Part 1 of Season 3, Episode 8: The Back Story - It's about to get sordid in the Hills of Beverly, yo.

Time for our latest installment of An Adult Tertiary Character Oversteps A LOT of Societal Boundaries With These Kids.

We're on a street...

...and then pan over to an office-type building...

...then head inside said building to a sign that reads "Albert B. Cooke SAT REVIEW COURSE SUITE 526." As you may recall, it was called "Alfred B. Cook" in the Season 1 episode "It's Only a Test," but who the fuck cares about continuity, I guess.  Maybe Albert is Alfred's brother who added an "e" to the surname to stand out in the world of standardized test preparation.

As we hear a monotone man begin to speak - "And you will look forward to the morning when you will awaken from a good night's sleep.  Bring your ID and your #2 pencils, and arrive at your SAT testing site approximately 20 minutes before the test begins" - we go into a classroom, wherein sits Kelly, zoning out...

...Brenda, looking attentive and gorgeous...

...David, with the jump scare in follicle form, Steve's hair, behind him...

...and as David leans over, there's Donna.  David whines re the arrive at your SAT testing site approximately 20 minutes before the test begins, "Why? So we can worry for an extra 20 minutes?" but Donna informs her incredibly stupid boyfriend, "No, so you don't have to worry about being late on top of everything else."

Steve, who only ever seems to butt himself into conversations, I assume because no one in their right mind wants to organically start one up with him, tilts forward and dispenses with the insults, as is his wont: "Relax, Eraserhead, you're a junior.  Come on, it's a piece of cake." I don't know if the "Eraserhead" is a slight about the shape of David's coiffure, but if so: THAT IS RICH.

The odd proctor/instructor man then provides them with his cultist mantra for the day of their testing: "Simply breath and bring yourself back to the sound of my voice saying, SDSM.  Scan, discard, select, move on.  Scan, discard, select, move on." This guy and his spooky, monotonous voice absolutely went on to form a Heaven's Gate-esque super-sect after this.

Lobby.  These hot broads.  Each dress is a dreamboat, then and now.

As they enter the area, this woman (whose name we soon learn is Beth) pops up from a chair with her Early '90s' Business Bitch dress suit and cute hair, cheerfully asking, "Excuse me, we're from KTMB TV.  Would any of you be willing to talk to us about the pressure you're feeling getting ready for college entrance exams?" We see the goatee with a cameraman attached stand up behind her.

The gals, looking like they would've been my favorite '90s' girls' group, exchange looks and sheepish smiles.

A while later, Steve enters the lobby, standing next to Kelly and asking, "What's goin' on?" She tells him, "Oh, just the local news"...

...and over to Brenda, standing front-of-camera, being interviewed by Beth.

BUT.  Steve spots ~sOmEtHiNg~ is amiss...

...which is an equipment bag with a logo on it that reads BACK STORY...

...and that's enough to set.  Steve.  OFF: "The hell it is!"

Angry Synth Drummage start up as he charges toward the filming, aggressively yanking the mic from Beth's hand, which is just a fantastic way to approach a woman, let me tell you.  Beth demands, "Can I have my mic back, please?"

And Brenda is scandalized: "Steve! What are you doing?"

Steve and The Very Hungry Caterpillar sitting atop his head have some seething to do: "Don't you know who these people are, Brenda? Did you ever hear of a sleazy tv show called Back Story? It's a junkathon news magazine that goes out of its way to ruin people's lives on national tv." Beth insists that's not the case, but ol' Mommy Issues over here sees it differently: "What about the story you ran on Samantha Sanders? That was a hatchet job if ever I've seen a hatchet job." Why were we robbed of seeing at least a CLIP of The BACK STORY of Samantha Sanders? I bet it mostly involved her voicing sheer terror over the advancing crimescape mullet growing out of her recently adopted infant son's head.

Kelly rushes up to whisk Steve away with, "Let's just get outta here."

David and Donna follow suit, him saying, "Come on, man, don't waste your breath," and Donna adding a sassy, "Really," capped with a filthy look thrown in Beth's direction.

Speaking of, she requests her mic back once more and Steve complies, but with a lovely side salad of a potential threat of violence: "Next time I'll break it.  And your camera, too."

After the towheads + DJ Dave exit, Brenda explains to Beth, "Samantha Sanders is his mom.  He's very protective of her." Beth understands, then wishes Brenda good luck on her SATs.  Don't worry: Beth will be back in a few minutes to be yet another fully grown-ass adult who inappropriately interacts with a minor on this show.  What fun.

Part 4 of Season 3, Episode 7: A Song of Myself - Things are going great. Except that they're not. So let's discuss 1992 teen soap opera dramzzz while the world burns.

Missed Part 1? Well, here you go.  Bypassed Part 2 because you've been a little too preoccupied re: the fall of democracy? Same; totally understandable; and you can catch up here whenever you need a moment of reprieve from coordinating next steps after the insurrection has been declared.  Sidestepped Part 3? Lucky! Because it was a big fat snooze, but if you must: have at it.  And now, onward to Part 4.

Another day? The same day? Who knows.

Steve descends the stairs...

...and spots this scene playing out below: three cartoonish goons tossing Herbert's briefcase back and forth as he stands helplessly in the middle of them, trying in vain to get it back.  One of the goons? Oh, just Tony Miller.  You know: the blood-thirsty, anabolic steroid-abusing menace from last season, who will NON-SPOILER escort Brenda to the prom at the end of this season and NO ONE - not her brother, none of her friends, zero - will have a problem with it, like, good luck, Bren! Hope he doesn't throw you up against a wall in a juiced-up fit of rage.

But that's a rant for another time.  Steve shakes his head and approaches, miraculously coming to Herbert's sort of? rescue?

After he asks, "What's goin' on?" Tony smirks and tosses the briefcase his way, calling their bullying merely "a little healthy hazing." You know a fraternity currently on academic restriction hates to see this guy coming next fall.

Steve catches the case and hands it back to Herbert...

...and the three 32-year-old men post up and shoot Steve their nearest approximation of "mean-mugging" as Tony demands, "What's your problem, Sanders?" Maybe it's the fact that you've violently thrown him up against a chain link fence within the last seven months? Just a thought.

Steve informs these clods, "You can pick on all the freshmen you want, just not my freshmen, okay?" How...nice? But also, poor Herbert, being claimed by Steve "Continental Cut" Sanders in such a way.

After Herbert thanks Steve followed with a "sir," the meatheads chortle in their brain-dead way, and then they're off, probably to go score some rohypnol for their ruckus Friday evenings ahead.  Brenda's a lucky, lucky lady.

Steve turns back to Herbert and scolds, "You really are a nerd, aren't you? Don't call me 'sir'."

But Herbert gives it right back: "Fine.  As long as you don't call me 'Hubert'."

A laughing Steve takes that to mean that he can inappropriately grab Herbert around the upper torso and lead him away and all of these people need to take a crash course in personal space and physical boundaries.