Season 2; Episode 13 - Halloween: I'M ALIVE. And So Is Scott. But Not For Long. Also, Reminder: Please Don't Rape, Or Attempt To Rape, Anyone. Because That Makes You A Giant Piece Of Shit On Multiple Levels.

In which let's ignore the fact that I haven't been very attentive to the blog over the last infinity (real time: 3 months) and instead take a peek at the DVD menu for this disc:

I mean, look at it.

Reeeeally look at it.

Jesus.  Also: have I distracted you from my negligence yet? No? All I've done is provide you with an ample supply of night terrors for the remainder of your lives? Oh.  Well, then.  Carry on and...you're welcome? I guess?

                                                                                     

So we open with umpteen shots of jack-o'-lanterns lit from within by flickering candles.  Seriously, this goes on for at least 3 days.  A woman's screams can also be heard on the soundtrack, totally not inappropriate or disturbing and really just in keeping with the screams Kelly will be letting out later in the episode as she's being assaulted.  It's called "a theme," people.  Oh, and of course no opening montage would be complete without The Sweet Ghee-tar Lick.

We eventually fade up on these sad mini pumpkins with shoddily, Sharpie-drawn faces on them.

Unsurprisingly, it is AHHHHHHHHHHNdrea drawing the uninspired faces on the pumpkins, which are going to be party favors at The Valley Youth Center party AHHHHHHHHHHHHNdrea's attending later that evening.  How fucking depressing: a tiny gourd with a shitty, Sharpie-drawn face on it + having to hang out with The Zuck all night? Happy Halloween, kids.

Brandon mocks AHHHHHHHHHHHNdrea's evening plans with a sarcastic, "Ohhhh, how sweet." AHHHHHHHHNdrea reminds him that he likes kids, too, which he affirms, and then AHHHHHHHHHHNdrea adopts a high-pitched, sacchariny voice that gives us the tiniest glimpse of a sense of humor and mocks, "Ohhhhh, how sweet."

Brandon serves up this murderous glare, which is reminiscent of the time he seriously considered shaving Dylan's body of its flesh and boiling it up for a midday snack:

YIKES.

But seriously.

He continues to concern everyone by stabbing the pumpkin with the knife he's been wielding and twisting it around.  AHHHHHHHHHHHNdrea's face here speaks for us all.

Cut to the hallway, where horrid music selected by DJ Jazzy Dave plays over the PA.  You can't tell from here but all of these people's ears are bleeding out at this very moment.

Poor (Seriously, We're An Episode Away From Him Being Actually Dead) Scott Scanlon.  Why he constantly seeks out David's friendship, approval and hideous clothing choices is beyond my comprehension.

Scott asks David what he's up to and David makes the world burst into concurrent gales of laughter mixed with tears with his response of, "They're payin' me to make dance tapes for the Halloween party goin' on at the old Brownstone Mansion." Who would pay David to do anything? Besides perhaps paying him to smother himself to death in all of his garish poly-blend lady-shirts? Apparently, it's some sadomasochists from West Beverly and Beverly.  Whatever, Scott tells David that he's going to "the corner," which is where some annual egg fight goes down.  David informs Scott that there's not going to be an egg fight, and that the place will be "crawling with cops." Scott's all, "Great.  I love danger." Welp, you're an episode away from getting a gaping abdomen wound full of "danger," Scottie.  Godspeed with that.

Hallway.  Emily and her bag I would do a lot of filthy things to get my hands on track Brandon down.  Brandon talks about his disdain of Halloween and how he won't be attending the shindig at the Brownstone Mansion because, "I hate parties.  You go there to socialize, end up standin' around in a bunch of smoke and noise, screaming at people that you 'like.' And then you wanna leave but you can't, 'cause you can't find the people you're supposed to drive home.  And I don't drink, and I dance like a white guy." Oh. you mean like this?:

Pardon me, but that's wholly offensive to white guys everywhere.

But because he just wants Emily to tickle his ballsack, he says, "But if you wanna go...?" Emily declines, because the U4EA hasn't fried her brain to the point of thinking Brandon's a real catch just yet, and Brandon proceeds to poke her in the stomach and say, "trick or treat," which would've been followed by a sock to his smug nose if I were Emily, but instead she just smiles goonishly, says, "Trick or treat," and watches him walk away.

A room somewhere.  Donna and Brenda are carving pumpkins.  Are all of these for the Valley Youth Center? Or for some other low-rent kids in some low-rent Los Angeles suburb somewhere? Because it doesn't make any sense otherwise.  They talk about going to some "Hollywood Costume" store and renting something for the party I'm already sick of hearing about.  Brenda feels like she's compromising her Minnesota values by renting something "Joan Collins or somebody else already sweated in." She fills Donna in on Brandon's plans for the evening, as if anyone anywhere at all cares in the slightest: he's going to dress up as Dracula and scare the trick-or-treaters that show up at H.O.W.  Because that's not predatory behavior at all.  And let me just tell you that dude could scare the bejesus out of me by simply throwing one of his Patented Abrasive & Belligerent Brandon Faces in my direction:

Mommy.

Kelly walks in to tell Donna that the guys they were going to double with that night have bailed for some fete in Malibu, and because the foursome was planning on going as the Ricardos and the Mertzes, the girls now have to return their Lucy and Ethel costumes, for fear of looking like "fools." Umm, screw the guys and go as Lucy and Ethel; that's a perfect friends' costume choice.  But since Kelly's under the misapprehension that She Is Only Whole When She's Got Herself A Mans, that concept is completely lost on her.  But don't worry: she'll get hers later.  Oh, she'll get hers.

