Season 2, Episode 26: Things to Do on a Rainy Day - Well, this is frightening.

 An unwanted relocation.  Divorce.  Death.  Some of the worst humans I've ever encountered.  But also: a couple of the best.  And finally, FINALLY: a return to the (adopted-by-me) Mother Land (i.e. LA) by year's end.  I think I'm ready now.  Shall we dive in, 157 months since the last time I did this thing? Sure.  DO PEOPLE EVEN READ BLOGS ANYMORE? Eh.

Hey.  It's the Color Me Badd episode.  Is anyone even remotely excited about this?  I was not a Color Me Badder (oof).  Did those people exist, other than one Donna Martin, a fictional television character? Were they not, like, the O-Town of the late-'80s/early-'90s Boy Band Era? Do I think about this a lot, even when not writing about a 30-year-old episode of television wherein they guest star? I do.  ANYWAY, interwoven into the CMB storyline is FELICE MARTIN IS A CHEATING WHORE.  Our Felice would NEVER.  Except she totally would and does.  And then there's some idiotic plot involving Steve (so you already know it's idiotic) and Brandon and Dylan and AHHHHHHNdrea and a stripper and high jinks most certainly ensue and then we all die a little bit more on the insides.  Here we go.

Informative Credits get right down to it.  They're singing the song that will never not be in my head after recapping this thing, the embarrassingly titled, "I Adore Mi Amor" (which I actually, truly thought until transcribing this episode was called "Dream On").  

Katherine Cannon's name gets dragged into this mess, appearing over this shot of Not Kenny G, enragingly crooning about having to stay.  Where? We never find out, and also no one cares.

From behind we see that THAT MAN IS WEARING OVERALL CULOTTES LIGHT THEM ON FIRE.  He should fucking walk himself into the sea.  IT'S RIGHT THERE SIR.

But of course said overall culottes have one strap down.  We just couldn't help ourselves.  The guy on the right with his blow out and tremendously odd posing and Speed Stick gelled pit hair was clearly CMB's answer to George Michael.  But, like, Photocopy of a Photocopy George Michael.  Good bob, though.

Help me understand, Darren Star.

As the group comes upon a treasure chest (? I don't know; the '90s were one, long fever dream) we fade out to the video being played on a TV screen at WHERE THE FUCK ELSE the Peach Pit.  Oh, and I was really looking forward to giving my fingies a HIIT workout this episode by furiously diatribing about Nat and his spooky preoccupation with this group of teenagers, but alas, this is a Nat-less endeavor.  Also: the only television set I recall ever being in the Peach Pit was the BEHEMOTH karaoke one that killed 9 and injured 17 in one fell tumble, from the "Cardio Funk" episode.  Anyway.

As the camera pans down to a Partial Gang, we hear Brenda chime in with ALL THE LIES: "It's the greatest video in the history of videos." Oh, Brenda.  That title actually belongs to "November Rain", solely because of Stephanie Seymour’s wedding dress.  Donna excitedly asks, "Kelly, which one's your favorite?" Kelly advises that she doesn't "know which is which." And I gotta tell her, in about a year's time, it really won't matter.

Donna spouts off about her favorite one, who’s cuter than who (spoiler: NONE OF THEM ARE CUTE) and how she was into CMB before anyone else, and while I normally hate people who claim to have "discovered" a band or a singer, it's endearing in that early-90210 Donna type of way, so I'll allow it.  Also, Big Dave there could have easily been slotted into CMB had Mimeograph George Michael or the other Vaguely George Michael Looking One met a tragic end.  This is not a compliment.  Lastly: Brenda's so pretty.

More talk about CMB appearing the following night at the Whisky (I'm sure Jim Morrison and Alice Cooper and Axl Rose and all of the other countless classic bands and groups and singers who performed on that hallowed Whisky stage once upon a time would be so proud to know what came after them) and watching it on Pay-Per-View or BETTER YET, world famous DJ David "Grand Master Casey MOTHER-FUCKING Kasem" Silver calling down to the club and being able to get comped tickets, because opportunities to attend major entertainment events fall into his garishly be-pantsed lap every, single day.

