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 brain 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.
Then: the Ballad of the Summer of Fuckery starts up. Prepare yourselves to hear this - as I recall - 157,000 times over the course of the next ten or so episodes. It will haunt your nightmares. The camera fades onto the beach...
...eventually panning up from the foot of some sleeping bags to the daylight horror that is Kelly, propped up on her elbow, watching Dylan sleep. I hate them both so very much.
Just then, he awakens and gives her a groggy, "Morning, camper." Can it. He asks how she liked sleeping on the beach.
She, baby-voiced to HELL and back, coos, "Well, I think ordering that shooting star was a little over the top. But other than that, it was pretty cool." He sits up and finally acts like an actual teenage boy: "Yep. Could've been even better." With fucking, he means. He means it would've been better with some fucking.
Snooooze: she's glad they didn't cross "that" line; he says just because they didn't take the journey down to Pound Town doesn't mean that nothing happened, asking in an aggressively off-putting tone, "Who fell asleep in my arms last night?"; she admits that they did connect but reminds him of how much he loves Brenda; he, finalizing his descent into full-blown scumbaggery, demands, "Did I talk about Brenda last night? Am I talkin' about her right now?"
And then this is TEDIOUS, he asks, "Can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that we have not become more than just 'good friends' this summer?" I holler into the gaping chasm of my life, "THIS HAS BEEN COVERED. AD NAUSEUM."
Kelly proceeds to make clear just how selfish she really is: "Do you wanna make love so we can prove that I have become once again the class bimbo?" So this isn't actually about hurting your friend? It's about not being perceived poorly by your peers? Got it. Also: stop saying "make love"; it's creepy and no teenager speaks like that.
I said stop it.
She brings up Brenda again even though she just demonstrated that's the least of her concerns: "How are we gonna feel when [she] comes home and asks us what we've been doing all summer?" I assume you'll just lie through your teeth for months and months and the...oh, that's EXACTLY what you're going to do? 10-4.
Just then, the no-sex-having Teletubby that is Andrea and a gaggle of Kampz for Kidz kids comes around some rocks; she shrieks in pathetic ecstasy, "Come on, guys, there's some great shells over here, LOOK!" I'm going to need Andrea to get a grip as well as some self-pleasure aides. Thoughts of the sentient ream of dot matrix printer paper that is her long-distance boyfriend aren't going to keep her sated on those long, lonely nights working on the next non-exciting issue of Das Blaze, so I suggest busying herself with...herself, rather than reaching climax over some seashells down by the seashore.
Her sudden appearance causes the two degenerates to FREAK all the way out, and Kelly burrows further into her sleeping bag and demands that Dylan zip her up.
He jogs over to a clueless Andrea, easily lying to her that his friend, "Kevin," partied too hard the night before...
...and we cut back to a cartoonishly groaning and wriggling Kelly in the bag (kudos to her on the least believable depiction of a hungover person ever; this is like Saved by the Bell levels of farcical)...
...which Andrea somehow buys, because she's a 45-year-old loser desperate for people to like her and easily convinced to bend to their whims, so she steers the kids away from the scene and over to another part of the beach where she can continue to alienate a bunch of fifth graders with her sad, sad life.
Back over to the Campsite of Sin, Kelly throws open the bag and snarks, "Kevin?" Idiot, what did you want him to say?!? He tells her that he had to think fast and she continues on with the one and only reason she cares about being found out: hurting Brenda. Ahahhahahaaahajkalla, no! Of course it's not that! Did you think I was being serious? Silly reader. Because you and I both know that OF COURSE it's All About Kelly: "I've worked too hard to change my reputation to start sneaking around now." Okay, Taylor Swift.
I'm slipping into a coma as Dylan is a douche and shouts some more at a woman he supposedly likes and ultimately threatens to tell Brenda.
Kelly does an about-face and says, actually, nothing really happened happened between them this summer: "We watched Casablanca, we saw some stars. That's it."
He says...something. I refuse to acknowledge it.
She continues on with some dribble about...I don't care.
No.
I, too, am thankful, but THIS MUST END.
And BLESSED BE, it does, because we're back at the BHBC cabanas. Something that's supposed to pass as "music" is playing, i.e. a DJ Funky Fresh Silver Original is grievously attacking our ears and souls.
Inside the Taylor/Silver cottage, David stands at his keyboard as Steve paces before him wearing underwear. In this completely realistic-for-a-bunch-of-high-schoolers scene, Steve wants David to change a bridge on the song and go back to the chorus, something on which I'm absolutely certain he's an expert given that he's the adopted failson of a stalled D-list 1980s' sitcom actress. Oh, and David gripes about Steve not getting him any gigs, which will unfortunately come into play later in the episode.
Brandon appears at the sliding door to remind them of Brenda's homecoming soirée later that night. He does it in a really smarm-douche Brandon fashion but I won't be acknowledging any of that.
David then bolts to pull Kelly off of Dylan's jock in time for them to pick up Donna from the airport. The entirety of this scene absolutely could've been an email.
HoW. Evening.