Dylan saunters in wearing a nice shirt, which is ruined by the knife in his mouth and the French accent he speaks with, which smacks of Brandon in the worst, worst way: "Ahhh, mademoiselle Brenda, voulez-vous carvez a pumpkin, avec moi?" Kelly advises, "I may barf," while I proceed to actually barf.

Steve's mullet, Steve's shirt from the Jackie Harris Collection and Steve walk in, asking what time Hollywood Costume closes.  I'm uncertain as to why Steve needs a costume at all, when he's clearly already dressed up as a total fucking clown.

Exterior, Palace Costume Co...sooooo, not Hollywood Costume.  Whatever.  "Hooray for Hollywood" plays in the background.

This creepy, bloated Uncle Fester-ish...statue? mask? Be prepared to see it several times this episode.

First and foremost: BRENDA'S PLAID BLAZER.  Secondly, this employee comes up and talks to Kelly and Donna about their reserved Lucy/Ethel costumes, and it's all very boring and irrelevant.  This guy is supposed to serve as some sort of wacky comic relief, but he mostly comes across as a complete irritant.

Over to Steve and Dylan, and Steve pulls a Zoro costume from the rack.  As he proclaims, "Here it is!" this whoosh sound effect plays in the background, like that of when Zoro would make his Z in the air or whatever.  This kind of migraine-inducing additive continues throughout this entire sequence, and it's just about enough to make you want to grab the gun out of Scott's mitts and blow your brains out in the next episode.  Brenda walks up all, "You know, I always thought that behind that mask and that cape, Zoro was just a pube-headed, self-entitled piece of excrement from Beverly Hills." Or something like that.  And once again, Brenda begs Dylan to participate in all of the costume foolery going on around him, he declines and then the guy wearing a ewe on his head calls Dylan a squeef.  Okay.

Back over to these two.  Donna pulls a Munchkin costume and the sound effect at this moment is (I guess?) Munchkins laughing.  I'm not even going to dignify it with a response, other that STOP IT STOP IT NOW.

Kelly pulls a sparkly, showgirl-looking something from the rack and insists that Donna wear it.  Donna's all, "I...just don't have what it takes to pull this off.  And you do.  See, the guys would just crack up if I wore this." Because, altogether now: A Man's Opinion Is All That Matters.  Kelly decides she's going to try it on so that Brenda can slut-shame her in a few minutes.  What fun.

Brenda scurries over to Dylan and holds up a Robin Hood costume to his front side, as the sound of an arrow hitting a target is heard in the background.  Also heard is the sound of my left wrist flesh being cut open with the pair of plier-style nail clippers I'm taking to it because I can't fucking handle this imbecilic mess of a plot device any longer.

Dylan walks away as Kelly comes twirling up in the sequined number she wanted Donna to try on.  I, for one, think she looks incredible, but maybe it's a bit mature for a 16-year-old? I have no (human) daughters but feel that if I did, I would dress them in burlap potato sacks once they reached the age of 13...because that's what you do, right? Becki, I'll throw this query to you, since I know you have daughters and I'm pretty certain the correct answer is to dress girls like they fell out of the Ladies Of The FLDS Church 2015 Calendar, no? As a sidebar, while I have no intention of ever having kids, I think it's pretty clear that I would make an excellent mother.  Blah blah Brenda pretty much tells Kelly that she looks like a fancy, glittering whore, so Kelly decides she'll find something else blah.

Donna comes up with her costume that she's going to keep secret until the party, and no one cares.

Back over here, because shopping for Halloween costumes makes for riveting T.V.  Dylan pulls a suit from the rack all, "This is righteous, check this thing out...Bonnie and Clyde, man." I then start plucking away at the skin on my right wrist with the clippers as machine gunfire is heard on the soundtrack.  WILL IT EVER END? Steve, who should probably use the cord on his hat to hang himself, seeing as he closely resembles a fucking idiot, looks on.

Dylan walks under the rack to the next aisle where the girls are, throws his arm around Brenda and announces with a ludicrous twang in his voice, "Hi, I'm Clyde Barrow, this is Ms. Bonnie Parker.  And together, we rob banks." Thank CHRIST he makes up for all of his asinine accent antics in the following scene.

Finally, we're done with the brainless costume store bit, and we fade to this shot of the moon and a wolf? howling? I guess it's just one of the many wolves that roam the streets of West Los Angeles.

Shot of trick-or-treaters.

H.O.W.

Shot of Cindy's hand, straightening out the boxes of raisins she's planning on giving out.  Because Cindy is a ruiner of life.

Brandon comes up, stands way too close to his mother and asks, "Don't you think the kids here are gonna be a little disappointed with raisins?"

Jim, hanging some kind of Halloween-themed garland and, like Steve, wearing a lady's blouse, pipes in with, "They'll get plenty of candy bars at everyone else's house."

Cindy tells Brandon that she wants to provide the degenerative children of Beverly Hills "something a little wholesome," and says that they can get the "junk," like razor blades, vials of coke and miniature Popov vodka bottles elsewhere, i.e. the Taylor house.  Also, let me point out that Cindy is dressed like a festive Paula Poundstone (and unfortunately therefore Glen) here.  Jim spouts out the old adage about raisins being nature's candy and his son responds with, "I can't believe you just said that, you don't even like raisins." I guess it was Jason Priestley's delivery of the line or the fact that I've lost a lot of blood from the cavernous gashes in my wrists from earlier, but that was pretty funny.