Kelly and Brenda, along with the rest of humanity, doubt him, but he claims, with not an ounce of irony, that because he's a HIGH SCHOOL DISC JOCKEY, "they rub my back, I rub theirs." Kelly speaks for us all and replies with this look and a "David, please, I'm trying to eat." She does not subsequently projectile vomit everything she's consumed today all over her keyboard like I just did, however. 

 

A rainy Beverly Hills' street.

Inside the Martin Manor living room, an actual radio DJ who works for an actual radio station announces, "We're looking for caller number 27!" in their CMB-at-the-Whisky ticket giveaway.  Brenda walks in with a cordless phone and a...regular? phone? WHAT DID WE CALL PHONES WITH CORDS.  She explains, "So dial now and then hang up, and then when you hear the signal, you press redial and we're already ahead of the game." Also, let me just note that all of the girls look fantastic here: Brenda in a black ensemble - bodysuit and jeans; Kelly in a floral babydoll I would eat glass to own, and, while probably an unpopular opinion, Donna in her diamond-patterned sweater with micro-shorts (we'll get to those, as we will the red moto jacket I've wept for since this episode aired).

Kelly is not into the radio contest hoopla, and, much like me as a 41-year-old, i.e. Steve's age, suggests that they just watch the concert from home.  Kelly is fast becoming the most relatable and my favorite character this episode.

Enter FELICE, donning a silken-esque blazer/suit deal with buttons down the front for easy removal, which, as we'll soon see, is a must-have for her on this particular day.  She announces, "I'm going to get plowed by a man who is not your father another one of those marathon dick-downs planning meetings for my vagina because I deserve a good roll in the hay and your cuck of a dad simply cannot meet my needs the hospital charity.  For all I know this other man's penis which is not your father's it could go deep inside of me, repeatedly well into the night."

The girls have no fucks to give about anything Felice is saying, as they've been given their cue to dial into the radio station for the tickets.  Felice scolds Donna, who tells her about CMB at the Whisky and their plans to attend the show.

As she pulls on Jem's favorite rain slicker, Felice voices her disgust: "I don't want you hanging around the Sunset Strip on a Saturday night.  Don't you think that's a little seedy?" This woman fully voted for Trump and I don't want to talk about it.

After Felice flounces off, Brenda breaks the news that they didn't win the tickets; Donna is forlorn and says, "Thanks a lot, Mom." You'll be thanking her for a lot more, including, unquestionably, a lifetime of weekly therapy sessions by episode's end, sister.

More rain, in case you forgot the title of the episode.

This dildo...

...and this other dildo toss a grapefruit back and forth and discuss different activities they could do and my word, Steve's hair is truly on its way to becoming the masterpiece Power Mullet we all know and are horrified by as we head into the third season of the show.  That labradoodle pelt in bloom at the back of his head is the stuff that night terrors are made of.  (And *sob* I still have no words for the loss of Luke Perry.  It's unfathomable to know that this person is no longer living and breathing on this earth.  Gah.)

Jim and Cindy (who's wearing a stylish navy trench coat I need in my closet like, now) enter for a third of their approximate 2 minutes of screen time this episode.  They're off to "the museum for a lecture on Shaker furniture, followed by an authentic Shaker lunch...followed by an afternoon of Shaker music." Jim acts put upon, as if Cindy's forcing him into it, and Jim should, firstly: be kissing the ground Cindy walks on each and everyday; secondly: be thankful that anyone wants to hang out with his bean-counting ass; thirdly: fuck all the way the fuck off; and fourthly: have I mentioned that I Hate Jim this episode as it's yet another showcase for his misogyny and hypocritical Boyz Club bullshit and only amplifies the GLARING double-standards of his treatment of his son versus his treatment of his daughter and which is ESPECIALLY RICH in light of the next 5-7 episodes of the series.  In conclusion: eat so many dicks, Jim (or the writers responsible for the Jim character's all-around fuckery).

