you two crazy kids, huh?"

And Steve really wants us to see the outline of his fuzzy bulge.  Thanks be to EVERYTHING for garish swim trunks.  And then he orders a "gin and tonic with crushed ice, twist of lime" which I wouldn't be surprised if Brandon brought him, seeing as Brandon seems to be helpless under the gaze of Steve's Power Mullet.  And then Kelly sees a flier advertising the the BHBC end-of-summer luau and Steve's all, "Yeah, pretty soon I'll be fighting over a parking spot at West Beverly," with his appallingly-license-plated car.

But Brandon has to make it All About Him and say, "No, we'll be fighting over parking spots, I've almost got enough for my 'stang," and Steve's all, "That '65 'stang?" and FOR THE LOVE OF ZEUS, STOP SAYING "'STANG." Anyway, Brandon answers with, "Supremely yellow, in mint condition," and yes.  I'm certain Brandon's earned enough as a fucking cabana boy in 2 1/2 months time to afford a "mint condition" anything.  FUCK OFF.

So then Worthless Henry comes up to get in a few of his last lines of the season with, "And this should put you over the top," handing Brandon his most-definitely paltry paycheck.  But apparently Brandon rakes in the big bucks as, I repeat, a fucking cabana boy, because he looks at the check and then says, "I'm so there," all Surf Brah StyleZ.  Worthless Henry doesn't realize that Worthless Nat is currently waiting in the wings to spout off some nonsense dreck-masquerading-as-advice later in the episode, so he tells Brandon, "You know, when I got my '57 'bird [Add "'bird" to the list next to "'stang," please] I became my own man.  When you are cruising in your dream car, it's a whole new road out there." Seriously: Henry and Nat are interchangeable....you know, except for the whole black thing.  And I guess Henry's hair isn't trashy like Nat's, either.

Later that evening, we're at some bookstore somewhere.

AHHHHHNdrea's doing some Dork Research on something.  Her and Brenda's scene? I don't know.  Nor do I care.

And then she starts talking to herself, presumably practicing a line from their as-of-yet undecided scene? And she does this god-awful British accent, all, "I know...I know my dea-ah...I know my dea-ah," and I'm certain all of the other customers really appreciate this mousy, horribly-coiffed 35-year-old's reciting of lines, all loud and horrible in a public fucking bookstore.

YIKES.  So this predator strolls up and ookily watches AHHHHHHNdrea being rude, desperate and terrible for a few seconds and then startles her with, "AHHHHHNdrea Zuckerman.  Browsing in a bookstore."

So then AHHHHHNdrea thinks she's clever (she's not) and says, "Mr. Suitor.  Doing the same." And then because Garg has set his sights on AHHHHHHNdrea, because he can sense what an insecure loser she is and how easy it will be to take advantage of her nerdly cooze, he goes into his Chester Molester bit (honestly, he and Mel should hang) with, "You know, it seems a little unfair that I can call you AHHHHHndrea and you can't call me Chris," and AHHHHHNdrea's all, "Student-teacher dynamics, I guess."  So then he attempts to gain her trust like any good pedophile and tells her, "Well let's say we change our dynamics, right here and now.  We'll have our own private revolution...AHHHHNdrea." And because AHHHHHHHNdrea is, as previously mentioned, a fucking friendless geek, she falls for his gross game all, "Okay...Chris." And then he probably got her to go back to his place to take some pictures of her in her bra but they cut that scene out.

H.O.W., the next whatever.

Brandon's yammering on and on about his new car and how it's been "completely detailed and rechromed; it's got the original paint, the original leather seats, the original radio." So Jim is a non-cretin this episode (for the most part; until, as so many before, the last act) and asks, "Yeah, but how does she run, son?" So because Brandon is the exact definition of "dunce," he tells his father, "Well, the guy at the lot says she purrs like a kitten and runs like a cheetah," and he's never test-driven the car? Or had his own mechanic check it out??? Seriously.  What a fucking dolt.  Anyway, Jim wants to go with Brandon to pick up the car but Brandon wants to do it all on his own so that he can royally fuck things up, and then he mentions having to stop at the bank for a cashier's check and Jim's all, "Cashier's check? Brandon, if they don't trust a personal check from you I wouldn't be too confident about trusting them."

Poor Cindy's sitting there thinking about where it all went wrong and when her life came down to listening to these two jackasses kerfuffle over a car.

Anyway, Brandon and his sick-making hair and Blush-and-Bashful rouge tell Jim, "Hey, Dad, this isn't Minnesota.  Besides, what's the big deal? Simon's been holding the car for me all summer," to which I again say, "AS IF." And THEN my head EXPLODES and I am currently writing this from the Detonated Cranium wing of the hospital, because Brandon says, "And, since I'm buying it with my own money that I worked very hard for, I think it'll be cool." To which I say, "OH. PLEEEEEEEEEASE," and, "What address can I send this hospital bill to, Brandon, you runny, blood-speckled, corn-kernel-flecked, fly-covered piece of excrement?"

So Brenda comes flying into the kitchen for enough time for Cindy to tell her, "Oh, while you were in the shower, Hawaii called," and because Brenda is under some kind of voodoo spell that Garg placed on her, all she says is, "Thanks, Mom," and then hurries along her way.  And then Jim's all, "Dylan McKay calls from Hawaii and Brenda doesn't scream at you for not dragging her out of the shower?" and Cindy loves Our Dylan just as much as we do and says, "Poor Dylan.  I guess it's outta sight, outta mind." Oh, and then Brandon talks rubbish about being his own wee little man and getting the car on his own again and truly no one cares in the slightest.

Over to West Bev we go.

CHRIST.  Donna and David practice some kind of embarrassing mime-whatever for their final in Garg's class.  As if David couldn't get any more unbearable.

Cut over to AHHHHHHHNdrea, wearing Rose Nylund's favorite blouse, and Brenda, wearing poop-smear, still arguing over what scene they're going to perform, and AHHHHHHNdrea brings up The Turning Point all, "It's about these two women and their dynamics together, you know, how their lives intersected, their relationships with men..." and Brenda tells her that, "I don't wanna intersect," because NO ONE wants to intersect with AHHHHHNdrea, EVER, "I wanna do a comedy."  And AHHHHHNdrea informs Brenda that she, Brenda, has already done comedy (when was that???) and advises, "Mr. Suitor suggested it."  So Brenda gets all moist in the crotch and tells AHHHHHNdrea, "Why don't we try it out and we'll see how it goes."

She then heads over to Garg, wearing a shirt that was required of every male who ever lived at any point in the 1990s, and says, "Hi.  You know, the scene from The Turning Point was really a terrific idea.  I was already thinking of taking a risk on a dynamic character piece," and oh, Brenda.  This douche is so not worth lie-telling for.

So then Garg proves he's a wide-nosed sexual-deviant and gets all close to Brenda and tells her that he paired AHHHHHHNdrea up with her purposefully because AHHHHHHHNdrea's an untalented dork with stage-fright (basically) and Brenda would be able to help her "open up." Which is probably the line Garg will be using on AHHHHHHNdrea himself later.  So Brenda says that she's flattered and Garg tells her, "No, you're talented," in this really Garg-y, gross, skin-crawly way.  Garg: sending shivers down spines since 1991.

