Let's Make Fun of all the Clothes from Famous Original Beverly Hills, 90210: Part 4 of Season 3, Episode 4: Sex, Lies and Volleyball / Photo Fini

Get all the way in: Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. And now - FINALLY - Part 4:

Inside a probable den of iniquity, we see a tacky party going on and Pierre and Donna standing in the middle of the tacky happenings.

Pierre, possibly the biggest cheesedick in the cheesedick game - and that includes one Steve "Business in the Front, Party Nowhere to be Found" SAUNders - points out to Donna some other presumable-lech from across the room, "Christophe," who's the head of the modeling agency, and therefore, Donna should "act like [she] know[s] who is he." He's probably also on Interpol's Red Notice list, so I'm certain half the world's law enforcement knows who he is as well.

Pierre goes on: "Everyone else, you can yawn in their face, or even step on their toes. But not him, d'accord?" She laughs and agrees, then asks, "Do you think we can go somewhere and talk for a few minutes, just the two of us?" He tells her that they'll speak after the party, but when she presses...

...she's ignored as Pierre greets the aforementioned Christophe, who is shockingly more viscous than Pierre himself, and who comments on Donna's beauty en francais...

...then does this, which means Donna's now going to have to decontaminate her hand by sawing it off, urinating on it, then lighting it on fire.

As all of this is going down, we get this shot from behind Beret a few yards away, undoubtedly observing some kind of sex trafficking ritual...

...then we see her head-on, still looking confused / concerned.

Fade to later. The party has almost entirely dispersed, and Donna is shaking hands with a couple as a cater waiter cleans up nearby.

She looks a little lost, and leans up against a couch-arm while hopefully mentally drawing up a swift exit plan for what's coming down the pike.

Cut over to Pierre, saying his goodbyes to a bunch of people who are clearly desperate to flee his vicinity, given his treacherous vibez and the likely excessive eau de Drakkar Noir emissions wafting off of him.

Beret approaches and asks if she should take Donna back to her hotel, and after Pierre says that he'll take her himself, Beret says in a scolding tone, "Pierre, it's late."

He literally shoos her away with a wave of his greasy hand and thus endeth Beret. We truly hardly knew ye. I would say she could maybe join Worthless Nat's and Worthless Henry's Worthless ranks, but I don't think she even qualifies, given her Worthlessness mostly just involved head tilts and disapproving looks.

Now let's just get this alllll the way out of the way as expeditiously as possible so that we can take our Drano baths and call it a damn day: Pierre slithers over to Donna; she thanks him for the party and talks about not feeling as pretty as the other models except for when he's taking her picture. He says the following OUT LOUD: "There is something fabulous that happens in a young girl in that fleeting moment when she becomes a woman. And you are on the brink of this transformation. And I feel honored to be here to witness it." My esophagus has just handed in its immediate notice of resignation and is also lodging a complaint against me with the LA County Superior Court for extreme emotional and spiritual distress.

Donna tells him, "I'm so grateful for your faith in me, but I don't know if I can..."

...and then this happens...

...AND THEN THIS FUCKING HAPPENS STOP and he says, "I will help you. That's what I'm here for."

Poor Donna. She takes a step back and says, "Look, I think you're getting a little too close. I have a boyfriend. And I know that you have a wife!"

He continues with the handsiness, brushing her shoulder and reminding her, "And neither of them are here."

Angry now, Donna snaps, "Stop, okay? You said tonight was about business, but I don't think there's anything in that contract about this!" He infuriatingly calls her "chérie" and says that she needs to read between the lines. I need this man to be shoved oily tendrils-first into an actively-erupting volcano.

Donna is rightfully horrified, looking down and then tearing up after he says, "Go home, baby." She informs him she is absolutely not a baby...

...and then the French pervert version of Ross Geller says, "But you are. You are just not, apparently, my baby. Unless, perhaps, a good night's sleep in your crib will help you change your mind." My god.

But nope. She's out.

As she scurries away, he calls after her, "Do you realize what you're throwing away?! Donna, don't be stupid."

But if history has taught us anything, we all know how Donna feels about being called stupid.

Oh to the hell no. And a nice little callback.

I love her so much. She straightens herself up, smiles, then strides back toward him...

...as he stands there all smirk-jerk...