I'M BORED THIS IS BORING AND THIS STORYLINE HASN'T EVEN STARTED YET.  They're going to get a stripper.  The end? No? *SIIIIIIIIIIGH* I mean, that is kind of it as far as this scene goes.  Although to convince the others to hire the stripper, Steve tells them that he "happen[ed] to have gone to two of my cousins' bachelor parties this year.  And they were all world, I might add," because there's nothing like letting a CHILD attend a bachelor party.  Because even though Ian Ziering looks 41 here, the character of Steve is not and inviting a 16/17-year-old to a bachelor party is disgusting on a variety of levels.  Especially one with a rotting albino kale salad waterfalling off his cranium.

Supes cute return to the Manor of Martin where the girls are painting their nails.  A moment that collapses upon itself when...

Yeah.

He informs them that CMB's manager is a patient (and probably fellow orgy-member) of his debased father's and that Mel told David said manager is staying at WHERE THE FUCK ELSE the Bel Age.  David wants them to go to the hotel, I guess to try to catch a glimpse of the group, and while Old Lady me is with Kelly and thinks that sounds just dreadful, I'm sure High School me would've been on board.  You know, if, like, Hootie and the Blowfish had been staying at the Denver Best Western.

  

Cut to: this hellfire.  Absolutely not.

THE RAINCOATS THIS EPISODE ARE GLORIOUS.  I wish it rained more in LA.  Anyway, Kelly snarks that everyone jammed under that awning must have an "in" like Big D's.

AND THEN: a laughably tacky limo rolls by.  Squeals from the crowd fill the air.

They bust down the barricades and push past the security guards.  For Color Me Badd.  I don't even think they were worth all the fuss in 1992.

Seriously, Poncho: being trampled to death in an attempt to protect CMB is like, the least boss way to peace out, ever.

And this poor bastard.  Working as Color Me Badd's bodyguard and having to wear that jacket with their name emblazoned akimbo, but that actually just looks like the In Living Color title sequence mouth-sprayed throw-up all over it? Dude.    

The quad manages to sneak past the rest of the group and security detail, but get blocked by this other security man/hotel guardsman? who most certainly isn't getting paid enough to deal with this nonsense.

They have a sidebar, wherein David wants to get a room in the hotel (remember, kids: this is Beverly Hills! Suspend your disbelief!), Kelly wants to leave, and Brenda doesn't think David's plan will work.  David's all, "Did I not know where they were?" to which Brenda responds with one of my favorite lines of the series: "Yes, you and the population of the Sherman Oaks Galleria." I was obsessed with this sentence as a child (because...I've always been pathetic? I don't know), and desperately wanted to go there.  When living in LA previously, I never made the trip.  BUT THAT'S WHAT SECOND CHANCES ARE FOR.  Sherman Oaks Galleria, here I come! Only probably not.  Because I actually hate malls now, and crowds, humans in general, terrible mall lighting, etc., etc.

Donna thanks David for trying on her behalf, but doubts that his plan is going to work.  Smugly, like, BRANDON Smugly Stylez, David says, "Oh, yeah? Wait right here," and heads back to the lobby entrance, hopefully to be body-slammed by the security man and/or tased by the bodyguard-type in his CMB x Looney Tunes jacket that he was forced to purchase from Wilsons Leather.

HoW.  Steve does a solo conga line down the stairs and into the living room PUT A BULLET IN MY HEAD...

...and then KNEELS and starts MOVING FURNITURE??!???!? Dylan, weary as we all are with having to deal with Steve, asks, "Sanders, what are you doing?" Steve says he's clearing space for Brandy, the stripper, to work.  You guys? I really, really don't know.

Brandon enters and I guess he's grown a conscience since he defiled the HoW during his single-episode arc as a binge drinker WHO ALMOST KILLED A MAN, or he forgot about it, as anyone would if they were never held accountable for any of their misdeeds in life, because he tells the other two, "I don't know, ya know.  This is my parents' house.  She's supposed to do her thing right here where my mom aerobicizes." Oh, yeah, and remember when, in true pig-dog fashion, he sexed up his ex-girlfriend in the room right next to his parents' and sister's as they slept? A prince of a guy.

