Season 2, Episode 20: A Competitive Edge - Steve's Back To Being A Complete Dildo. Show Of Hands Of Those Of You Who Are Surprised? Zero? Zero Hands? That's What I Thought.

In which fucking Steve, man.  Just...what a blight upon mankind and his friends and curly hair everywhere.

So we start with approximately 87 hours of track and field events in slow-mo.  First up is this guy doing the long? jump? And panting.  And grunting.  Also presented in slow-motion.

And then this different guy lands in the sand pit thing or whatever, with a bunch of Randos watching from the sidelines.  All of this is nearly as fascinating as the early-episode hockey antics we were subjected to during "Fire and Ice."

High jump.  More grunting.

These people run around the track, huffing and puffing and some are wearing Spandex bike shorts, which was required of anyone participating in a physical activity in the early '90s.  Or by girls like me who badly wanted to be their middle school's Clarissa Darling or Kelly Kapowski and failing miserably on all counts.

A baton is passed.  My nose begins to bleed because I've snorted a bunch of methamphetamine in a desperate attempt to stay awake.

This 37-year-old man prepares a shot put.  We'll be dealing with this piece of shit's smug face more in a few minutes.  Anyway, he - SHOCK - grunts and throws the shot.

Steve.  Stretching.  In one of his trusty Forever 21 clearance rack racer-back tanks.  Which provides just a hint of a view of his right nipple.  Thanks for that, Steve.

There's a gun shot, unfortunately not directed toward Steve's hair.  It was actually a starting gun for these FUCKING GROWN MEN, like, straight-up 30-something-dudes, to start their hurdle race.

Then we get this shot of an old-school stop watch being stopped or started and we see that it belongs to...

...This Guy! You know, the guy in "The Next Fifty Years" where Dead Scott dead-Scotted himself into that great big dude ranch in the sky? Mr. Chapman! Or, Chappie, as I like to call him (no, I don't, but it stays for the remainder of the recap).

Here's a guy pole vaulting and can you guess what he's doing while vaulting? Can you???

Run a knife across my throat.

Season 2, Episode 19: Fire And Ice - I Will Deduce From This Title That Brandon Dates Another Emerging Arsonist Who Also Sculpts Ice? On The Side? Am I Even Close? Even Though I Already Know What The Title Refers To, Given That I've Seen This One Approximately 317 x 1,000 Times?

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Season 2, Episode 18: Walsh Family Christmas - Please Don't Make Me.

In which it's February and I'm writing about Christmas.  This was like the least fun thing ever.  And that includes the time I was hit by a car and left for dead by the side of the rode and then mauled by a pack of rabid coyotes.  And none of that ever happened but I'm pretty sure it would be a more enjoyable experience than anything having to do with this episode.

We open on this sign that says "New Mexico - Land of Enchantment." I've only ever driven through New Mexico (quickly), but never found it particularly enchanting.  Also, this music that you'd expect to hear on the soundtrack to Walker, Texas Ranger, plays in the background.  There's no other way I can describe it.

This bus rolls past the sign and since we unfortunately had to sit through the previous episode, we can be pretty safe in our assumption that this bus holds the fluff-headed dink we've all come to sort of grudgingly accept, one Steve "The Steve SAUNders Special" Sanders.

Sure enough, as the bus comes to a stop in front of some shabby building, we see Mr. Sanders' mullet peering out of his open window.  I'm certain that all of the other passengers really appreciate the open window, given that it's probably, like, -13 degrees there in December.  My takeaway from this is that everyone from Los Angeles is a hideously-coiffed asshole.

Steve descends the steps of the bus, saying, "Sure is cold here," like, perhaps, then, you moldy q-tip, you shouldn't have had your window open.  He's followed off of the bus by a teenage-ish girl of indeterminate race, which is I guess supposed to tell us that Steve is not a racist.  A terrible person in many, many ways, including the hairdo and clothing departments, but decidedly not a racist.  Anyway, Girl (we never learn her name because of course she doesn't matter) says, "If we're lucky, maybe we'll have a white Christmas."

Steve calls the idea "kind of neat," and then Girl can't beat it the fuck away from him fast enough, lying, "It was fun traveling with you," and then confirming our theory that Steve is a self-absorbed garbage person, when, after he thanks her for listening to him, says, "What else was I gonna do for 16 hours?" They have a laugh over that one, although I'm assuming her laughter was a means of covering up her tears, she wishes him good luck on finding his bio-mom, then sees her mom and thanks her lucky stars that any interaction with this wool-headed douche is over.  Peace out Mexican-Maybe-Some-Kind-Of-Native-American Girl.  We really hardly knew ye.

So as this really, really terrible, like, diarrhea-heavy version of "O Little Town of Bethlehem" starts playing in the background, Steve flings his bag over his shoulder and starts hoofing it down the street like fucking Joe Buck or something.

Season 2, Episode 17: Chuckie's Back - Sick And Tired Of Christmas-Related Everything At This Point? Oh. Well. This is Awkward. My Timing On These Is Flawless As Always.