...and we unfortunately don't get the pleasure of actually witnessing what happens next - boo and hiss - because it's now the next morning, Eiffel Tower Stylezzzzz.

Inside Brenda and Donna's room, Brenda sits reading on the bed as Donna enters. They greet each other...

...and as Donna walks around Brenda's bed, Brenda apologizes: "I am really sorry."

But Donna stops her: "No, Brenda. You were right. He made a pass at me, just like you said." She and her bouffant sit down. "So I had to do it."

Thinking - in the words of Steve - that Pierre and Donna did "the nasty" hork, Brenda exclaims, "You did?!"

"Yeah! I threw wine on him." See what she did there? Though that deviant deserved castration, I'll take her slinging a glass of vino in his face, too, with the hope that the vino was actually battery acid.

Brenda, thrilled. Which: same.

But Donna sadly declares, "I guess now I have to go back to being plain, old, ordinary me, huh?"

Brenda disagrees: "Believe me, you will never be ordinary. You are a very unusual girl...you don't give yourself enough credit. Look how far you've come. You have an incredible portfolio of beautiful pictures, your French is getting better every single day, and you stood up to someone who was trying to take advantage of you. All by yourself."

The Chords of Best Friendery start tootling in the background as Donna says, "Brenda, merci beaucoup. Tu es une très bonne amie." Brenda sweetly replies, "I love you, too." And then they hug and I LOVE THEM. We should all have similar female friendships in our lives.

Nighttime. The Pit.

Inside, Nikki sits at a table, fiddling with a napkin.

Disappointingly, this is what she's waiting for, a real letdown if ever there was and I imagine this was the sound that accompanied his arrival.

They greet each other and she flings her arms around his neck, raving, "Now that you're here, it was well worth the wait." As she goes in for a kiss, the little puke grabs her arms and removes them from his person, all, "We need to talk."

They sit opposite each other, Nikki already looking crestfallen - ma'am, no - and David finally spilling the beans: "Look, I haven't been honest with you...I have a girlfriend and she's in Paris for the summer."

Nikki sort of chuckles and reminds him, "So? I have a boyfriend back home, remember?" and when David says nothing, she says, "Look, if you don't like me anymore, just tell me, okay?"

David tells her it's not that: "I like you a lot. It's just, you and your boyfriend have some sort of arrangement, and my girlfriend and I don't. And I just don't feel right fooling around behind her back. Especially with someone I like so much." Way to act self righteous when you've already done said fooling around behind Donna's back, you tool. And we already also know that you have zero intention of telling her about it and she'll only discover your transgression through a series of wacky circumstances come fall.

Nikki, very depressingly, informs David, "The only 'arrangement' my boyfriend and I have is that he gets to mess around with anything in spandex and I get to feel like dirt." I can't wait until several episodes down the line when we finally get to meet this boyfriend of hers, played with unintentional hilarity by one David Arquette, and we can laugh and laugh and laugh at the notion that this "boy" (in quotes because he could pass for 28, easy) has elastane-cloaked poon just flying in his face at all times. Not that David Arquette in certain subsequent iterations isn't an attractive guy; but his portrayal of a verging-on-middle-aged high school Senior named "Diesel Stone" is ludicrous in the best way possible.

Speaking of laughable: "I wish I could find someone like you." Gross.

But David - self-aware king? - agrees with me and tells her, "That's nice, but believe me, I'm no big bargain. Don't worry, you'll find someone who's right for you." And then he pulls a copy of his demo cassette out of the giant pocket of his giant jorts...

...which just makes Nikki cry more - because why wouldn't it? - and she lies through the tears and tells him, "Thanks. I'm sure it'll be a big hit someday." And thus endeth Nikki...FOR NOW.

No.

You guys, I cannot.

This has gone on for TOO LONG, i.e. a singular episode. So I'm going to give you the truncated version to bring this sandy hellscape of a story line to a merciful conclusion:

Steve. Brooke. In the finals. Steve is being a real incel about Brooke denying him; his head's not in the game, and acts like a prick when Brooke attempts to settle his nerves.

Worthless Henry! Proving his non-Worthlessness by officiating the match!

Dylan, Kelly and Brandon are there...

...as are Andrea - picking up some Not Working hot tips from Brandon, I see - David and the Walshes! Boy, was I wrong - they're getting an additional, wordless fifteen seconds of screen-time this ep!