The doorbell rings, Brandon goes to answer it, and instead of finding Brandy the Stripper, he finds the human equivalent of a wet blanket wrapped around a blocked cock, AHHHHHHNdrea, standing on the porch in her MEGA DORK Gorton's fisherman finest.

Why is AHHHHHHHHHHHHNdrea there? you might be asking yourself, except, OF COURSE YOU'RE NOT, because you live in the world and are painfully aware that the only things this bitch is capable of talking about are comparisons between her attending a school outside of her assigned district and her grandmother harrowingly escaping the Nazi regime; and, say it with me now, you know the words: THE MOTHER-FUCKING BLAZE: "I got this whole grab bag of ideas for the paper, and I knew today would be a perfect day to impose on your life like the blood-sucking parasite attached to an albatross bound by an anchor that I am brainstorm since it's storming outside.  Get it?" I hate her, I hate her so hard. 

Piano music in the key of "Wacky" plays over AHHHHHHHNdrea tactlessly shoving her rain gear at Brandon with a, "Here," and then shaking out the musty, bedraggled poodle sleeping atop her head.  Have I mentioned that I hate her, I hate her so hard? Oh, just, like, two sentences ago? I see.

Back to the Bel Age.  I am digging on the Big '90's Girl Group Energy here.  They look amazing.

Kelly rags on another girl across the way as a fashion "don't," but I quite like the yellow trench, and she's super cute, sans her odd BERET and the feather muffler deal.  Our Kelly: the poster child for Women Supporting Women.

So of course David, a 16-year-old, managed to get a room, and hands each of the gals a key, which they all then decide to haughtily shake in the doorman's face as they walk by him.  They showed him! You know: the guy who probably makes minimum wage and has to drive an hour-and-a-half to and from work everyday, only to have to deal with rich, entitled asshole children and the rich, entitled asshole adults who bore them.  Yeah, him.

Through the lobby they go, with David explaining, "It's so easy.  You just look 'em straight in the eye and you tell them you want a suite with a view, and ask if there's any special rates that apply." Brenda queries, "Don't you have to be 21?" and, baby girl, are you new? Don't you recall your boyfriend managing to score a room for your deflowerment last season?

Just then...

WUH-OH.  A probably first-round-post-coitus Felice exits the elevator, questioning Donna's presence in the hotel, which the young Martin explains away with, "David and his father have a room here.  Their house is being fumigated, so, they, uh, checked into the hotel for the nigh...and that's why they have a room here." Felice very obviously lies in kind and says that her Fuck Fest charity what-have-you is also taking place at the Bel Age, which, considering every event ever on this show takes place at the Bel Age, it's not unbelievable.

Additional rambling excuses from both sides follow, and finally Felice, having "[broken] for lunch" from her day of penile injections meetings, walks away.  Donna seems to sense that there is indeed something rotten in the State of Denmark and gives her mother's receding figure this mien of all the suspicions.

At HoW, Steve calls Brandy's number in an attempt to cancel her nude appearance there later in the day, because AHHHHHHNdrea ruins everything.  Unfortunately, he gets her answering machine and realizes that she must already be in transit and because this episode takes place in the Olden Days, there's no pager to page or cell phone to call and you were basically just screwed, like, all the time and I truly wonder how we survived.

The boys then try to give AHHHHHHHNdrea the Ol' Heave-Ho, suggesting a tour of the La Brea Tar Pits (sure!), but because she's a totally self-involved buzzkill hellbent on killjoying even the most celebratory of occasions (e.g. Christmas, birthdays, Carnaval, probably), it doesn't work.

And also because AHHHHHNdrea's the World's Worst Houseguest, she answers the door of the home that's not her own after the bell rings as she's coming back from the kitchen, and of course it's Brandy (in another rad trench; seriously, connect me with whomever scored these sick coats...30 years ago), who, even in the Before Times, stands ENTIRELY TOO CLOSE to AHHHHHHNdrea's grill.  And, much like AHHHHHHNdrea, she clearly lacks even those most basic of manners and barges into the foyer without being formally invited.  And then this poor, poor actress has the great misfortune of having to utter the following: "So, are you ready to rock and roll?" No, Brandy.  I am not, nor will I ever be.