In which Steve adopts a child television actor named Bucky and Donna and David do the worm at a dance something-something.  I don't know.  You should probably read ahead to find out if either of those things are true.

As is the tradition, we open with a Sweet Ghee-tar Lick and a pan-down to the front of West Beverly.

Obligatory Rando Extras' shots...

...including one of this Urkel/Dwayne Wayne-hybrid dude wearing a suit and tie and talking into a phone that's cord is coming out of a briefcase?  Is this real life???

We continue with shots of things such as the Mushroom-Headed Band Loser as David's pipsqueaky voice chimes in over the P.A. system, to the detriment of everyone's ear drums: "Yo, West Beverly.  Don't forget West Beverly and Beverly get together this Friday for the annual Winter Dance starting at 8 p.m. in the West Beverly gym.  Be there." How sucky.  No, I don't mean David's voice, even though yes, it is sucky, but the "suck" I'm referring to is the fact that West Bev has to share a dance with another school.  Their rival, no less.  I only care because I'm a total life failure.

Into the hallway, we have Donna (wearing something very beige and bland and sleep-inducing), Kelly (wearing a cute, if not slightly dated-looking shirt) and Brenda (looking okay in a so-so blazer and a headband I would like to burn right off her gorgeous head of hair) walking through a doorway as some garland falls from above, Kelly expositing, "God, I'll be glad when finals are over." Donna doesn't know how the school can expect them to take finals, "when we have Christmas shopping to do." Ahh, Ye Olde Timey days before internet shopping.

They talk some more about finals before moving the conversation over to what to wear to the Winter Dance as they congregate at Donna's locker.  Kelly suggests to Donna, "Why don't you wear a big sign that says, 'I'm here with David Silver, but I'm really still available.'" Donna's not in the mood to be reminded of her God-awful taste in dudes and she tells Kelly, "We are just friends," and then no one believes her because her pants are currently on fire.  Also: Kelly needs to give me her bag like, now.

Over to Brandon Cool Guy-leaning against the staircase banister as Steve comes down and erotically breathes into his ear, "Big, big, big, big dance Friday night."

And then, cripes, after Steve asks if he's going to the dance, Brandon delves into his ever-so-tired rhetoric of I Don't Dance, even though we've all been subjected to...well, how many times must I remind you:

Yeah.  And maybe, then, it's not so much that Brandon Won't Dance; it's that he was banned by society from dancing ever, ever, ever again following the above display which clearly signified End Of Days.

Steve informs his elfin friend that, "It's just called a dance! You don't actually have to dance," and then he does this:

Like sort of shimmies and it was kind of funny and WHO AM I AND WHAT HAVE I BECOME.  I can feel myself developing a soft spot for Steve and MAKE IT STOP.

Anyway, Steve informs Brandon that he was thinking of asking Kelly to the dance and that, "I think she deserves another chance." Yes! Yes! Say more things like that! Those kinds of things do wonders for my I Hate Steve Sanders life motto.  Brandon's all, "You're giving her another chance? Isn't she the one who broke up with you?" Steve, deluded as usual: "Yeah.  But I forgave her."

Season 2, Episode 16: My Desperate Valentine - The USS Crazy Town Has Pulled Into Port, And By That I Mean "Emily Is One Crazy Bitch."

In which Emily loses her ever-loving mind.  Over Brandon.  Yeah.  She's clearly a lunatic.

"Rockin'" music starts up as we open on West Bev, exterior.  Our friend Neon-&-Black Backpack is present and accounted for, this time with Joe E. Tata's name splayed across his ass, in some kind of early prototype of the Juicy Couture velour tracksuit pants.

After a thousandtine exterior shots of a bunch of Nobody Extras wandering around campus, we eventually wind up inside, to this hallway, where Emily and her plaid pajama pants and odd vest she clearly stole from a kids' vintage cowboy costume, stops and sees...

...this guy.  Who is clearly Not Brandon.  But for some reason she thinks it's Brandon.  Even though I could tell you just by looking at the back of him that this is definitely Not Brandon, seeing as this guy's got a good 6 inches on Brandon (I kid, I kid - but not really) and that's totally not Brandon's hair.  And this guy doesn't emit an overwhelming fetor of smug, either, so that's actually all the proof I need.

So because Brandon broke up with her in the previous episode, she decides that she's now going to strangle him to death, which you can see here.  And which I'm all for.  Unfortunately, none of that is true.  She just goes up to Not Brandon and starts giving him what I presume she thinks is a Sexy Massage that will erase the memory of her drugging him to Jesus and then acting like it wasn't a big deal in the slightest.

Oh! But it turns out she was giving so fucking obviously Not Brandon the rubdown, and not the Brandon we've all come to know and loathe and wish was, if not dead, then at least irrevocably muted.  Emily, embarrassed, says, "This is Brandon's locker." Not Brandon, clearly not knowing what he's saying, says, "Not anymore.  They just assigned it to me.  But, uh, I can be Brandon if you want." Nobody wants that, dude.  Nobody.