Inside the living room, Brandon finishes hanging one side of a banner that reads "Welcome Home Brenda and Donna" above the fireplace. He stands back and we see that Brooke - wearing a frumpish tangerine linen? pantsuit? that ages her by at least two decades - is securing the other end, and he thanks her for making it. It's very graphic design is my passion, but that was the entirety of the '90s, so what are you gonna do.
She spews out some computer nerd-shit about configuration and input and then they start munching each other's face off and then the party's over, or it would be for me if I was in attendance, because we live in a society where there are rules in place that frown upon this kind of depraved behavior in front of innocent bystanders.
From across the room, two hard-up afterthoughts talk about both of them being okay with the fact that Brandon and Brooke are together and pre-fornicating right before their very eyes.
Steve is 41 and Silk Blended to Hades...
...Andrea is still 45 and unfortunately has two pig-dogs behind her performing sex acts on each other.
There's a knock at the door and into the foyer, Cindy, Brenda and Jim enter, Cindy announcing, "We're home!" Thanks for coming out, Cin.
Brenda gives out hugs to all and of course Brandon goes in for a too-close-to-the-mouth kiss on her cheek right after slobbering all over his girlfriend's maw. I think I'll puke now.
Brenda sort of scans the room, probably thinking, fuuuuuuck, THESE are the only people you could get to come to my party??? but then to Cindy and Jim: "Can I talk to you in the kitchen for a second?"
We follow the trifecta and, after setting her bag down on the stool, Brenda asks, "Mom, Dad, is there some reason why Dylan isn't here?"
Jim IMMEDIATELY goes to "HEATED": "Let's not start." The men on this show really need to work on a little something called emotional self-regulation because WOW none of them have a single lick of it.
But Our Brenda, cool, calm, collected, isn't phased: "Dad, I'm not starting. But are you saying that we're right where we left off? That you still don't want me to see Dylan?" Cindy advises that "We really haven't talked about it yet," to which Brenda, still a bastion of tranquility, responds, "Well, I wish you would. I really need to know where I stand...with you and with Dylan." And then she takes her unbothered leave back to her admittedly pitiful little gathering.
Jim and Cindy stare at each other in disbelief, and then Jim, painfully unfunny, asks, "Who was that masked woman? She didn't raise her voice. She didn't make any threats." Yeah, Jimbo is reeeeeeally the one to be talking about raised voices and empty threats. Jesus fucking Christ.
Cindy has to explain to her mook of a husband, "Isn't that why we sent her to France in the first place? I mean, so she could grow up? If it isn't Dylan, it's gonna be some other boy, Jim," and then with a punch to the gut knowing what we know and what's to come: "At least we know he loves her." Blergh.
Here. Donna, David and Kelly arrive.
More hugs abound. Donna's bodysuit is...odd. David's shirt indicates to us that he just pulled a double as the floor manager at the call center factory.
Brenda stands and asks Donna, "I thought Kelly was with you."
And then Shifty Sue appears around the door frame with a guilt-tinged "Bonjour." Oh, shut the fuck up. (Love the dress, though.)
A poor, oblivious Brenda is thrilled to see her friend and springs towards her for an embrace.
Donna announces to the room, "We brought presents!" and pulls out sweatshirts with Les Wildcats screen-printed across the front. Wow! What a terrible gift!
Back here, Brenda asks Kelly, "Do you have any matches?"
Up to the Jack-and-Jill, Kelly lights Brenda's cigarette with a match from the book of them she just happens to keep in her purse? Sure. She adds, "I cannot believe you are smoking."
Brenda informs her that everyone in Paris smokes, that it's her last one, and asks if Kelly wants a drag (she does not). They talk about Dylan, with Kelly, a true daemon, offering, "It's weird, but in the back of my mind, I sorta thought you being in Paris might change things with you guys." You have some fucking balls, I'll give you that much. Diaboliqué.
This prompts Brenda to ask her, "Can you keep a secret?" Better than anyone! For six months or so, anyway.
Brenda then launches into The Yarn of Reek, and Kelly miraculously doesn't slip into unconsciousness and fall back into the tub or anything. In the end, Brenda explains that she couldn't stay with him in Europe: "I kept thinking about how much I love Dylan...but boy, was I tempted."
Kelly, sucking hard: "Temptation can be a killer."
After tossing the cig in the toilet and spritzing some breath spray that absolutely won't conceal the smoke smell or taste in her mouth, Brenda asks Kelly what she did all summer and Kelly tells her, "Spent a lot of time with the baby." Is that what Dylan's calling his penis these days? The girls head back downstairs at the chime of the doorbell.
Surprise! It's this dildo! You know that bitch Cindy is overjoyed: "DYLAN! Thanks for coming at such short notice." Dylan crosses the threshold and shakes Jim's hand, thanking them for calling.
Kelly and Brenda descend...
...Dylan looks farrrrrrr better than he deserves to at this moment, and gazes at Brenda adoringly...
...Brenda, adorably GEEKED...
..."I remember you," and oh my, if only he wasn't a total piece of shit right now, that line would've wrecked me...
...Kelly, rightfully, has a pus on...