Dylan, Brandon and Steve come a-runnin' from the living room, and remember those high jinks I mentioned before? Well, they certainly ensue here (no, they don't), as: 1) they trick AHHHHHHNdrea into believing Brandy is Cindy's distant niece; 2) Brandy, for whatever reason, goes along with it, like she doesn't have anything better to do or loads of money to make elsewhere; 3) when she goes to take off her coat, the guys shout "NO!" in unison because they're morons who believe strippers arrive to their gigs already naked beneath their outerwear; and 4) BRANDY'S DRESS IS VERY GOOD.  Also, this actress (Michelle Nicastro, who passed away in 2010 at the age of 50 because cancer's a piece of smegma attached to a dingleberry that hangs from the anus of life) always reminds me of Nancy Valen, the actress who played the school nurse who also behaved completely inappropriately with a bunch of high school kids in the "From Nurse to Worse" episode of Saved by the Bell (as well as Joey's date, who brings Janice back into Chandler's life, in the Season 1 episode, "The One with the Candy Hearts" of Friends).  What does any of this have to do with anything, you fucking loser? - you, I'm assuming.  Why am I even here? - also you.

Steve takes Brandy's coat from her to hang up and proceeds to do this instead and all of these people are just the worst.

Back at the Bel Age DONNA'S JACKET IS MY LOVER.  And I truly adore her diamond-print, knit hot pants, a sentence I never thought I would type, ever.  Kelly emerges from the bathroom in a complimentary robe, Brenda peruses the room service menu, Donna doubts the endeavor altogether, and David demands that everyone FOCUS, god damnit.  THIS IS COLOR ME BADD, for fuck's sake: one of the most relevant and provocative groups of our time (© Benjamin, he of Bananas Walsh fame).  Anyway, as David declares this gaudy room their "base camp"...

...WHY IS THAT RAILING Brenda gets on the horn to the hotel operator and requests, "Bryan Abrams [one of the ersatz George Michaels], please; he's in Color Me Badd." Of course the operator doesn't give him up, and Worldly David Silver informs her that "we have to be smart about this.  They always register under aliases." Oh, please, tell me more, Brian Epstein!

David grabs the receiver, calls back down to the operator and asks for CMB's manager, Freddy Kramer (he of Mel Silver's Eyes Wide Shut-stylez collective - at least in the backstory I've created he is).  The operator miraculously connects David and his Not Ready for Puberty Time voice to Freddy's room, who picks up and then immediately hangs up upon hearing the utterings of a complete dildo, i.e. David.

And now it's high time for some Lobby Shenanigans! As the gang decides to hunt down a CMB stooge-type to stalk! First up: Donna peering over the top of a copy of Architecture Today...

...Brenda, looking smoking hot while peeking out from behind a corner...

...and Kelly (also looking pretty damn fly in her sunglasses which are currently all the rage amongst Gen Z-types and MAKE IT STOP, MAKE IT STOP RIGHT NOW), zeroing in on this silken-bombered stud and his seemingly endless supply of PASSes and NAMETAGS and EMBROIDERY.  

They follow him to the elevator bank, and determine from the floor indicator that he's headed to the penthouse.  They hop in another car, but! Said penthouse is locked! 

This leads to a highly relatable moment of deep-seated hatred of David from the girls...

...as well as Underbelly of the Hotel Shenanigans...

...Locked Service Elevator Shenanigans...

...Kelly Thieving Elevator Keys from a Maid's Cart Shenanigans...

...David/Brenda Back Stairwell Shenanigans ...

...Creepy Loading Dock Rain Shenanigans...

...and FUCKING FINALLY the Shenanigans we've all been waiting for:

YIKES.

The moment Donna's stomach fell out of her asshole.

The moment my stomach fell out of my asshole.

I mean...