Over to the used car lot and SWEET MOTHER I would Tawny Kitaen myself ALLLLLLLL over that hood.  (Except my dream Mustang is a hard-top and electric-y blue.  But I wouldn't kick this one out of bed for eating crackers, though.  Because I know you all care.) Also: FUCK OFF AND DIE BRANDON.

SEEEEEEEERIOUSLY.  All of this is made INFINITY ANEURYSMS WORSE by the fact that LOOK AT HIS SMUG FUCKING BRANDON FACE.

SIIIIIIIGH.  So then he turns around to talk to the salesman, Simon, who appears to be Mr. Tumnus' father from fucking Narnia:

Yeah.

Anyway, dude is about as shady as they come, but because Brandon was apparently repeatedly (and rightfully!) dropped on his head as a child, he fails to notice.  Oh, and he also goes into his whole I've-been-working-on-a-chain-gang-all-summer-long garbage with, "I sure had to pick up a bunch of empty margarita glasses and haul around a lot of sweaty towels for all those zeroes."  Yeah.  Sounds like a real ordeal to have to work at the beach and stare at the ocean all day and basically walk around scheming with your 41-year-old best friend the whole time.  Have I told Brandon to FUCK OFF AND DIE in the last couple of sentences? No? Well, here you go: FUCK RIGHT OFF AND DIE A PAINFUL DEATH.  BRANDON.

Next, we have FOREVER hours of Brandon driving around L.A.

Like this.

And this.

And this (where you can see he's wearing his OCTAGONAL shades that he picked up at Claire's in the mall.)

And this.  And I tried to pinpoint where he was but I couldn't so I don't care.

So then he pulls up to a light, and you can see a Blockbuster Video in the distance.  NEVER FORGET.

He checks out some broad in the car next to him, and she appears to be intrigued because she hasn't had the displeasure of talking to Brandon for a nanosecond and figuring out he's a self-righteous, cocky, blathering waste of the air everyone breathes.

So then something happens that we all saw coming three hours ago: the car stalls and everyone starts honking.

And he tries to get it going again by stepping on the gas with his lady oxfords.  It doesn't work.

And then all he can do is this because he's worthless and panty-waisted and an utter drain on Southern California and society as a whole.

And then everyone in Los Angeles hates his diminutive guts, seeing as traffic's already bad enough and what this town doesn't need is a fucking stalled car in a lane during rush hour.  Brandon Walsh: ruining lives and commutes since 1991. 

And then Brandon goes back in time and catches a cab from the 1950s and brings it back with him to the 1990s to drop him off at the car lot.

And he thinks he's all butch in his Gloria Vanderbilt jeans and his breast buds (thanks for that AH-MAY-ZING yet stomach lining-destroying description, Rach!) poking out of his Merona for Target tee-shirt, and struts up like he's going to take care of business.  Whatever.

He heads up to Tumnus, Sr., who puts his hand up like this, because he's already engaged with some burnout lot-boy-type.

So then Brandon, accessorizing his "Early-'90s Suburban Mom Running Errands" look with his Tony Manero Necklace©, lays into the elder Tumnus, demanding his check back and basically trying to be the baddest toddler on the playground.

Tumnus The Senior ain't havin' it, basically telling Brandon that it's his problem now and that, "If you say you are experiencing some difficulties with it, then by all means, get that sucker into a good mechanic just as soon as you can.  But that car was in prime condition when it left the lot.  I know because I checked it out myself." And then he clip-clops inside and heads back to Narnia through the fucking wardrobe in the back room.

Oh, and I almost forgot: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

H.O.W., nighttime.

Inside, Jim's berating Brandon.  As he should, I might add.  Because Brandon is a ruiner of a lot of things. Namely? My happiness.  So whatever, Brandon explains that the engine of the car needs to be completely overhauled, and that he can't believe fauns make a living by tricking idiots with stupid hair swoops out of their money.  And that the car's currently at an impound lot in the San Gabriel Valley, and was taken there by a Sheriff's tow truck after they drove by the car that Brandon just left in traffic on Sunset Blvd.  THE FUCK?   He should seriously be flogged in the West Beverly Hills town square.  So it's going to take $250 to get it out of impound.  And now for I Live In L.A. Part Infinity:  my car was impounded once.  It was a few days after we had moved here and since we're just illiterate yokels chewing on wheat stalks from the backwoods of Colorado and apparently didn't read the parking sign properly (also: most parking signs in Los Angeles look like this.  I wish I was kidding.), we came out the next morning and my car had vanished.  And then you go through all of the possibilities of where it could be and I mostly thought that it was street toughs who had stolen it, but after about 17 phone calls it was determined that I had parked in an after-10pm tow-away zone and my car had been hauled to an impound in Hollywood.  So we went there and I had to wait in this prison cell-like cage thing and we forked over $300 and then I was taken to my car in a golf cart.  In conclusion: the Los Angeles Department of Transporation didn't fuck around in the '90s and they don't fuck around now.  CHRIST ON A CRACKER, WHERE WERE WE.  So then Jim loses his shit and Cindy doesn't really say anything, instead tuning Jim and Brandon out and wondering if it's too late to take Glen up on his offer.

The next whatever we're at THE PEACH PIT!  Which is under construction, thank god.

Brandon comes in wearing a GIANT girls' mint tee shirt and sweat-shorts, because he's all depressed after losing his car and has lost his will to live.  I mean, I hope.

He sits down at the counter and hey! Look who it is! Lucy Liu comes up to take his order, which is "Two eggs over-easy, rye toast." And Lucy's a real freak because she asks what kind of ice cubes Brandon wants in his water.  I guess this is supposed to tell us that she's some diligent, attentive-to-details employee, but really all it tells me is that she's fucking psychotic.

And then! Worthless Nat! How I've missed you! Only not, because Worthless Henry.  ANYway, Nat's all OF COURSE happy to see Brandon and asks him how it's going and Brandon's just looking for someone to ask him what's wrong and soothe his wounded ego because he answers Nat with, "Could be better."  And then Nat lies and tells Brandon that business has been great (uh huh) and Brandon asks how Lucy Liu is working out...

...which is her cue to lay all of Brandon's food out on the counter in a quick and robotic fashion, and apparently you're not allowed to choose your own breakfast meat at The Peach Pit because Brandon automatically gets bacon.  And hash browns, which he didn't ask for either.  Man.  The Peach Pit is such a dump.

So then Nat attempts to make Brandon feel guilty (don't bother Nat; he never will) with, "Lucy Liu's a straight-A student from Beverly Hills High.  I really lucked out finding her...on such short notice."

Brandon, however, feels no remorse about leaving Worthless Nat in the lurch, so he just smiles his self-satisfied little Brandon Smile, and Nat worthlessly tells him to "Take it easy," and walks away.