Team Rando, Steve and Brooke's opponents, are scary. Like, Olympian-levels of beefed-up and serious.

Blah blah it's break time because Steve lost the bout for him and Brooke; up next is a rubber match.

Brandon runs over to where Steve pouts and tells him to fucking get over himself.

Steve gets his coont on and sasses Brandon: "I don't need any advice from you on sports or women, okay? I may be playing lousy, but at least I'm playing clean. You lied." So in addition to being a big old bitch, Steve is 93 billion light years of delusional. Got it.

They go back and forth about the Brooke of it all - "You told me you wouldn't go after her and you did" "I didn't go after her; she came after me" - and then stare at her sweating and slopping and dribbling Gatorade down her chin onto her disgusting tank top a few yards away...

...and then suddenly, Steve understands and says he would've gone after her, too, had the shoe been on the other foot. I'm so happy that Brooke gets a say in any of this.

But he still needs to take a page out of Dylan's Sermon of Sad Sackery:"Ya know what hurts, Brandon? I'm never in your shoes. Her wanting you instead of me, it's typical. I thought maybe this time, I had a chance. With the volleyball and everything." Something something go back and read my recap of your evening at the Peach Pit with Brooke and Brandon and tell me how you EVER thought this person was interested in you.

Whatever WHATEVER all's well that ends well and Brandon pulls the same move on his friend that he pulls on The Ladies and also lies, "Hey, you're a winner, buddy. Why don't ya go out there and prove it, huh?"

Back to the court. They make up. Time for a nap. But first! ALL the volleyball:

Setting.

Bumping.

Diving.

Cheering. And maybe Cindy having had one glass of white wine too many at lunch.

Whistle-blowing.

Spiking! WINNING.

The crowd! Both sides...

...GOING INSANE. Over a local beach club volleyball tournament.

Steve. Brooke. Hugging.

Aww! Henry's so happy for them!: "Game and match! Sanders and Alexander!"

The Gang pours onto the court, congratulating two people with really bad haircuts.

Brandon. Brooke. Non-assault variation of kissing.

Steve approaches. "Party at my mom's house?" They're going to be friends. "You gotta remember one thing, though. [Brandon] may have a terrific smile, but I could wipe him off the court in volleyball."

Snaps pulled. Hurray?

Oh fuck all the way off. Andrea and David walk off and Kelly follows behind before stopping and turning to grab Dylan's arm, all, "Come on, pokey."

As they walk, she says, "Ya know, I thought I was making a mistake not going to Paris, but this summer's turning out okay," like, yeah, uh huh, this has already been discussed between the two of you WE GET IT. Also, how many times did I attempt to replicate Kelly's outfit here between the ages of 12 and 13? Infinity. And how many times did I do it unsuccessfully? Also infinity.

And then this happens, and a truly lame and exhausting Casablanca reference gets brought back from the dead when she tells him, "Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

The Key-Tar of Betrayal begins and she sort of rubs down the front of his shirt and he looks awkwardly at her hand with a full erection in his Screech pants.

And she stares up at him, batting lashes, hands in pockets, shoulder shrugging and baby-giggling all the while. There goes the last of my lower gastrointestinal tract as well as my desire to cultivate interpersonal relationships in my life.

Faaaaade to later. Kelly walks alongside the cabanas in a TREMENDOUS halter short-suit thing, in which she looks GLORIOUS and which almost makes me forget how much I hate her right now.

David runs up from behind, carrying a postcard from Donna, from which he reads to Kelly: "'Dear David, I've really gotten into the swing of things here and Brenda says my French is even good enough to go shopping alone. Love you, miss you, Donna.'"

Kelly laughs and doesn't at all second-guess what she's about to go do at the mere mention of Brenda's name, because Kelly sucks.

Anyway, David beams: "Cool, huh? She misses me and she loves me." He goes on, "I just wanna thank you for setting me straight on being faithful and all. You're a great sister."

Kelly manages to look the slightest bit guilty as she says, "You're welcome."

Hugs and kisses. I'll bet his cheek tastes like sweat and LA Looks Hair Gel drippings.

She tells him, "Look...get outta here" - something I say every time David appears onscreen - "I gotta change." Yeah, change into a horrible person and deceive your friend from a cool 6,000 miles away. Except she's always kind of been terrible, so whatever.