In which Emily loses her ever-loving mind. Over Brandon. Yeah. She's clearly a lunatic.
"Rockin'" music starts up as we open on West Bev, exterior. Our friend Neon-&-Black Backpack is present and accounted for, this time with Joe E. Tata's name splayed across his ass, in some kind of early prototype of the Juicy Couture velour tracksuit pants.
After a thousandtine exterior shots of a bunch of Nobody Extras wandering around campus, we eventually wind up inside, to this hallway, where Emily and her plaid pajama pants and odd vest she clearly stole from a kids' vintage cowboy costume, stops and sees...
...this guy. Who is clearly Not Brandon. But for some reason she thinks it's Brandon. Even though I could tell you just by looking at the back of him that this is definitely Not Brandon, seeing as this guy's got a good 6 inches on Brandon (I kid, I kid - but not really) and that's totally not Brandon's hair. And this guy doesn't emit an overwhelming fetor of smug, either, so that's actually all the proof I need.
So because Brandon broke up with her in the previous episode, she decides that she's now going to strangle him to death, which you can see here. And which I'm all for. Unfortunately, none of that is true. She just goes up to Not Brandon and starts giving him what I presume she thinks is a Sexy Massage that will erase the memory of her drugging him to Jesus and then acting like it wasn't a big deal in the slightest.
Oh! But it turns out she was giving so fucking obviously Not Brandon the rubdown, and not the Brandon we've all come to know and loathe and wish was, if not dead, then at least irrevocably muted. Emily, embarrassed, says, "This is Brandon's locker." Not Brandon, clearly not knowing what he's saying, says, "Not anymore. They just assigned it to me. But, uh, I can be Brandon if you want." Nobody wants that, dude. Nobody.