GACK.  So Brandon of course sat down next to Garg and asks him for the sports page of the paper he's reading and Garg is one of those creeps who has to make small-talk with EVERYONE, including strangers and asks Brandon, "Great place, huh?" Garg apparently doesn't get out much.  So Brandon tells him that he used to work there and Garg goes into a tedious anecdote about having been in L.A. all summer and recently discovering the place where Brandon was planning his deflowering of AHHHHHHNdrea.  And then Garg describes some "Mexican burger" from there that he likes, as if Brandon hadn't just told him that he used to work there.  Anyway, you apparently can't get a burger like that in Chicago, where Garg is from, and then Brandon asks, "Why is it that nobody in L.A. is actually from L.A.?" and...again, no comment.  Since I am one of those people.

So Garg goes on to say that he could see himself living in Los Angeles, all, "Skiing it two hours away, the desert's two hours away," and Brandon adds, "The grocery store's two hours away in rush hour traffic," and dudes.  I hate to perpetuate the "BECAUSE TRAFFIC" stereotype of Los Angeles.  But IT'S TRUE.  Like, it's FOREVER to get anywhere.  And everyone on the road is a straight-up DICK.  And then you have to struggle to find parking (see above) and fight with people for a spot and NIGHTMARE.  So then Garg says, "Yeah, the traffic is wretched," and don't force me to agree with you, Garg.  So then Brandon pulls out his woe-is-me-I-don't-have-a-car trash heap drama and is all, "Well, I don't have to worry about that [meaning traffic] anymore.  Now that I don't have a car," and ONCE AGAIN, he says it all kind of "under his breath" but not really and I just canNOT with any of this.  And then it's revealed that Garg is late for his class, which Brandon assumes is at UCLA, but Garg then tells him that he's teaching drama at West Bev and then FIE. NAH. LEEEEEEE. it comes out that Brenda is Brandon's twin and Garg doesn't mention the fact that he's trying to sexually assault both Brandon's sister and Brandon's friend.  And then Garg tells Brandon, "Say hi to Brenda," and wouldn't he be seeing Brenda first? Or does he teach multiple drama classes at West Beverly and they all meet at different times of the day or some shit? And I've asked this before but I'll ask it again: WHY DO I CARE???

Back to H.O.W.: Brenda and AHHHHHHNdrea are rehearsing their drama-class scene and AHHHHNdrea makes reference to The Moment We're All Waiting For later in the episode with, "You know, if I enter stage left, then I could cross to you for the slap." And then they talk about motivation and some other boring actor-y stuff and Brenda tells AHHHHHHNdrea, "Use emotion from your own life and transfer it into your character," and AHHHHHHNdrea's all, "But I'm not a washed up ballet dancer," and I'd like to remind her she's a washed up somethin'.  So Brenda is over it, "it" being AHHHHHHHNdrea and "over" just like we all are and tells her, "Okay, okay, just say your line, when I go to hit you, jerk your head to the side and it'll look like we connected...if the timing's right we won't even make contact."

Brandon arrives home all, "Well if it isn't the thespians," and seriously: he dresses like I used to for my 1992 rec center league basketball practices.  So then he tells Brenda about running into Garg at The Peach Pit.

Also: I'm not entirely certain what Brenda's wearing but she looks very pretty in that color.  AHHHHHNdrea's top-half is dressed for the first snowfall of the year, apparently.  ANYway, Brenda gets all Hot For Teacher again, especially after Brandon tells her that Garg eats at The Pit all the time and how he was talking about how great an actress she is.  So as Brandon heads upstairs to go cry or masturbate or perhaps both at the same time, AHHHHHNdrea tells Brenda, "Told you were his teacher's pet," and she's all bothered because how dare Brenda step on AHHHHHHHNdrea's toes by being a brown-nosing ass-kiss.  And then AHHHHHHHNdrea takes Brenda's advice and uses her pathetic emotions from her own pathetic life and says, "I'll cross to you because I'm jealous.  That's the answer.  Jealous," and then makes a note in her sad little notebook.

Back to The PP.

AHHHHHNdrea walks in and the guy behind her is looking at her like I always look at her.  And she sees Brenda sitting at a table across the room.

AHHHHHNdrea sits down with Brenda and it's obvious that they're both there to ogle Garg (which is a detestable act, by the way) if he so happens to come in , but AHHHHHHNdrea lie-tells and says, "I don't know, suddenly I had this intense craving for one of Nat's chili cheeseburgers." Because she apparently wants a mad case of the squirts later, I guess?

So then they spot Garg walk in and sit at the counter (and Brenda looks sooooooo pretty here and I would like to scalp her and wear her hair as a cape)...

...and he orders the "tamale special" from Lucy Liu.  Nat has quite the wide array of menu items, doesn't he? So whatever, Garg spots the girls but basically ignores AHHHHHHNdrea completely and asks Brenda, "What is this? The Walsh Family hangout?" and tells her that he ran into Brandon there earlier that morning.  I'm certain that all of the other Peach Pit customers appreciate the shout-conversation going on around them.

So Garg joins the gals and AHHHHHHNdrea's all butt-hurt and broken-hearted about Garg choosing to sit on the same side as Brenda instead of her.  And he asks how the scene's coming along (CAN WE JUST GET TO THE FUCKING SCENE ALREADY?) and then says that it doesn't have to be a "business lunch," and asks if they've had the cappuccino shake and NIGHTMARISHLY Brenda brings up the time she worked there (please, please don't) and that Nat named a milkshake after her called "LaVoyne's [I SAID PLEASE] Shake, Rattle & Roll." And now it's time for me to try and scoop my tympanic membrane out of my ear again, using the spork that came with the side of pinto beans I ordered from El Pollo Loco because I. JUST. CAN'T with the memory of Brenda's tenure as a satanic waitress/torture device at The Pit.  I mean, really.

Anyway, then Brenda says, "If you want a phenomenal milkshake there's this great place on Hollywood Blvd. called C.C. Brown's," which is gone now.  Actually it was gone in 1996, per  various  websites.  I'm surprised it wasn't replaced by the area's 97th Subway, but it was actually replaced the 57th disgusting souvenir shop on Hollywood Blvd. (we'll get to that in a minute).  ANYWHEREWASI, AHHHHHHNdrea brings up some nerdlinger historical fact about the ice cream parlor and then Brenda offers to take Garg on a tour of the sights that afternoon and Garg gets his rocks off at the prospect of Brenda and AHHHHHHNdrea tag-teaming him and says, "Well that'd be great.  I'd love a tour from two, authentic California girls," and Brenda's all, "Two?"  (because she wanted Garg and his Garg ween all to herself) and this whole thing has Beyond Inappropriate Conduct Between A Student And A Teacher written allllllll over it.

So this is supposed to be Garg's (way-trashy) truck.  Brenda and AHHHHHHNdrea are apparently giving him double-road-hummer at this moment, given the fact that you can't see either of their heads here.

After the beej.  WHY I don't have the fucking slightest, Brenda says, "Do you know my brother has the exact same show size as Paul Newman?" Um. WHAT.  So do probably A LOT of other people.  Like, millions.  It gets even stranger when AHHHHHHHNdrea chimes in with, "Figures he would." I really have an intense dislike for Garg, but why he doesn't kick Brenda and AHHHHHHNdrea out of the cab at this moment, while the truck is still moving, and go find another teenage girl to prey on, is beyond me.

