Part 2 of Season 3, Episode 6: Castles in the Sand - Come for the gals' timeless beach looks; stay for Brandon bringing down the hammer on Brooke's verbal hate crimes...and then his boner gets in the way and it all goes to hell, so thanks for nothing, Minnesota.

If I don't keep writing this nonsense, I might just cry...more so.  So Tag Team, we're back again.  We're going to check it AND wreck it and then we're going to lie down with a couple of cats because we're tired and sad and existing right now is a CHORE. 

Some Synth Drummage that then segues into a Doogie Howser, M.D. theme song homage plays us to the Beach Club, where yet another banner is being strung up, this time advertising "BHBC CASTLES IN THE SAND." Andrea must've experienced her first series of multiple orgasms upon seeing this.

The camera pans over a bunch of extras earning their day rate by pretending to know how to construct professional-grade sand castles...

...and we wind up here: Brandon in his work uniform - once more: decidedly not working, just getting paid to fuck off, I guess - and holding a shovel; and Brooke donning something similar to the slovenly, perspiration-soaked volleyball top she wore in "Sex, Lies and Volleyball / Photo Fini" and dumping out of bucket water.  Brandon insists that they're out of their league in this, sighhhhhhhhhhh, sand castle competition, but Brooke reminds him, "That's why [the pros] are in their own division."

He admits that he's never built one before - not even on the shores of Lake Minnetonka?!?? I won't believe it - and she calls him a "virgin." I barf in my own mouth as she continues: "Seriously, if we can't beat sister Brenda, and Andrea [she pronounces it "Anne-drea" - them's fightin' words!] and the kiddies, and whoever else, we're pretty sorry stuff." Brandon comes around but reminds her that he can only help for a little bit: "I've got work to do." The self-roasting is incredible.  Fucking Rickles over here.

Brooke proceeds to feign disappointment in her Theatre Kid Camp way, coquettishly teasing, "Okay, if you're busy...I'm sure Steve wouldn't mind getting into the wet sand with me." Firstly: sickening.  Secondly: Brooke is deranged.

Which is all the more evident as she gives this him sly, sultry look, the effect of which is lost entirely due to that hairdo of hers.

He beckons her toward him with the wriggle of his index finger and demands, "Gimme those lips, honey"...

...then concerningly clasps the back of her neck and head with the Patented Brandon Death Grip© and they start aggressively macking...

...and then he LITERLLY LIES HER DOWN IN THE SAND WHAT IS HAPPENING and let's take a look-see in the background, where Brenda and Donna sit on a mound of sand, watching all of this grotesquerie play out with what I can only assume is extreme gastrointestinal distress...

...and then we're up close with gals, Donna saying, "Wow, she is into your brother something fierce," and Brenda teasing back sarcastically, "Yeah, so you noticed."  They do this adorable torso-check with each other and I love their friendship.  And the outfits and accessories here: everything they're wearing and how they're so simplistically and chicly styled is burned on my brain forever and ever.

Part 1 of Season 3, Episode 6: Castles in the Sand - Set to the tune of "Islands in the Stream," right? Because I'm not going to be the only fucking one with that song stuck in my head as I write this thing.

It's been a beat.  Lots going on; none of it good. So let's not waste a minute more in the hellscape that is our current reality and instead dive on into the only distraction I have left in my life: an overly-wordy rehash of a very old television show about a bunch of 27-year-old 17-year-olds.  Come along as I do my worst.

So even though we all live in the world and know what we're about to witness is a dumb dream, we're meant to believe we're still in Paris...

...uh huh...

...once more with feeling: Paris.

We wind up here in a park, Brenda - a VISION in this white halter dress - walking on a bench while holding Rick's paw as he strolls alongside her on the grass.  She tells him, "Here I was, feeling guilty for deceiving you when you knew all along I wasn't French."

Rick pretends that he's not a total nitwit (spoiler: he 100% is) and that he wasn't completely bamboozled by her horrifying accent work in the previous episode and lies, "Well, maybe not all along.  But the truth is, I'm really glad you turned out to be a red-blooded American girl." Oh, we know, Dean Cain.  We fucking know, you pile.

They stop and he literally lifts her person from the bench and sets her on the ground before him, something I'm pretty sure I thought was "hot stuff" at 12-years-old but now find to be the height of infantilizing and squicky.

He asks, "You don't regret missing your plane, and stayin' here with me in Europe?"...

...and instead of telling the truth - "Oh, no, I totally do!" - Brenda says, "No, not at all.  I really think I'm falling in love with you, Dylan."

The realization of what just happened takes a moment to dawn on Rick - given that the inside of his skull probably looks like this - but he eventually furrows his brow as Frantic Synth comes in...

...and Brenda, realizing her gaffe, quickly tries to course-correct with a stuttered, "I mean, Rick"...

...and then we're immediately inside the U-S-of-A-bound plane, with Brenda snapping-to from her really boring dream (strolling with the incel-adjacent, stupor-inducing Rick in a park? Talk about a drag).  She sighs and takes off her headphones, making a mental note to never fall asleep again.

The camera pans over to Donna seated next to her, expositing for Brenda and the audience, "We're almost in New York.  Can you believe it?" Brenda says that she can't and, "I miss Paris already." Donna concurs but apparently longed for the feeling of her boyfriend's persistent semi-upright chub pressed against her thigh more, because she adds, "I can't wait to see David."

And then OOPSIE POOPSIE Brenda just can't help herself and declares, "I know what you mean.  I can't wait to see Rick."

They exchange A Look and sort of giggle and I really won't be happy until "Rebel with a Cause" when Rick is given the ol' heave-au revoir and relegated to but a distant and dull short-term memory.