The doorbell rings and Cindy's all, "First customer!" and Brandon adopts a Transylvanian accent that erases any good will I was just feeling towards him: "Yes, the first victim to Dracula's castle."  He tosses on a cape (which helps nothing) and flings open the door to find...

...himself staring into Dylan's pin-striped crotch.  Dylan's holding a sub-machine gun that I hope he uses on Brandon.

Brandon continues Cindy's tradition of ruining lives by asking, "Hey, Bugsy.  What's the rumpus?" Dylan responds with yet another fucking ear-bleed inducing accent, saying, "This is a stick-up, gimme all your candy."

Brandon picks up the raisins and shows them to his friend, who says, "Eww, raisins?" Exactly.  Look, I like raisins.  But Halloween is a time for teeth-and-stomach-lining destroying sugary sweet candy deliciousness, period.

These squares do not agree.

Brandon calls upstairs, "Hey! Bonnie! Clyde's here!" Dylan moves past Brandon with a, "Drift, Small Guy," and Dylan can use any goddamn accent he wants for the rest of eternity, because that line made my life and several of my other lives.

And now, the moment pathetic losers have been waiting for since starting a blog about Beverly Hills, 90210 2½ years ago:

YAAAAAAAAAAAS.  I want to wear all of this, right now and every day of the week forever and ever and ever.

Stunning.

I CAN'T TAKE IT.

Seriously, you guys,  It doesn't get any better than this.  Brenda's on-point fashion game will more than make up for her blaming Kelly for being almost-raped later in the episode.  I mean, pretty, pretty clothes and fierce hair < victim-blaming, amirite?

AT LONG LAST over to the party at the Brownstone Mansion, the exterior of which will be used a few more times over the course of the series.  I don't care enough to list them all.

Inside, David's shit-music plays in the background as extras in costumes, including Edward Scissorhands (the movie having come out the previous December WE'RE ALL FUCKING ANCIENT), meander around.

Dylan and Brenda enter and every other party-goer leaves because they know they will never come close to the perfection that is these two.

Steve, with a terrifying, pencil-thin mustache and his short-and-curly-speckled cleave on full display, approaches and asks after Kelly.  Brenda tells him that she had to make some last-minute alterations to her Come And Rape Me costume.  Steve chortles like the buffoon we know and despise and walks away.

Brenda and Dylan head further into the party and from behind them they hear Donna call out, "Guys!" And then we see Donna in her mermaid getup and are not at all annoyed or completely goddamn fed-up with the non-logistics behind this sight gag, seeing as how the fuck did Donna get to the party, how the fuck did Donna get up front porch steps into the party, how the fuck did Donna THIS IS SO FUCKING STUPID.  Like, stupid to the point that it doesn't even deserve my rage.  So.  Moving on.

As Dylan and Brenda escort Donna to go find a hopefully less-offensively dimwitted story line, a bunch of extras start hooting and hollering and whistling like pig-dogs.  These three turn around to see what all the commotion is about...

...which is Kelly's arrival at the party.  Which is giving me major Nomi Malone on the Showgirls movie poster vibes, so I can't hate.  She looks great and not at all like she should be brutally attacked later in the episode (hint: no woman, no matter what she's wearing, ever looks like they should be brutally attacked later in the evening).  But again, minus the undeserved attempted rape, perhaps this is a bit too "adult" for a 16 year-old? I guess Jackie was probably too busy going down on Mel's mildewy dong to notice that her daughter left the house looking like a high-class madam.

Speaking of dongs, Steve comes up, sees Kelly, says, "Oh, my god!" and pops a full-mast, mullet-cloaked Woodrow.  Brenda believes now would be a good time to place the onus of an attempted rape on Kelly...

...so she leads her back outside, shames her and asks, "Do you want guys staring at you like that all night long?" referring to the presumably small-dicked Phantom of the Opera sleaze walking in behind them.  Kelly says that she wants to make an impression and meet dudes and be force-fed party-size quesadillas later, so Brenda should step off.  Brenda, Rapist's Apologist, tells her, "I'm warning you, you're looking for trouble." Kelly tells her that she knows how to take care of herself and heads back inside.

Brenda remains on the porch looking fabulous and concerned but mostly looking forward to giving Kelly the old told you so later in the evening.

Stupid "scary" music plays as we get a shot of kids trick-or-treating on some street.

The doorbell rings at H.O.W. and Cindy and Brandon, wearing his Dracula garb, answer the door.  What follows is pointless and boring, wherein Cindy's old and oblivious and knows nothing of the (OG) Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.  Oh, Old People.

Brownstone Mansion.

Inside: bad music, cackling and a shot of a skeleton.

As promised, the bloated face from Hollywood Costume.  Whatever.

Shot of Donna being uncomfortable in her mermaid gear.  KILL ME NOW.

Elsewhere, Kelly's being hit on by these two fucking rods, who she apparently finds charming enough to flirt, "You better be good or I'll cast a spell on both of you."

Unfortunately for Kelly, those are not the last fucking rods she'll have to contend with, the next being Steve, who calls her costume a "gownless evening strap" (which was actually pretty funny) and tells her that "it just leaves nothing up to the imagination." Kelly becomes my Momentary Most Favorite Character Ever by advising, "Steve, with you and me it's all imagination," and walking away.  Boss.

Girlfriend can't catch a break in the Having To Deal With Mutants Department and sadly runs into David, costumed as...Vanilla Ice? Jim Carrey as The Riddler in Batman Forever? I don't know.  Either way, he tells Kelly she looks great and asks her to dance, which she denies because of his clothes and because David.