Next up: here we have Grauman's Chinese Theatre (now called TCL Chinese Theatre) which they drive by and Brenda's all, "Oh! They have the best popcorn here, with real butter, not that imitation stuff," and then AHHHHHHNdrea chimes in with something about the architects designing it as "a shrine to Hollywood" that nobody cares about, and just go eat a Miracle Whip sandwich a take your afternoon nap, AHHHHHHNdrea, you goddamn snooze.  So anyway, this is my absolutely least favorite part of Hollywood.  Most of Hollywood Blvd. is a toilet, but this area is the 13-day-old diarrhea in that toilet.  Also: I should totally work for the Hollywood Tourism Council.  For me, its only redeeming quality is that it's right up Orange Drive from the In-N-Out on Sunset.  Because In-N-Out is my place of worship and the double-double with no onions, fries well-done and a large Coke is my own, personal Jesus.  MOVE ON, you plead? Okay.

To make up for my blithering, here is a rad shot of Brenda's reaction to All Things AHHHHHHHNdrea.

So then they're on Melrose and Brenda talks about it being a "happening" street and AHHHHHHHHNdrea is just a SACK of Extra-Drowsy Formula Benadryl because she informs the others, "Melrose only started taking off when the real estate on Rodeo Dr. got too expensive," and Garg's all, "That's interesting," because he's already figured out that it will be easier to get into AHHHHHHNdrea's ill-fitting shorts than Brenda's.

And then they're downtown and AHHHHHHHNdrea mentions that one of the buildings we're looking at here (which is very near my office building, in case you were wondering, which I know none all of you were) is in the opening credits of L.A. Law (ahh, the early-'90s) and Brenda's like, "AHHHHHNdrea, I'm sure Chris has better things to do than sit in front of a T.V. every Thursday night," and then of course Garg's all, "Actually, L.A. Law is my favorite show," and OF COURSE both Brenda and AHHHHHNdrea say at the same time, "Mine too!"  Brenda's...really acting like Kelly right now and that is about the worst possible thing I could say about her.

Next: Paramount Studios

Then: Chapman Market - which is ALSO downtown, so MEGA-AHHHHHHHNdrea-ly I will point out that they wouldn't have gone from the L.A. Law building area back to Paramount Studios (which is on Melrose, in Hollywood) and then back downtown to Chapman Market.  This is just a television show, you say? That aired 23 years ago, so I should really just get over it or seek some kind of professional, institutionalized help? Very well.

Over to the La Brea Tar Pits, which I've never been to, but which seems kind of unappealing and creepy to me but whatever.  So because Garg is obviously a Rhodes Scholar he asks, "Is this the La Brea Tar Pits?" and AHHHHHHHNdrea GOD WHAT A FUCKIN' LOSER says, "Uh, yeah, and those are some tourists who got lost during the Plasticine era," meaning these elephants or wooly mammoths? right here? I guess this is AHHHHHHHNdrea's idea of "flirting." But Garg has already depravedly zeroed-in on AHHHHHHHNdrea and wants her to think he finds her interesting so he laughs and laughs.  Brenda's only response is this:

Exactly, Bren.  Exactly.

Let me comment here that yes, people wear all sorts of wacky "cold-weather" clothes here in the summer, but this heinous half-mock, half-non-mock turtleneck that Garg's been sporting this whole time? Not only is it an assault on fashion as well as my cones and rods, it's FUCKING RIDICULOUS.  There's just no way, NO WAY, anyone would wear this at the end of goddamn August in Los Angeles.  Maybe at night at the beach.  Maybe.  But in some beater-looking truck which doesn't appear to have AC? NOOOOOOO.  Whatever, then it's time to drop the girls off at their respective homes, and he asks who lives closer, and Brenda and AHHHHHHHHNdrea seriously need to sign up for some kind of deprogramming course in regards to this guy, because they both point at each other and yell out at the same time, "She does!"  because they both want to sit on Garg's face or some shit.

 More H.O.W.

Steve, having apparently stolen his entire look from one Albert Clifford "A.C." Slater, right down to the trapezius-grazing curlicued mullet, comes out of the bathroom and says, "Oh, Brandon, Brandon, Brandon.  My mother's comin' back from Europe.  Kelly's got her rash again [I'm sure there was some '90s version of Valtrex she could've used on that, right?].  And the luau's coming up.  All signs indicate that the summer's over and I've barely touched a babe." Let's pause here and take a moment while the nausea, chills, full body aches, confusion, depression, suicidal thoughts and general malaise that enveloped us all when the thought of Steve "Wraparound Oakleys" SAUNders touching anything annexed our brains.

Brandon, of course, isn't really paying attention to Steve, which in general, is how everyone should behave towards Steve.  But because Brandon's only reason for not paying attention to his friend is all of his brought-upon-himself non-drama surrounding the car, he's still a damp dog turd stuck to the bottom of your shoe which you unknowingly traipse into your house and smudge all over your floor and then soil all your throw rugs with.  Also: there's this really skeevy exchange where Steve asks why Jim doesn't get the car out of impound for Brandon, and Brandon tells him, "Because he gets off on seeing me squirm."  You guys?...hell if I know.  That's just probably not something I would say about ANY MEMBER OF MY FAMILY.  FUCK. And then he's all, "It's all right, though, I don't need his help.  I just need a new job." I just can't wait until the end of the episode where Brandon is rewarded for being an ignorant, money-wasting, abandoning and morally vacant slut by (SPOILET ALERT) having Jim un-impound the Mustang and getting it fixed and giving it to his deadbeat son, and Nat giving Brandon his job at The Peach Pit back.  It's a real lesson for the kids, you know?

So once again, Brenda flounces into a room, this time to shut Brandon's bathroom door, which was probably not so much because she wanted to be alone but because Steve.  So Steve all calls after her, "Welcome home, Bren," even though he's the very thing she's trying to get the fuck away from.

So Brandon comes in her room and thinks he's all butch (again) in his women's pastel shirt and says, "Yo, Bren, what's with you?" Just because you're sporting your Tony Manero Necklace© doesn't mean you have to talk like him, Brandon, you poseur.

So Brenda's all pouty and sad and tells him, "I am so mortified, I can't even call Kel...the verdict is in.  He dropped me off first, not only first, but before AHHHHHHHNdrea Zuckerman," and the way she says "AHHHHHHHHNdrea Zuckerman" and her facial expression as she does so is just [kisses fingertips and then tosses away] perfetto! So Brandon actually brings the logic when he finally figures out Brenda's talking about Garg and tells her, "I hate to break this to ya, but he's your teacher...He's moving back to Chicago, he's too old for you, and it's totally unethical for you to date him," to which Brenda's only response is, "Tell that to AHHHHHHNdrea."  Gross.  Who wants to tell AHHHHHHHHNdrea anything, other than, "Go away, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHNdrea."?

AHHHHHNdrea's ramshackle Valley House.