Yick.  Also: are they just getting started? Or did they fuck, then get fully dressed? He's seemingly pulling her back in for a spermatic sesh; why aren't they wearing robes? Her blazer is straight buttoned all the way up, not a hair out of place.  Either this guy is really bad at boot-knocking, or they've only second-based it up until this point, and are now ready to rub raw crotches following their in-room meal.  That also begs the question: was Felice post-bone earlier in the episode? Where was she going? To pick up more condoms? Lube? Better taste, because this douche is absolutely not the one?

My thoughts exactly.

Felice's thing to do on a rainy day? Commit adultery.

Donna's immediate reaction to discovering Felice's roaming genitalia is to head back to the kids' room (not to make sick in the toilet, as I would have) and call her dad at his conference-whatever to fink on her mom.  Daddy Martin is unavailable, however, so she weepily leaves a message for him to call her back.

Fuuuuuuuck.  HoW.  Steve thinks Brandy likes him, like her whole fucking job isn't just pretending to be hot for a bunch of troglodytes like him.

In the LRoW, Brandy, RUN GIRL RUUUUUUUUUN.  She and AHHHHNdrea bond, with AHHHHHHHHNdrea miraculously not droning on about The Blaze or high school cafeteria exposés or diminishing other's experiences about the genocide of their population, but rather, asking Brandy about her studies (Masters in social work) at UCLA.  Once again, I'm real, real bored.

Back here: Kelly has arrived! On the CMB floor! Hurray?

She runs into Feather Boa, who schools her on Groupie-ing 101, then bolts when a cop walks by.  She's a terrible actress but her lipstick is good.  

Kelly winds up in this vending machine nook and lends a dollar to this bump-on-a-log in human form, Bryan Abrams, giving Jim a run for his Magnum, P.I.-chested money.  He tells Kelly, "I was thinking you might like a pass," to their shitty show, and probably to his erection, and all I have to say is: careful, buddy - your statutory rape is showing.  

And then it shows even more after Kelly asks for three additional passes for her friends and he escorts her back to CMB's room.  Because that's not disturbing in every conceivable way.

Brenda and David arrive, soaked, back at base camp, bickering about being caught out in the rain and David being a complete cretin (I'm paraphrasing).  Donna sits gloomily on the bed, clutching a pillow and no doubt imagining her mother being bent over the odd railing in her own suite by a man who is not her father.  Brenda asks after Kelly, with Donna advising, "Last time I saw her, she was in the elevator on her way up to see the band." 

As an aside: why is David's t-shirt?

Donna attempts to nudge everyone towards peacing the fuck out of this den of iniquity, but Brenda and David refuse to give up on her behalf.  While looking like the cover of a 1990's YA romance novel, Donna gives them the most half-hearted, "Yeah...thanks," ever recorded, as David sits atop the dresser and hoiks up his filthy, Los Angeles rain-drenched feet to join him because he's a fucking degenerate.

YOINKS.  Look, I know at the time this aired, I didn't give a moment's thought to Kelly, a teenage girl, being alone in a hotel room with a popular singing group of adult man-types.  And I realize this scene is supposed to act as a getting-to-know Color Me Badd (which...I'm good, thanks)/inside baseball look at their lives as Famous People.  But: this is agonizing.  None of these dudes can act (which, that's fine; they're singers, not thespians) and watching this is akin to BEING REALLY UNCOMFORTABLE FOR THE LOVE OF DOLLY LET IT END.  And added to that discomfort is that, I repeat: Kelly is 17-years old and was invited back to these grown-ass men's hotel room.  And yes, I understand this is a television show and it's innocent blah blah blah, and yes, I realize things flew back in the day that wouldn't fly today, but some of these storylines are difficult not to view through my 2021 Everything Is FUCKED Trifocal Transition Lenses.  Sorry.  If you'll excuse me, I'll be over here conferring with AHHHHHHNdrea on how to put a damper on the forthcoming New Year's Eve celebrations.