After being rejected by Kelly, David turns his wrath on this poor, unassuming Cleopatra.  He grossly talks himself up, bragging that the music playing is something he picked out, which he inanely describes as "a cottage industry." Rather than stabbing her own eyes out with her headpiece or perhaps one of the beads attached to her wig, Cleopatra treats David, appropriately, like a smudge of soft dog stool on the bottom of her shoe and promptly shuts him down, but not before being the second female in a row to decline his dance offer.  I mean, can you blame her?

...

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...

...

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No.  No you cannot.

You especially cannot blame her when she walks away and David calls after her, "So I guess a night of hot monkey love is outta the question?" Pardon me while I hork and then douse myself in my own vomit and then light myself on fire.

Fuck off.

Back out to the porch, where Steve's being a Sad Sack because Kelly doesn't want to ride his thread-like mustache.  David comes out to join Steve in his Sad Sackiness because everyone inside the party loathes him.  With reason.  Steve's all, "I don't know about this party.  I think I might be getting too old for Halloween." Well, you are 41.   But hey! Us middle-aged folks can still enjoy Halloween, too! They talk about the old egg fights and how much fun they were but, as Steve says, "That was all in junior high school." Is that was they called it back when Steve was a pre-teen, selling papes for a nickel on the corner, followed by a rousing game of stick ball in the street?

More shots of kids trick-or-treating, in case we had forgotten that this episode is titled "Halloween."

Pan down to these eggs...

...and then to Scott, sitting amongst some bushes and whittling a stick.  With some sort of pocketknife/weapon, but seriously - the more concerning aspect of this shot is that he's whittling a stick.  I didn't realize Scott went to Oklahoma over the previous summer and became fucking Huck Finn.  Jesus.

David appears, because he has nothing better to do and the people at the party (rightfully) thought him to be a hobgoblin, so he's come to throw his oldest and most loyal friend, the one who he swiftly ditched a few mere months before, and the one whose tragic death he'll mourn for all of about 20 minutes in the next episode, a crumb of his attention.  But because Scott is a loser with no self-respect or dignity of any kind, he's all pumped at David's presence and runs off at the mouth about all the people yet to show up to the egg fight.  David informs Scott that all of the people he's expecting to show up are actually at the Brownstone party David was just expeditiously shunned from.

Scott dorks out some more by ducking in the bushes and referencing all of the "ammo" he's got with him, because the writers really want to drive home that Scott is obsessed with guns and gun-related slang and because of that, his story arc will not end well.  The two of them then reminisce about a time when David maybe wasn't such a social-climbing shithead, desperate to make a name for himself in the stupid West Beverly stratosphere.

Moronic organ music plays us over to a shot of a wall in the H.O.W.  Those decorations are straight up feces.

The doorbell rings and Brandon once again crouches like a ninny, and you can add this bit to the category I CAN'T because for fuck's sake.

The little girl wearing the crown in the front there, in no mood for Brandon's overwhelming Brandon-ness? Is my spirit animal.

That non-funniness ends and we see these two kids dressed as ghosts in white sheets, so you can be certain that more non-funniness is just around the bend.

Yep.

You got it.

Of course we all know that the two ghosts are Emily's twin (OF COURSE) niece and nephew.  Or perhaps just some rando kids she plucked off the street to sell into white slavery in order to get money to feed her burgeoning U4EA habit.  Whatever, she appears behind them on the porch and Brandon gets all embarrassed...

...but not so embarrassed that he won't put the fake teeth back in...

...do this...

...and then proceed to growl and grab the children? and hug them to him? Is this behavior at all worrying to anyone else? No? Just me?

These fucking dweebs come up to admire the pervert they've raised and then Cindy takes the kids to use the bathroom.  I don't know.

The writers then whip out some twin-humor that really shouldn't be funny to anyone, especially to twins but mostly to humans.

Another shot of the moon and more howling from the Westside wolf packs.

Back inside the party, Kelly's being hit on by A.L.F.! ZOMG! But since we've already established that she's a dumb bitch, it should come as no surprise that she turns him down.  You should be so lucky, hussy.

Steve comes up again because Kelly's breasts, and asks if she needs a drink refill, and by "drink refill" I'm venturing to guess he means "my penis inside of you." Of course NO ONE needs that from Steve so she (figuratively, thank god) blows him off.

Robin Hood? I guess? approaches and here's an unsettling bit of trivia for you: dude will play Kelly's actual rapist at the end of Season 9.  The one that she ends up shooting and killing.  Yeah.  Here, she utterly and humiliatingly rejects him, and not to play "rapist's advocate" or anything but perhaps had she been nicer to him here, he wouldn't have come back 7 years later and sought revenge in the form of aggravated sexual assault.

Having witnessed Kelly's complete verbal annihilation of  the Prince of Thieves, GORGEOUS Brenda swoops in, complimenting Kelly on her handling of the situation and telling her, "I guess you do know what you're doing." Kelly thanks her for the credit and then they cruise a bunch of dudes, including one we don't get to see but who is apparently dressed as a feminine hygiene product, and if I didn't already know he was dressed as Zoro, I would totally think a walking, talking Tampax tampon was none other than Steve .

Then they spot Kelly's soon-to-be scumbag assailant, The Jimmy, who Brenda describes as, "the tall, handsome stranger," and who I describe as, "the friendless, slightly damp-looking creep in the corner with the sinister, lifeless gaze of a serial killer." Brenda asks if Kelly knows who this future violent criminal is and Kelly asininely replies, "No.  But I will.  You just watch.  I will." Yes, Kelly, sadly you will, but in a really, really bad way.