WHERE'S MY INDUSTRIAL-SIZE BOTTLE OF KAOPECTATE??? So fuck, AHHHHHHHHNdrea is of course droning on and on with, "This place used to be nothing but orange trees until after World War II when all the G.I.s [something indecipherable because WHO CARES] started migrating west en masse.  Back then you could get a lot for practically nothing and the G.I. bill paid for the construction cost..." And it actually sounds pretty interesting, but not when it's coming out of AHHHHHHHHNdrea's trap.  So then she laughs all "flirtatiously" and says, "Oh, I'm sorry, I just tend to go off on tangents." So basically: AHHHHHHHHNdrea's the most self-aware character on the show.

I can't.  I CAN'T with this guy.  He is just so unappealing and sucky to me on a variety of levels.  Which isn't helped by this egregiously cheese-dick pose here, like he's fucking Oprah interviewing Bono or some shit.  Anyway, he's thisclose to sliding his pointer-and-middle fingers into AHHHHHHHHHNdrea's Zuckerman, and he decides that unwarranted and untruthful compliments will seal the deal: "No, no, no, no, no.  It's great.  It's great.  You're great." And then AHHHHHHNdrea gets all nervous, maybe because she senses that what's going on here is actually bordering on statutory rape, and she starts talking about her and Brenda's scene and Garg interrupts her to say, "I don't wanna talk about school right now...this is kind of a difficult situation for me.  Tomorrow's our last day of class, right? And I was kinda hoping that I could talk you into havin' a cup of coffee with me, tomorrow night," and MY GOD, Garg seriously must've been at the bookstore earlier in the episode to pick up The Updated And Unabridged Guide To Being What Boils Down To A Sexual Predator And Winding Up On Dateline And Being On Some Kind Of Neighborhood Watch List.

But again, as previously discussed, AHHHHHHNdrea is a fucking loser with no real friendships and invisible parents, so she's all excited and asks, "Just you and me?" and Garg whispers, "Just you and me." And then, in addition to my head detonating I also no longer have the will to live and am currently typing this with one hand while preparing my noose with the other.

So coffee it is! and AHHHHHNdrea exits the truck and stands on her probably-patchy-brown grass while the Gee-tar Of Inappropriate Teacher-Student Relationships plays in the background.  And this is all kind of reminiscent of that episode of My So-Called Life when Angela was going to buy a fake i.d. from Jordan and she gets out of his car and is all elated and happy and kind of twirls around in Brian's yard.  Except that this scenario isn't appropriate, charming, endearing or well written at all.  So never mind.

Next whatever, WBHHS.

KEE-rist.  David and Donna perform their mime-whatever.  I hope they're both immediately assassinated following this display.

Oh, and also: we get the same audience laughter-shot that we did when Donna and David performed their Romeo & Juliet nonsense in "Summer Storm."  Seriously: go back and look.

Cut to the hallway.  AHHHHHNdrea's pacing around all nervous and lame, wearing an actual cute dress for once in her goddamn life.  She ruins it by being AHHHHHHHHNdrea, however.  And then Brenda hurries in wearing a seriously adorable violet dress and she looks just fabulous...minus the slingbacks with the kitten heel.  But that's just me.  Anyway, AHHHHHHHNdrea doesn't catch on to Brenda's very obvious "fuck off, AHHHHHHHNdrea" cues, so AHHHHHHNdrea's starts in on Brenda about how nervous she is about the scene and Brenda's all, "Don't worry about it.  And fuck off." Only maybe not that last part.

FOR REAL, you guys.  Shannen Doherty served up the best hair on television, EVAH.  And it only gets better from here.  And then kind of so-so.  And then kind of amazing again.  Anywho, AHHHHHNdrea starts going on and on about Garg and that he's "so not what I expected," and that she had a really great time the night before, and Brenda could seriously cut a bitch with the way she looks at AHHHHHNdrea throughout this whole thing, but because AHHHHHHHHNdrea's as obnoxiously self-involved as Brandon is, she pays no heed.  And she moronically tells Brenda, "I didn't mean to invade your territory, it's just, he's so smart, you know, genuinely interested in the things that I have to say." And let me be probably the 759th person to inform AHHHHHHHHNdrea that NO ONE is interested in the things you have to say.  NO ONE.  And FUCK she just keeps prattling on and on about how Garg gets her the way no one else at West Bev does (probably because he's closer to her and Steve's age of 41 than the other kids at school) and that she hadn't realized that she had these feelings before he put his non-silky smooth moves on her and THANKGODFULLY Brenda is FINALLY able to interject with, "AHHHHNdrea, that's good and I'm really happy for you.  But we do have a scene to do, and if you don't mind I would like to run some lines, if that's okay with you?" So basically, shut your jabbering face-hole, AHHHHHHNdrea, you walking crunchy-looking grown out perm.

And then we're back inside the classroom and Brenda and AHHHHHHHNdrea are performing their scene and I've never seen The Turning Point but you can read the summary here.  Basically, two old ballet broads are all competitive with each other.  I don't know.  So I guess this is a pivotal scene that they're recreating where things come to a head.  So let me hurry this along to The Moment We've All Been Waiting For and tell you that they get to a point where Brenda, as DeeDee, tells AHHHHHHHNdrea, as Emma, "You're a user.  You have been your whole life.  Me, Michael, pretending to love him and now Emilia," who is DeeDee's daughter.  So then AHHHHHHNdrea-as-Emma says, "I'm better for her than you are."

And this is what she looks like when she says it.  So, I mean, c'mon.  Who wouldn't slap the shit out of that? So then Brenda-as-DeeDee is all, "The hell you are!" AND THEN (GET READY, ADAM P!)!

YAAAAASSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!  And my life is complete now and I don't have to continue on, writing these recaps.  Or living, for that matter.  Because all is right with the world.  Well, except for the fact that Brandon's not dead.  But whatever.

So AHHHHHHHNdrea like, whimpers out in pain after Brenda lays the hammer down on her and tears spring in her eyes and she's all sad-sacky and I guess I'm some kind of twisted sadist because it is RAD on many, many levels.

And then they're done with the scene, and Garg loses his shit once more, all clapping like a fucking goon while Brenda and AHHHHHHHHNdrea just stand there and I kind of wish Brenda had choked AHHHHHHHNdrea out with her shawl-thing, but she didn't.

Back in the hallway.  AHHHHHHNdrea hustles after Brenda, who really just wants to get away from AHHHHHHHNdrea, as all mortals and non-mortals want to get away from AHHHHHHNdrea.  And AHHHHHHHHNdrea's all, "Brenda! That is not how we rehearsed the slap." And Brenda asks, "Oh no?" And AHHHHHHHHNdrea thinks she can compete with Brenda in the Bad Bitch department (she can't) and tells her, "You know damn well it wasn't."