...running, hugging, tonguing in front of her parents, the Lord Jesus Christ, everyone, and again I must make note: there's no goddamn way he wouldn't immediately smell/taste the cigarette she just threw down. None.
Anyway, Kelly - who's still trash; just lesser trash in this instance - continues down the staircase and stares at the couple sadly. In terms of nefariousness, Dylan's really taking the cake in this scene, and I may feel a smidgen of sympathy for her here, mostly because men are awful and I'll always take the woman's side. But really, whatever. A temporary smell ya later, Blondie.
Later. Brenda asks Brandon and Brooke about the haps going on at the Beach Club the following day, and he tells her about some authentic New England clambake followed by a "big" dance. If it's anything like the previous summer's festivities, count me all the way out.
David abruptly gets his cunt on, standing from his seat - somehow not being carried away by a gust of wind in that mainsail of a shirt he's wearing - and sniping at Steve, "Which I won't be playing at." The room somehow doesn't erupt into deafening applause and cheers and Steve, David and Donna exit.
Andrea, whose entire personality is now "sand castle competition," I guess, adds, "And don't forget the sand castle competition tomorrow." Woof.
These two stand at the same time and make sort of awkward eye contact before heading to the foyer with everyone else. Slick.
Brandon and Brooke continue their streak of exhibitionism and further making everyone uncomfortable, and with a boner at full-mast, he says, "I think I'll walk ya to your car," undoubtedly for the quick passenger-side h-jay he's about to get.
What the fuck? These doofs stand VERY WEIRDLY AND AWKWARDLY in the doorway as Brenda approaches and tells Dylan to stay: "Unless you already have plans?"
Kelly takes the opportunity to scooch herself out of the house, but Brenda stops her and asks if she can hang. Kelly's the "chauffeur" of the evening, though, so she's gotta go...
...but not before Dylan gives her this husky sort of "'Night, Kel" as he stares her down with a glint in his eyes...
...and she's kind of terrified and tells him, "Yeah, goodnight," and Brenda's just a big dumb bitch and notices nothing out of the ordinary.
Into the kitchen. Dylan and Brenda are meant to be cleaning up but instead they're masticating each other's visages.
This scene amounts to him telling her that he almost forgot what she was like while she was gone (yeah, we know; we watched the summer unfold); her giving him a medallion thing that she picked up in Paris for his watch chain with Je t'aime, Brenda etched onto the back; him saying he should've gotten her something as well, to which she cluelessly says, "Why? You didn't go anywhere this summer!"; him guiltily reciprocating with, "Je t'aime aussi, Bren"...
...and then more of this smut.
Back to foyer. Jim and Cindy come down the stairs, having spent most of the night holed up in the Lair because they weren't interested in watching their son's live sex show, no doubt.
They all end up sort of coming to terms with each other, Brenda saying that she did a lot of thinking over the summer and that she's not willing to lose them (not even Jim? Just a little?) to make a point about her relationship with Dylan. She brings the matter home with a Very Brady, "I really wanna be a part of this family." Medic!
More fucking hugs. It's nice, I guess. Until the next time Jim decides to unfairly target his daughter.
Here again. Brandon raps on the door but then just barges in before she can respond, most assuredly hoping to catch his sister in the buff after missing out during her summer away, but sadly for him and his hard-working erection, she's fully clothed and unpacking her toiletry bag.
They talk about, ya know...stuff. He mentions that there's something "off" with Brooke - I'll say! - but that he can't quite place what it is, a sentiment that's going to be wholly reversed over the course of this episode and I just can't wait. More talk about Dylan, the Parents' Walsh, and that they'll need to go to France together someday. The scene is giving less incest vibez than normal so I'll take it.
Office Building.
David appears at Kelly's bedroom door, toothbrush in hand and satin-blend shirt wiiiiiiide open. Put it away, pal. Kelly futzes with her hair at her vanity as David enters, asking her, "You okay? You seemed a little weirded out at the party."
She turns, scared: "Do you think Brenda noticed?" He says no, no one noticed, and he only did because he saw her and Dylan together in the throes of some kind of aloe vera foreplay.
Yick. Kelly wonders, "What if Dylan decides to tell Brenda the truth?" David insists Dylan's not that stupid, which prompts her to ask, "You're not gonna tell Donna about that girl you fooled around with?"
He then dunks on her without even realizing it: "Well, that's different, I mean. Ya know, Nikki wasn't Donna's best friend in the world."
Kelly, tightly: "Thank you." Oh, stuff it.
He apologizes, insisting that the whole thing will blow over, before she verbally shoos him away with a terse, "Goodnight, David."
The fucking music starts up again as Kelly gazes at a cute picture of her and Brenda that's tucked into the frame of the mirror.
Then, to her reflection in the key of Sad Sack: "Some best friend." Again, I must remind you: NO ONE FEELS BADLY FOR YOU. YOU'RE NOT THE VICTIM. FUCK OFF FOREVER. Gawd. P.S. - you're hair color is gorge, though.
Anyway: until next time. Barring the imminent and complete collapse of democracy in America. Or my sanity.
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