Back inside H.O.W., this tedious story line is still going down.

To sum up: for whatever U4EA-laced reason, Emily invites this choad along to continue trick-or-treating with her and the kids.  Emily makes really poor decisions, and not just in the psychoactive drug department.

Back to the party.  The mask that won't goddamn die is witnessing the first interaction between Kelly and The Jimmy.  Which goes a little (skin-crawlingly) something like this: 

Kelly - "Howdy, Partner." 

The Jimmy - "Well, hey there, witchy woman."

Kelly - "Your horse outside?"

The Jimmy - "Hitched him right up next to your broomstick."

Kelly - "Thirsty after the dusty trail? Or does the horse drink first?"

The Jimmy - "S'pose you and I have a cup of your witches' brew first, and uh, then we'll water my horse."

STOP IT STOP IT NOW WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS EVEN.  Their "flirtation" or whatever the fuck you want to call it? Is enough to make me want to rape something.  Like the muzzle of a rifle with my mouth.  Christ almighty.

But! It gets brain-hemorrhagingly worse because they WON'T STOP TALKING.  To wit:

The Jimmy - "Where do ya go to school?"

Kelly - "West Beverly.  Where do you go?"

The Jimmy - "USC."

Kelly - "Really? I bet at SC you're quite the cowboy."

The Jimmy - "I'll bet at West Beverly you're quite the little witch."

Kelly - "You  better watch it, cowboy.  Or I'll turn you back into an obnoxious frat boy."

The Jimmy - "Hee-hoo! Feisty, I like that!"

Kelly - "What, in a filly?"

The Jimmy - "Say, how 'bout I just throw you over my saddle and we ride off into the sunset together?"

Kelly - "I don't ride on a first date."

The Jimmy - "Well, now, is this a date?"

Kelly - "Could be."

The Jimmy - "How soon can we have the second date?"

Kellly - "That depends on how you play your cards."

The Jimmy - "I always play my cards right, darlin'.  I don't like to lose."

Kelly - "Wahoo! Feisty.  I like that."

So.  While I'm not saying anyone deserves to be raped at the end of this thing, I will say that everyone involved in this scene - the writers, actors, crew, craft services, etc. - should end their life in some really horrific, awful way.  I mean, even I'm in the process of composing my suicide note and narrowing down which bridges to fling myself off of, and I'm just writing about the damn show 24 years after the fact.

To the street and more trick-or-treating.  Emily, who's kind of wearing the crap out of her entire outfit, asks Brandon if all of the the trick-or-treaters are bused in to BH, which Brandon confirms because, "Halloween's a big deal in Beverly Hills.  People here put on quite a show.  Kids figure they'll get better candy.  It's a safe neighborhood." Not with a multi-hue-haired, known-U4EA addict roaming the streets, it's not.

They talk about walking through leaves in their respective hometowns (Cambridge for her; Minneapolis for him) on Halloween and they wind up at this corner looking at each other all longingly and Brandon gets what I assume he thinks is his Sexy Face on (heave), or maybe he's just looking at Emily and wondering how she went about scalping Zack Morris and disposing of the body so easily.

So of course, once their inane eye-fucking and foliage talk is over, Emily calls for the kids to hold her hand so they can cross the street.  And of course the kids are gone because "Predictability" is this show's middle name.

We then get this sort of cherry picker-shot of them hurriedly walking about 5 feet in either direction in their "frantic" "search" for the children as our old friend Serious Synth Music plays in the background.

Next, Brandon's and Emily's heads are in the window of a police car.  Emily's attempting to explain the situation, but I'm guessing the officers took one look at her ghastly hairdo and questionable taste in men and decided that she's a negligent, good-for-nothing piece of trash.  But really, Lady Officer reassures that they get a few missing kids' reports every Halloween (really? That sounds...scary.  And flies in the face of Brandon's "Beverly Hills is a safe neighborhood" theory) and that, "we haven't lost one yet." The worthless Man Officer sitting in the driver's seat pipes in with, "What about that kid in Trousdale?" and helps nothing, although he did provide the inspiration for one of my Twitter followers, @LeniLvaughn18, to come up with My Official New Favorite Hashtag: #findthekidintrousdale.  Thanks, Leni!

The officers drive off and Emily gets a little hysterical and Brandon resorts to his favorite way of dealing with people: aggressively grabbing them.  And then they're off to fruitlessly look for the children again.

This.

Kelly and The Jimmy Rapist dance all slowly.

Nope.

Steve comes up and basically tells Donna that, much like her Dress That Ate Rodeo Drive from the "Spring Dance" episode, this mermaid costume is ridiculous and impractical.  No arguments here.

And he almost had me until he tells her, "Every now and then it'd be okay if you were just yourself," and Donna asks, "Yeah, who'd wanna see that?" and Steve's all, "I would.  And most other guys here." Because, say it with me now: All that matters is A Man's Opinion.  Oh, and then he kisses her forehead which was actually the most offensive part of this whole scene.

Back to this.  The Jimmy says, "I can't believe you're into David Letterman." Really? This is what they're talking about? MY GOD.  Kelly says that she likes to stay up late (?) and The Jimmy's all, "I bet you do." ???????????? And then it gets more stupid than you thought was ever conceivably possible when he asks her, "Did we meet in another life?" and she replies, "Yeah, we were ancient Egyptians." WHY IS THIS???? WHYYYYYYY? MY CAPS LOCK KEY IS ON THE BRINK OF DEATH DUE TO THE ENRAGED POUNDING AND CASCADES OF TEARS I KEEP RAINING DOWN UPON IT WHILE DEALING WITH THIS MESS OF A TRAINWRECK OF A GARBAGE HEAP DIALOGUE.  Help me.