So AHHHHHHHHNdrea gets her Frumpy Middle-Aged Schlump Mom Scolds Her Kids In The Toy Section Of WalMart stance on and figures out that Brenda's all bent out of shape about Garg and AHHHHHHHNdrea's all, "This is perfect.  I confide in you, share my feelings.  Something I never do and you completely turn on me." And even though Garg is soooooooo not worth fighting over, Brenda is correct when she says, "Yeah, well who confided in who first?" which is true.  Because she did talk to AHHHHHHHHNdrea about wanting to date Garg and Garg looking good in faded jeans at the beginning of the episode.  Which is fucking REPULSIVE to ALL the Nth Degrees (specifically: the faded jeans part) but whatever.  So AHHHHHHHHNdrea is a desperate dud and actually believes Garg likes her so she says, "I said I was sorry, Brenda.  I had no idea that he was interested in me as anything more than a pupil with stage fright." To which Brenda replies, "Yeah, well now we know differently, don't we?"

And then AHHHHHHHNdrea continues to think that she can go toe-to-toe with Our Beloved Brenda Walsh, which is like, wholly offensive, massively delusional AND immensely hilarious all at the same time, and snots out, "Look, Brenda, you can't steal something from someone that they don't have in the first place." Ooooo, burn.  Except not at all because AHHHHHHHHHNdrea.

THANK FUCK Brenda turns around and just MURDERS AHHHHHHHNdrea with this icy look and tells the poorly-coiffed little squat, "You know, all school year, I listened to you rattling on and on about your feelings toward my brother." So AHHHHHHHNdrea informs her that it has nothing to do with Brandon (which is the first time in AHHHHHHHHNdrea's existence since meeting Brandon that something hasn't been about Brandon) and Brenda seemingly wants to throw down again and gets up in AHHHHHHHHNdrea's sappy grill and says, "You're right.  It has to do with you and me."

Ooooo! But AHHHHHHHNdrea turns up the non-sass yet again and says, "Not anymore," and then turns on her heel and struts her child-bearing hips right the fuck out of there.  To which I say, "BYE." Seriously, this is not a great loss, right? Right.

Unfortunately it appears that Brenda thinks it is.  Whatever.

Back to House Of Walsh, in the kitchen.  Brenda's drowning her not-really-sorrows in ice cream and Cindy comes in and asks about the scene.  Brenda tells her that she doesn't want to talk about it and Cindy's all, "Ohhh, that good, huh?" So Brenda tells her that they got a standing ovation, which Cindy thinks is great, but Brenda informs her mother, "I was a supreme bitch." She goes on to say that she was "was petty, I was mean, I have never been more glad to see a summer come to an end."  WHATEVER, Brenda.  AHHHHHHNdrea was a supreme troll.  SHE DOESN'T MATTER.  So then the doorbell rings and Brenda's all, "If that's Kel, I don't wanna see anyone," which I wouldn't want to see Kelly either, but Cindy asks, "Not anyone?"

Cut to Brenda opening the front door and HELLOOOOO Nurse again! HURRAH, it's Our Dylan, all Maui'ed out and wearing a sweet Hawaiian shirt.  My boyfriend has one similar to this and I LOVE it.

And of course Brenda, with her shiny, shiny hair, is as thrilled to see Dylan as we all are.

And just his mere presence and scrawn embrace is enough to leave any memories of Garg in the dust PRAISE.

Into the kitchen, where Dylan's putting the moves on Cindy while placing the lei around her neck and kissing both of her cheeks, and Jim looks on like the Old Timey Newspaper Reporter-looking pussy that he is.

Including this one because SO PRETTY.

Including this one because I enjoy torturing myself.  Also: Brandon also needs to stop shopping in the women's department at Target.  The men's department is the next aisle over, Brando.  Just keep walking.

So then Dylan tells Jim and Cindy, "When I was in Maui, I got to thinkin' about how great you guys were for me this summer, and I wanted to do somethin' to say thank you," and then Jim is a non-giant ass for once in his goddamn life and says, "It's good to have you back, Dylan."

So Dylan turns around and hurls a lei right into Stupid Brandon's Stupid Brandon Face and Brandon chokes on the flowers and dies and The End.  No More Brandon.

Except unfortunately not.  Instead Dylan just tosses the lei over Stupid Brandon's Stupid Ego-Engorged Head and Brenda's all, "Ooo, two points," and Dylan speaks the truth with, "Easy shot," because no one's missin' that combed-over, swooped-out train-wreck sitting atop Brandon's dome.  So then Idiot Brandon idiotically says, "You probably been practicin' that all summer," like, Dylan's been gone all of a couple of weeks you fucking halfwit.

So then Dylan makes the grave mistake of asking after the Mustang and where it's at, etc., and Brandon gets his Little Bitch-Ass on again and tells Dylan that he doesn't want to know, which is actually fucking gospel, and Dylan thinks that someone else bought it and Jim interjects with, "Mmm, no such luck...Who else would spend thousands of dollars on a used car and never even bother to test drive it?" and Jim is SEEEEEEEEERIOUSLY my goddamn hero right now.  What a stud.  Except not at all, because that's stagnant-puddle-from-a leaky-rest-stop-toilet disgusting.

But Jim is still Brenda Levels of Badass as he goads his shitty son with, "Maybe we can have it towed into the backyard, use it as a planter."

Later in the Parents' Walsh bedroom, Cindy's laying into Jim with her CRAZY EYES and telling him, "Don't you think Brandon feels bad enough about that car fiasco without you constantly rubbing it in?" and Jim has my vote for Father Of The EVERYTHING at the moment and tells her, "He was absolutely ass-backward irresponsible in the purchase of that car!" So then Cindy advises Jim, "I think you better ask yourself why you're being so hard on him." Because  Jim hates Brandon as much as the rest of us do? I mean, that's pretty reasonable if you ask me.  But Jim answers Cindy with, "Because he wouldn't listen to me," and Cindy's all, "I don't believe that.  And neither do you," and then huffs away.

And then Jim begins his rapid descent back to I Hate Him as the Serious Realization Music starts up in the background and he does this to indicate that he's being all ponderous or some shit.

Cut to: Garg's version of the white windowless van.

MY ENTRAILS.  So here we are, where these two are sitting uncomfortably close, presumably outside AHHHHHHHNdrea's Valley Hovel again and may I ask: WHERE ARE HER PARENTS??? Like, their "high school aged" daughter is like, fellating her revolting TEACHER right outside their fucking house and that's like, fine and dandy? I guess the whole negligent-and-lax-parental-unit-thing is farther-reaching than just Beverly Hills.

MY GOD.  I need to keep telling myself that there's just a couple of more scenes with this mongoloid and then it's fucking PEACE. OUT.  Okay.  Here we go.  So obviously Garg just ADORES the sound of his own pretentious voice (think: the sickening monologue he threw down in "Beach Blanket Brandon") and is pompously babbling on about all of his ludicrous stage mishaps, because, in case you had forgotten, Garg is OF THE THEATREH!

