Part 4 of Season 3, Episode 6: Castles in the Sand - Pour one out for summer episodes; the Beverly Hills Beach Club; Worthless Henry; and the time in your life before you heard David Silver whisper-sing the words "I love to touch."

(Before devouring Part 4, catch all the way up with Part 1; Part 2; and Part 3.)

Just as within the show, in real life, I'm done with summer.  It's been one of the worst I've known, for myriad reasons, and I'm ready to turn the page...mostly away from the weather season itself but also away from recapping these things and being subjected to seeing Steve in minimal-coverage attire.  So let's take one last look at the final Summer Episode of Beverly Hills, 90210.  EVER.  We'll miss you, Worthless Henry.  Promise you'll write.

We come up on the clambake of the CENTURY underway: some randoms mill about; others wait in a line for food.

Over to a table where Kelly, David and Donna sit (Donna wearing one of her All Time Bests©), eating...

...and then joining them at the next one over are Jim, Cindy, Jackie, and Mel - who really went out of his way to not dress up for the occasion, and let me be the first to advise him that no one is eager to catch a glimpse of your Degree-greased pit hair while consuming shellfish, bud - with the camera finally panning alllll the way over and up to...

...Henry.  On the phone.  Griping to some manager-type about the absentee musician he hired to play the Red Lobster-sponsored Seafood Fest at the Club.  Remember? Because Steve bought some guy off or bribed him or threatened him with the wrath of his mullet? Me, neither - I had to go back to something I wrote literally one week ago to jog my memory.

He walks up to another area of this positively sprawling deck, continuing to rant at the person on the other end of the line: "Look, I want a combo.  I don't want some guy from Pennsylvania playing some accordion." You're telling me that in alllll of Los Angeles - the entertainment capital of THE WORLD, Tinseltown herself, where you can't throw a $25 Erewhon smoothie without hitting a fame-hungry artiste who's clamoring to be onstage, any stage - only a squeeze-box playing Pennsylvanian is available as a last-minute replacement? Once again, it's just a tv show, you say? And I should be caged while I await further psychological evaluation? Roger that.

It's here that we find out the BHBC apparently doesn't have any "Employees Only" zones or locked doors or security, because Steve just appears as if from nowhere (or from the 75% off end of summer blowout clearance sale at the Beverly Connection Structure, given the blight he's changed into) as Henry shouts into the phone, "Well, just get some people over here now, okay?!" and then tries and fails to hang up the call with any amount of intimidation, seeing as it's a cordless and pressing a tiny, rubber button doesn't really have the same effect as slamming down the receiver of a regular phone.  Ah, the '90s.

Henry turns around and doesn't immediately call the cops about Steve's overt trespassing; no, rather, he confides in him: "Can you believe these guys stiffed me?"

Steve, in turn, smarms, "What can I say, Henry? There're a lot of flakes in this business."

Henry, please no: "Can your guy really sing?"

The answer to that is a resounding NO NOT AT ALL, but unfortunately, the synth tsk-tsk-tsk of "Be Be Be My Love" or whatever the fuck starts up, so we know how this turns out.  But first, oh, brother, Steve lowers his shades and rhetorically queries, "Can he sing?"

Part 3 of Season 3, Episode 6: Castles in the Sand - The satisfaction you'll feel at the end of this one far outweighs the mundanity (sand castle psychosis), the deceit (get all the way bent, Dylan and Kelly), and the stupidity (Steve cosplaying Jim while wearing a clown's wig on the back of his neck) that come with it.

In case you need to catch up on your summer reading: Part 1 is here; Part 2, right here.

Garbage Person Brooke's reign of ethnocentrism comes to a merciful conclusion, meaning our only remaining threat is the napping LaPerm cat that has annexed Steve's head as its bunk.  These perils, they are unceasing.

Oh god.  Poor Henry.  Back at the Beach Club, Steve and the outfit he pilfered from Jim's closet have velcro-ed themselves to Henry's side.  Henry's just trying to prep for the clambake, Steve!...

...by moving this potted plant from here...

...to here, two feet away.  Leave him be! He's probably picking up all of Brandon's slack, while Brandon hangs out with an awful girl with awful hair who undermined Henry's very existence and profession just a few short minutes ago.

He definitely doesn't have time for Steve's nonsense: "Look, SAUNders [and yes, he said it just like that because he can't be bothered to learn the correct pronunciation of this doofus's name], I don't have time for all this Hollywood jabber." Amen, though, as previously discussed, Steve's about twenty-seven degrees separated from even the lowest dregs of Hollywood anything, so no need to be so generous.  Obviously Steve is pestering Henry to have David play the closing? ceremonies? of the Beach Club season? later that night, and promises, "If you let David play...I promise I'll stay out of your face forever." Is this all it takes?!? Sign me up!

Henry reminds him, "I told you, I already hired a band for tonight," but Steve, a piece of shit, demands, "So fire them." The more I think about it, the more I believe Steve and Brooke are each other's true, rancid soulmates.

Henry's an actual decent human being, so he tells Steve that's he's not going to fire the band, "They've got a signed contract," and Steve, someone who's read The Art of the Deal one too many times and thinks it's a piece of non-fiction that was "penned" by someone who isn't a complete bankrupting failure in real estate, casino ownership, the presidency, and life in general, insists, "In this business, contract's are meant to be broken."

Henry is my best friend forever because he slings an arm around Steve's neck - don't get it caught in that thick, dense bramble back there, Hen! - and advises, "I guess that's why I never went into this business, babe."

As Wacky Keyboard Plinks start up, Henry gets the fuck away from Steve post haste, as one does, and I'm sad that this is our last episode with Henry.  I know he's Worthless Nat's Worthless Summer Proxy, but, much like Nat, he often serves as a nice reprieve from all the dramzzzzz.  They should've somehow kept him on the show to expand the Peach Pit with Nat (for some? fucking reason?) or to open up a a new sporting goods store in the area.