Another scene with these two to make us care about this B-plot line, which we totally don't.  More panic on Emily's part...

...and, oh! HEY! More physical aggression on Brandon's part.  How delightful.

Shot of the street.

A cop car drives by and we hear Scott say, "It looks like the egg fight is gonna start a little later." Then he asks if David can hang out a little longer (Scott, you deserve to die) and David says that he can.

And then Scott pops his head out of the bushes and I don't know.

Back to these two, bursting into the H.O.W....

...and long story-not-nearly-short-enough, the kids are in the living room (where they're squealing and climbing all over Jim and we hear him ookily say, "Take you back to my castle!" which is actually why I haven't been writing lately; I got to this part, heard these words escape from Jim's talk box, and have been holed up in my non-walk-in closet, shivering on the floor and caressing my ear drums with q-tips, lit matches and pointy sticks for the past 3 weeks), and they came back to the H.O.W. after losing sight of Brandon and Emily because, as Jim says, "They said that you told them if they got separated from you they should go right back to the last place they remember."

And then Emily goes over to the couch and starts rolling around with the kids and the concerning moments in this episode just keep piling on.

But this scene does end on sort of a charming moment: Cindy informs Emily that the kids started in on their candy and that, "They ate everything.  Well...except the raisins." Brandon, once again standing kind of weirdly close to his mother, points at the corner of Cindy's mouth and tells her, "Mom, you gotta little chocolate there." Cute, right? I mean, in comparison to everything else that's gone on this episode? Sure, an appendectomy would be "cute" following this fucking atrocity of an hour.  But still.

More Things We Don't Care About.  David and Scott come to the conclusion that the egg fight is not going to happen.  Following this hang-out with David, Scott has come to the conclusion that he's going to end his own life, but will need to make it appear to be a tragic accident.

They decide to egg a car, because they're both a couple of little pricks.  We then get a shot of Brandon's Mustang turning the corner and coming down the street, and as Scott winds up to throw an egg at it, David grabs him from behind with, "Scott! Scott! Hold your fire! Hold your fire!"

Brandon, in the process of driving Emily's niece and nephew home, pulls up and David lays the ass-kissing on real thick, practically pushing Scott aside and smarming, "Yo, Brandon! How's it hangin'?" Emily is My Girlfriend for a moment and asks, "What're you two doin' hangin' around like slugs?" I've always loved that line, but mostly the way Christine Elise delivered it.

Emily continues to be a badass by telling them, "At least where I come from, we know how to have a good egg fight on Halloween...pssh, Beverly Hills kids: rich wimps." It's a pity she's currently in the car of the pukiest Beverly Hills Rich Kid EVER, but whatever.

The Mustang takes off down the street...

...and David and Scott bombard its retreating figure with eggs.  And that is the last we'll see of Scott before he "accidentally" blows himself away in the next episode.  'Til then, you fucking geek.

The only good thing to come out of the mother-fucking party.  Seriously.

Unfortunately, Donna ruins the moment by coming up and collapsing into Brenda and whispering that she has to take a piss and needs help.  Because that won't be horrifying or create a wholly awkward shift in their relationship in the slightest.  Brenda speaks for the universe and asks, "Didn't it occur to you that you just might have to go the bathroom tonight?" Rather than helping Donna, Brenda should've just shoved her to the ground.  I mean, what a daft bitch.  Also: does anyone want to be my friend? I'm really loyal and terrific.

Back over to this rubbish.  Kelly suggests getting some food but The Jimmy is too busy raping her breasts with his deadened eyes to care that the music stopped.

At the food table, Kelly says that she'll have a chicken wing, which I'm thinking might not fit into her tiny mouth.  Maybe The Jimmy agrees because he says, "No.  Have these quesadillas.  They're much better." Kelly reaffirms her love for chicken wings, which The Jimmy reacts to by saying, "The quesadillas are better.  Trust me," and doing this:

Because...that's normal human-in-society conduct? If I were Kelly, you'd be seeing a loser-shaped hole in the nearest wall following this moment, but she brushes his SO FUCKING SPOOKY behavior off with a, "Well, okay.  I guess I'd better listen then." Oh, Kelly.  No, no, no, no, no.

So this mouse bumps into her as she's forced to eat her mini-Mexican snack food and she says, "I wish there was some place where we could go that wasn't so crowded." Which, if that's not an open invitation to her vagina, I don't know what is.

Since The Jimmy translated Kelly's wanting to talk someplace a little quieter to "Please take me somewhere and force your genitals into my genitals," he leads her to some bedroom somewhere in the house.  Presumably where her screams and cries for help will go unheard by the other party-goers.  She starts to tell him an interesting factoid about the house belonging to some "movie mogul way back when," but The Jimmy cuts her off by informing her, "Hey, Bewitched.  I'm not a big one for architecture." Hey, The Jimmy.  She wasn't talking about architecture, you cretin.

Also: his moose-knuckle, while appealing to some, is convincing me to go through with that retinal detachment surgery I've been saving up for.

The Jimmy then gets all invasive and creepy, asking if Kelly has a boyfriend and if not, "Are ya lookin' for one?" Kelly, beginning to sense that something is rotten and frightening and

RUN KELLY RUUUUUUUUN in Denmark, advises him, "You know, I really don't wanna think about anything heavy or long-term like that tonight.  It's Halloween, ya know? A night of dress-up and make-believe, right? In fact, they're probably having the contest party right now, so, we should..." and she gestures toward the door.