But AHHHHHHHHNdrea eats it up with a spoon, of course.  Which only feeds dudes' undeservedly over-inflated ideals of himself.   But he tells her she's a really great listener and she in turn says, "Well, I love your stories." And then Garg, ready for blowie No. 2. says, "Well what I love is the way you listen to them." Right.  Because any woman who's actually Garg's age (even though AHHHHHHNdrea is clearly older than Garg) wouldn't put up with this JUMBO-douche for one nano-second-of-a-millisecond.  So then Garg really lays it on thick and tells her, "You're really beautiful, AHHHHHNdrea." And then, get this: AHHHHHHHNdrea starts giggling (a really attaractive trait in a 45-year-old) and tells him, "When you smile, you get this funny little crinkle-thing around your eyes," and oh, that's rich.  TAKE A LOOK IN THE MIRROR, GRANDMA.

Garg fears that his Pervert Plan of fucking a high school junior has gone off course, but he manages to stay on his path and tells her all "seductively," "It's because I'm very old," and AHHHHHHHHNdrea says all "flirtatiously," "Oh.  And very wise." And then Garg WHISPERS (FUCK I HATE THAT), "And about to do something very stupid," and THEN.

WHAT THE SHIT.  There's goes my appetite for all of eternity, as well as multiple other eternities.

So they mack for what feels like 17 lifetimes.  And then Garg pushes himself off of AHHHHHHNdrea (FOUL) and uses reverse psychology on her, saying that he can't do this, and that she's the first "totally engaging girl" he's met in Los Angeles (HORK; enRAGEing is more like it) and that if she were only 5 years older (try 10 years younger) or he was 5 years younger (try 10 years older) then he could lay the wood to her without the fear of imprisonment looming over his head.  So then he says, "Well, you still have me for two more days.  Two more nights," and asks if he can see her again, and AHHHHHHHNdrea nods pathetically and (FUCK) THEN:

More of this criminal act, with MONDO lip-smacking (them) and vast amounts of bile and splenic nerve and bits of esophagus (me).

The Peach Pit.  Yes.  Again.

FUUUUUUUuuuuuuck.  Do I have to? I guess if I must, here's the CliffsNotes version: Brandon gets his job back at The Peach Pit.  Wow.  What an engrossing and not-at-all predictable turn of events, huh? And the lesson to take away from all of this is that you can be an irresponsible shit-sack and treat people poorly and dismissively abandon all of your obligations and things will still turn out in your favor.  How inspiring.

Back to the beach.

The Malibu Sands v. North Beach volleyball match wages on.

Henry hangs some tacky sign for the end-of-summer luau.

So Brandon's helping at the other end and I'm seriously surprised he's able to lift the sign with his rice noodle arms.

LORD.  So even though Nat just handed Brandon his old job back to him on a silver FUCKING platter, Brandon continues to be the bellyaching albatross we have all come to know and abhor and tells Worthless Henry, "You know, this summer would've been so righteous if I hadn't blown everything on a lemon." WHATEVER.  THAT WAS YOUR GODDAMN FAULT.  And then he's all, "Well, at least I got to work with you, Henry," and then Henry is Non-Worthless for once in his life and advises, "Work for me." And then Brandon gets all mushy with, "I'm gonna miss ya, man." And then Henry tells him, "Look, don't get maudlin on me, don't want your mascara to start runnin'," thereby going out on a high note.  See you next summer, Suddenly Not-So-Worthless Henry!

Oh, but first Kelly comes up and tells Brandon, "There's someone here to see you in the parking lot," meaning, "Your dad is here to give you the completely repaired and INCREDIBLE car you totally don't deserve."

So the contemptible little dingle goes up to the parking lot and looks around...

...and of course it's gotta be all "suspenseful" and whatnot, with these rando cars in the way, but eventually, they part and we see...

SMUG JIM AND THE FUCKING MUSTANG.  And SHUT UP he tosses the keys into the air and catches them, like he's in the midst of some fucking Christmastime Lexus T.V. commercial or some shit and GO FUCK YOURSELF SMUG JIM.  You're now back on restriction and I hate you.

So Brandon pops 7 Woodrows in a row (which who wouldn't), mostly because he realizes he emotionally manipulated his father into paying to get his car out of impound and have it completely fixed for him.  So Brandon's all, "What's my car doin' here?" and Jim's responds, "You mean your newly rebuilt, classic 289 V-8?" a LORD I hate Jim.  HATEuh.

Jim, with his fucking Jay Sherman hair, continues to dig himself deeper with me by telling Brandon, "You worked hard all summer.  Your mother and I thought you deserved something to show for it." And there goes my brain hemmorhage acting up again.  Anyway, Brandon actually apologizes for acting like a complete stooge about buying the car, and then Jim's all, "Truth is, after you totaled Mondale," and ALMOST KILLED A MAN, "part of me was afraid to let you drive again."  Erm, obviously not, seeing as Brandon was driving IN THE VERY NEXT EPISODE.  So Brandon reiterates that he doesn't drink anymore and Jim's all, "I know.  But it took me a long time to be sure." FYI, Jimbo: it's been like, 7 or 8 months.  Which in my book, doesn't qualify as a "long time."  And then my stress-related eye floaters triple in number and rain down on my vision and one of my cats is currently typing this as I dictate it to them, because Jim says, "Enjoy the car, Brandon.  You've earned it."

And then two-thirds of the Blonde Brigade fools show up and Steve's jokes, "Too bad you'll be driving around in such a bogus set of wheels, buddy," and Kelly says, "Yeah, a car like this and you might just have to take me out." Um, his tongue's already been in your mouth, hussy.  Shut up.  And then Brandon asks, "Hey, why don't we take a drive up the coast before the luau starts, huh?" and is Brandon on his lunch? A break? What? Because I can't just "take a drive up the coast" whenever the mood strikes me at my job.  Whatever, these three spoiled assholes hop in the car and drive away from any responsibility or accountability of any kind, and I really hope they find a nice, rocky cliff to careen off of into the Pacific Ocean.

Valley Hovel Of Zuckerman.  Garg rings the bell.

AHHHHHNdrea's all primping in the mirror that's hanging on the outdated interior walls of her shanty (which looks like the inside of the goddamn Regal Beagle),  probably wishing she had Ogilvie'd herself earlier in the day for her Big Date with Garg, seeing as her lifeless, sad hair could use a little at-home-perm boost.  And she's obviously borrowed Brenda's jacket from "Stand (Up) And Deliver." 

AHHHHHHNdrea unfortunately answers the door and just...what a fucking tool this guy is.  And he's wearing another one of his trusty mock(ish) turtlenecks and a blazer stolen from fucking Julia Sugarbaker's closet and he struts in all Stud Studley and AHHHHHHHHNdrea's all, "I thought you forgot me." You should've been so lucky, AHHHHHHHHNdrea.

So they sit down on the shitty-looking couch and AHHHHHHHHNdrea gives us a little upskirt.  And she lets Garg know that they're all alone, given the fact that her non-existent family is out for the evening.  I really wish her non-existent father would bust in at this moment with a non-existent shotgun to wave in Garg's ugly face.  So then Garg informs her that he's staying in L.A. after receiving an offer from The Winston School For Girls, which apparently didn't conduct much of a background check on Garg to see what a goddamn chomo he is.

Anyway, AHHHHHHHNdrea and her crows feet and the bags under her eyes are all dorkily excited that Garg's not going back to Chicago, and asks him when he's going to go back and get all of his stuff.