He makes as if he's going to lead her back to the party, but turns around at the last minute to ask, "You like to play make-believe?" Kelly says, "Sure, everyone does." Again, Kelly's answer is obviously a tiny coir "Welcome" mat at the place where her labium minus meet, so The Jimmy says, "Great," kicks the door shut, Scary Synth Drums start beating in the background and he rapily rapes out, "Let's play make believe."

Oh, and he locks the door.  Like any polite rapist does.

Poor Kelly looks rightfully like she's going to hurl up at least a couple of weeks' worth of food.

Another shot of this, this time accompanied by more Scary Synth Drums.

In the bedroom, Kelly's letting guy know that this is not cool and that she wants to go back to the party.  The Jimmy has apparently never heard of a little concept called "free will," and says, "I don't think ya do...if you didn't wanna be up here, why'd ya come?"

Gallantly, he takes Kelly's hand and brings it to his mouth, so now, not only will she have to deal with the after-effects of an attempted rape for years and years, she'll have to do it with only one hand, because there's no way she's voluntarily keeping her right one after this raw sewage-soaked gesture.  And even if she decides to keep it, I would imagine she'll have to have it encased in some kind of hyperbaric chamber that's constantly filled with bleach and borax and the tears of kittens.

He tells her he thought they were going to play make-believe and Kelly says, "This isn't the kinda make-believe I had in mind." He's all, "Well, I'm lookin' at what you're wearin' and I'm thinkin' this is exactly the kinda make-believe you have in mind," because that's charming.  Kelly firmly restates, "The answer is 'no,' okay?"

The Jimmy then takes a different tack: he turns on this gross aw shucks, golly gee act, apologizing for scaring her and that, "I think I scared myself," and asking for her forgiveness.  Kelly just wants to peace the fuck out and flee any interaction with this person for the rest of eternity so she says, "Let's just forget about it...you're forgiven.  Let's just go back to the party, okay?"

But of course we all know this isn't over yet, and he yet again turns up the repulsiveness to 11 and asks, "Kiss and make up?" Kelly, managing not to spit, retch and/or laugh in this monstrosity's face, tells him, "I don't think so."

And here we go, The Jimmy says, "I do," grabs Kelly by the back of the neck and tackles her to the bed.

As he straddles her, she screams, "Get off of me! Get off me! Stop it!" to which he Don Juan-ly replies, "Cut the drama, Prom Queen.  I'm sure this is nothin' you haven't done before." Oh, how I wish the gun sticking out of his holster, completely within Kelly's reach, was real and loaded and ready to be Scott Scanlon'ed into The Jimmy's abdominal region.

Kelly's cries do not deter The Jimmy, and he continues to grope and molest and assault her, no big deal.  Thanks be to Donna's stupid fucking mermaid costume, because she and Brenda exit the bathroom at this moment.  Brenda thinks that they've intruded on some consensual, pre-roll-in-the-hay action, and says, "Ooo, Kelly, we're so sorry.  Um, why don't we..."

The pond scum rolls off of her after hearing the other girls and Kelly gets up from the bed and scurries over to her friends, crying, "I'm so glad you're here."

Brenda asks what's wrong and The Jimmy interjects with, "She's kidding.  We're playin' make-believe." Kelly rebuts that, saying that he threw her on the bed and was in the process of, you know, raping her, when they walked in.  He, of course, continues on with his "she's joking" nonsense, but Kelly points to the door and says, "He locked the door, Brenda."

Brenda Bad Bitches over, unlocks the door, opens it, calls The Jimmy a bastard and yells down the hall, "Dylan! Come in here! I need you!"

Dylan and Steve, appearing to be the doofiest crime-fighting team ever, enter the room.  Brenda tells them that The Jimmy attacked Kelly, and The Jimmy wins precisely zero people over with, "Hey, we were both into it, and then suddenly she started lying.  You guys know what I mean, right?" Know your audience, The Jimmy.

Steve is in no mood for The Jimmy's shenanigans ("shenanigans" = "attempted rape") so he grabs him by the collar and growls, "How dare you lay a hand on her! I love that girl." Kelly's all, "Thanks and everything, Steve.  But you're just...okay."  But not really.

Dylan steps in to prevent Steve from tenderizing The Jimmy's mug with his fists and says, " Let's just take Dale Evans here and show him the trail." And call the fucking cops?!?!? Also, Dale Evans was a woman, so I don't know if that was an intentional slight by the writers, like "Ooo, The Jimmy sure is a girl," or if it was just an ignorant mistake.  I'm guessing the latter, although if it was the former, that would be a pretty ignorant insult as well.

So then Kelly cries on Brenda's shoulder and Sad Piano Music plays.

Zoro & Clyde, coming in September on The CW.  They push The Jimmy out the front door and fella does not know when to quit because he says, "You got this all wrong...I mean, when a girl dresses like a slut..." and then before my head can entirely collapse in on itself and then be swallowed whole by my neck...

Steve does this.  GO STEVE.  Now CALL THE FUCKING COPS.

Except all that happens is that Dylan and Steve go BACK IN THE HOUSE HOLY FUCK CALL THE COPS.  Fine, it wasn't full-fledged rape, but it was most definitely sexual assault, and plain old assault at minimum.

But I guess now The Jimmy can just go back to USC and rape a bunch of sorority girls.  No big.

Back upstairs, Kelly's an understandable mess, talking about how she's stupid because, "I thought I was being all sexy dressing like this, you know.  Look where it got me."

Aaaaand, here we go, Brenda interjects with, "I tried to tell you that the dress was a little too much." Oh, Brenda.  Brenda, Brenda, Brenda.  I love you.  But, no.  Kelly tells her it wasn't the dress, "It was me.  And what I did."

Brenda proceeds to make up for her horrible comment a moment ago with her fresh hat, fierce eyebrow game, sensational hairdo and by reassuring her friend, "You said no.  He should've listened, period."

Kelly, who's probably going to need some intensive therapy following this nightmare, not to mention the Ross Weber debacle, adds that, "I said no too late.  I might as well have been saying yes, ya know?...I was trying to act all cool and everything.  Talking sexy." Um.......................................................was that sexy talk? Good god.  I guess she will also eventually need a lesson or two in what defines "sexy talk." Anyway, she then says that she was "leading him on."

Donna, in her busted Tropical Skipper wig, manages to reform her idiocy from prior in the evening by doling out some wise words: "Well then he should go take a cold shower, or whatever they do."

Dylan, having come back from not calling the cops on The Jimmy, overhears the girls talking, enters the room to offer up some of his own sage advice (which I posted about on my Instagram approximately seven centuries ago when I had begun the writing of this recap): "Can I say something? I mean, I know the last thing you need right now is another guy tellin' you what to do or what to think...you're blamin' yourself for leadin' that guy on.  But I want you to know, as a guy, it doesn't matter how much of a magnet a girl turns on, a guy always has a choice of not making her do somethin' she doesn't wanna do." I said it then and I'll say it again: SING IT, SISTER.

Dylan takes his leave of the room as Kelly tells the girls, "The weird part is, that before we came up here, he seemed like such a nice guy, ya know?" I would beg to differ, especially following his predilection for stuffing quesadillas in peoples' mouths, but whatever.  Brenda's all, "It doesn't matter if he's cute or smart or Prince Charming." (And he was none of those things, but again: whatever.)

Donna speaks for the world by chiming in with, "He was a rapist." Kelly tries to downplay his actions (WHY I don't fucking know), but Donna's having none of it: "What the hell else can you call it? Kelly, what would've happened if we hadn't come in here?" GO DONNA.

To the Peach Pit.

Nope.  Sorry, folks.  We're not done with this mess, even though it totally seemed like we were, right? Emily thanks Brandon for helping her find the kids, even though, had he not been around, she probably wouldn't have lost them to begin with.  Which he MIRACULOUSLY cops to, saying, "If I didn't exist you probably wouldn't have lost 'em in the first place.  And a lot of people would be a lot happier.  Namely, a pathetic thirty-something blogger whose life revolves around writing about this stinking, soul-extinguishing show," or something along those lines.

So then Emily shows a hint of her future as a stalker by informing Brandon that she didn't just happen upon his house that evening; she purposefully brought the kids there so that she could see him.  How it's not clear as day to anyone on this show that this girl suffers from severe mental problems is beyond me.  Whatever, Brandon calls her "weird," but adds, "I'm a pretty peculiar person myself." Emily says, "No, you are frighteningly normal." Well, he's frighteningly something.

They talk about going to the Brownstone Mansion party, but that they don't have costumes, so they'll just say they're another couple going as Brandon and Emily and it's all very sick-making, made all the worse when this happens:

So they eat each other's faces off, and Brandon gets a little rapey himself by having that Death Grip on the back of Emily's neck.  Maybe he can grab her by the arm all aggressively again.

Back to the party for the last goddamn time this evening.  Steve and Kelly walk out on the porch and she tells him, "I'll never forget what you did for me tonight." Steve tells her that he meant it and because of that...

...Kelly feels obligated to kiss Steve's undoubtedly cologne marinated cheek.  Seriously: the girl can't catch a break..

These three come from somewhere, Donna wearing Dylan's jacket, because she's either in her underwear or commando after removing the fin portion of her costume.  Brandon and Emily approach and Brandon geeks out, "Hey, where's the party?"

Steve and Kelly arrive on the scene and Steve asks, "We're gonna go to the Peach Pit and unwind, do you wanna join us?" Brandon says, "How long's it been since we've been at the Peach Pit?" and Emily responds, "Minutes." Jason Priestley and Christine Elise do have very good chemistry together, I must say.

Donna asks about dropping her costume off at the store first, because apparently Hollywood Costume or Palace Costume Co. or whatever it's called is a 24-hour operation.  Dylan requests, "Can we, uh, stop by the bank first?" as he does this with his gun...

...and Brenda, whose outfit is BEYOND-BEYOND, pulls out her pistol and says, "Absolutely, let's go, Clyde," and these two are just The Sex and then there's more Beverly Hills wolves howling and we thankfully fade to black.

Join me here in six months? Nine? I don't know.  I've got a busy summer ("busy summer" = "not really any busier, just with more alcohol involved") ahead of me.  Anyway, next in our lineup of classic Beverly Hills, 90210 episodes is Poor (Yup, He's) Dead Scottie Scanlon's swan song, "The Next Fifty Years." As mentioned in this recap, David will mourn Scott for all of a third of an episode, scream down Scott's batshit mom as she's in the throes of grieving her deceased son, and alienate the one person, Donna, who spookily enjoys his company.  Also, Mel's monotone everything makes an appearance, and that does whatever the exact opposite of "bodes well for an episode" is.  So stock up on your jugs of Riunite Lambrusco and maybe move somewhere with an active volcano (in case the urge to fling yourself into molten lava and ash takes over you after being subjected to a young Brian Austin Green's attempts at crying) in preparation for this one, you guys.  Until then.