And then, WHAT A CHARMER, Garg's all, "My girlfriend's bringin' it out with her." Seriously.  He's a prize.

So AHHHHHHHNdrea's all stung and Garg makes a bunch of lame excuses like, "I wanted to mention it" and "It's my job to make you feel safe so that you can learn and grow.  I wanted to gain your trust by painting a picture of who you wanted me to be.  If it meant leaving out pieces of my personal life well, I'm sorry." Like, AHHHHHHHHNdrea sucks EVERYTHING x A LOT, but this dude's a real piece of work.  And by "a real piece of work," I of course mean, "a real piece of shit." So she should just really knee him in his probably-tiny penis and then spit in his Stupid Ugly Garg face, but instead says, "I thought what we had was personal." And then he starts to go into his, "If you were just five years older..." bit, but AHHHHHHHHNdrea borrows some of Brenda's bad-assery for a few seconds and interjects with, "If I were just five years older you would still be cheating on your girlfriend." GO AHHHHHHNDREA.

And then I really can't take any more of this pedophile making asinine justifications for his sleezy, spooky behavior, so let's just cut to AHHHHHHHHNdrea kicking him out of her house and us NEVER having to lay eyes on the monstrosity that is Garg ever, ever again.

BHBC, luau.  The same horrifying song plays for INFINITY and FOREVER: "Are we going to a hooky la ay, a hooky, hooky, hooky, hooky, hooky la ay? Everybody, loves a hooky la ay." If you're watching along at home, be prepared to feel the urge to fling yourself out the nearest window, whether you're on the 1st story or (better yet) the 101st story. 

Over to Brandon coming up on the Tow-Head Trifecta, asking, "What is this? The gathering place of the truly unsociable, huh?" And then he tells them, "Hey, c'mon, you guys.  If I can make a fool out of myself out there, so can you," meaning the dance floor, where a bunch of horrifying white people are dancing to the annoying Hawaiian music.

And then this Rando Child (who's actually BH, 90210 executive producer Charles Rosin's daughter, Lindsey, who appeared in a couple of later episodes as well; you can read an actually-interesting insider-y interview with him here) comes up and grabs Brandon's hand (poor thing) and says, "C'mon, Brandon. Let's go do the hooky lau." I guarantee you that this little girl, who's all of what? 5 years-old? Will be rug-rat running away from Brandon as soon as he opens his trap and starts speaking words, because even with the underdeveloped brain of kid, she will be able to determine that Brandon is a spoiled, no-account prick within mere seconds of being subjected to anything he has to say.

So then we cut over to this, and there's a bunch of tragic dancing, which includes David trying to home-slice up the "Hooky Lau" and Brandon being a fucking dork.  And it's a real nightmare so let's save ourselves some forceful eye rolls and aggressive gagging and head on over to...

Ahhhhh.  MUCH better.

Dylan looks...orange.  But still handsome.  And his eyebrow scar looks like it shoots off into one of his forehead wrinkles.  WHATEVER.   Anyhow, Brenda asks, "So how does this compare to a true, authentic Hawaiian luau?" And Dylan Cool Guys, "Like I went to any when I was over there."

And then STUNNING Brenda, who is yes, wearing a turtleneck I DON'T CARE SHE LOOKS GORGEOUS and a pretty flower in her pretty hair asks, "What did you do most nights?" And Our Dylan knows just what to say with, "Hung out at my mom's freaky tree house and dreamed of you." And then Brenda goes into her tired This Thing We Have Is So Confusing rhetoric and Dylan tells her that it doesn't have to be and asks her if she wants to be a "free agent," and then she makes the grotesque confession that she went after Garg while Dylan was in Hawaii.

Dylan considers this revelation and don't worry, Dylan.  Garg had nothing X ALL THE NOTHINGS on you.  But Dylan's all, "And?" and Brenda tells him, "And, I'm glad you're back."

LOOK at these two.  SUCH Hot Sluts.  Even with Dylan wearing his goddamn Screech Pants.

So then this Debbie Downer shows up and Dylan sees her and asks Brenda, "Isn't that ANNE-drea Zuckerman?" Yes. ANNE-drea.  That's what he said.  Moving on.

So Brenda approaches her, probably to ask for her jacket back, and hopefully to finish the beatdown she started on her earlier.  So ANNNNNNNNEdrea says that she tried reaching Brenda at home but Cindy advised her that Brenda and Brandon and all of the rest of the group who aren't really AHHHHHHHNdrea's friends were down at the beach.

So Brenda can tell that AHHHHHHHNdrea's been crying and asks why, and then starts to talk about the slap.  YES.  Let's PLEASE keep talking about it:

IT WILL NEVER GET OLD.

And: PERFECTION.  Anyway, AHHHHHHHNdrea fills Brenda in on the fact that Garg is a duplicitous cad who likes to try to take advantage of the underage while keeping his Midwest girlfriend a secret, and Brenda gets all pissed on AHHHHHHNdrea's behalf and then it's decided that they will never let another unattractive gargoyle come between them again.  And then:

HUGS.  And GIRL POWAH.  And BFFs 4 LIFE.  And YA YA.  And all that jazz.

And then AHHHHHHHNdrea verges on endearing and tells Brenda, "I just really need to be with people tonight." And Brenda is a good friend, only not, because she advises AHHHHHHHNdrea, "Well then you came-uh to the right-uh place, no?" in something similar to her excruciating New Jerseyian accent from "Fame Is Where You Find It," only Italian-y.  CHRIST.  But she, with her great hair, adorable outfit and general loyalty, makes everything more likable.  LOVE HER.

And then there is fortunately ZERO more dialogue.  But distressingly, there is 57 more hours of hula dancing to the "Hooky Lau."

No, seriously.

SEEEEEEEEERIOUSLY.  KILL ME NOW.

But not really because LOOK AT THEM.

Also: as with ALL things that involve Brandon, this is just The Worst.

Well.  Maybe not the worst.

And then we pan up from all of the dancing embarrassments and if I joined a beach club and witnessed something remotely even close to this terrifying display, I would immediately revoke my own membership and then go drown myself in the nearest body of water.

I mean, even the Man in the Moon looks troubled by all of this ghastliness.  I feel you, Man in the Moon.  I feel you.

Check me back here next time for "Camping Trip," an episode akin to "Home Again," in that it feels like a filler episode that we all really could've (and should've) done without.  AND, Brandon almost dies, but doesn't, so what's the point? Why tease me like that, show? WHY? Also, Dylan will be the Resident Sad-Sack yet again and I in turn will hate him and hope that a rabid raccoon eats his trachea as he lays "drunk" in the woods off of two airline-sized bottles of Zima.  EMILY VALENTINE? IS THAT YOUR UNWASHED-LOOKING, TWO-TONED HELLFIRE HAIR ON THE HORIZON? IS IT??? We're almost there, dudes.  Stay strong!

All images courtesy of the author's Mad Microsoft Paint Skillzzz, Google, the author's vast repository, bh90210.fanfusion.org