You know the whole "CHANDLER AND MONICA, CHANDLER AND MONICA!!!" Yeah, replace that with "DAVID'S UNBUTTONED PANTS, DAVID'S UNBUTTONED PANTS!!!" and you're pretty much where I'm at right now.  My eyes, indeed.

After Brenda ponders if Kelly "got trapped somewhere" - like, in a hotel room with a bunch of men who shouldn't be hanging with a girl in her teens, perhaps? - Donna frantically pushes forward with her agenda to get allllllllll the way out of the Bel Age, Brenda and David could not be more oblivious...

...and then Papa Martin returns his daughter's call, and whether because of her friends' presence, or a change of heart, Donna decides not to spill the adulterous, life-altering beans to her father just yet.

Once she's off the phone, Brenda asks a visibly shaken Donna, "What's wrong?" to which Donna tearily replies, "What's wrong? My mother is having an affair." Brenda, repugnantly, likely thinks back to, blechh, the whole Glen debacle (we'll regrettably circle back to that ordeal in mere moments), while David recalls the probably countless affairs of his debauched father and a steady gaggle of 20-something dental hygienists.

Snow.  JK IT'S RAIN.

WHEN WILL IT END.  Brandy's talking about having a son and her time in the Peace Corps where she met her husband, who, gag me, has been working on his first novel for the past three years called The Zen of Surfing.

WHICH OF COURSE causes our very own Johnny Utah to pop a Woodrow, but instead of a penis it's a tiny surfboard between his legs. 

AHHHHHHHHHHNdrea then decides that her day's work of being an imposing burden is over, and she takes her leave, but not before asking Brandon for Brandy's phone number so that she can inevitably exhaust yet another person in her life with her very AHHHHHHHNdreaness.

With the tiresome CHORE that is The Zuck out of the way, Brandy turns on the stereo (playing "I Wanna Sex You Up", a music video that makes for a good laugh and is also PEAK 1991) and starts to shake her groove thing...

...which Brandon and Dylan actually seem uncomfortable about...

...but OF COURSE douche bro-with-a-Brillo-pad-for-a-brain (and hairstyle!) Steve gets all into it and says things like, "Ya think a burger comes with that shake?" and "Mmm!!!" and "DESTINY!" AND THEN PURRS.  I give up.  Not just on this episode; on life.

I manage to muster up a comeback as Brandon jumps up and turns off the stereo, stopping Brandy mid-shimmy.  Mr. Morals here feels that they can't watch her strip now, seeing as they know her so well, following her midday interrogation by AHHHHHHHNdrea.  I see: strippers aren't actually Women, just Things with which to fulfill a sexual or erotic fantasy, and it's better to treat and view them as vacuous, soulless objects.  But once you get to know them in any real way, desire takes a hike and things feel icky.  Look, I'm not smart-n-stuff enough to articulate my thoughts on this kind of thing very well, but that's the gist, and yet another example of how the television shows of Yore were pretty abhorrent in their messaging about women (whether they be stay-at-home moms, strippers, business-types, prostitutes, etc. etc.) and to the women that were watching the show at home, most of whom were probably young and impressionable, as I was at the time.  Way to go, The Nineties (and yes, I'm aware that women are still treated like hot garbage, especially women of color, and we're still a long ways away from anything resembling "good" here in this crusted-gutter year of 2021).

As Brandy makes to leave OF COURSE (should that actually be the title of this blog? I use it A LOT.  Along with A LOT of CAPITALIZATION) Cindy and Jim arrive home at that moment...

...and Brandy introduces herself as "Cindy's cousin" which elicits confused looks from the Parents' Walsh, but which is explained away by Brandon thusly: "Different Cindy...Cindy Sanders.  Steve's cousin, Cindy Sanders," which is a great soap opera name, for real.  They should've made that character happen.  Anyway, all non-Walshes exit and this storyline was just so disgusting on many, many levels.  And as I promised at the top of this thing, it'll manage to get even more disgusting (and RAGE inducing) in a few minutes.

Back at the Bel Age.  David and Brenda are trying to excuse-away (i.e. gaslight) what Donna saw, saying that perhaps it was just a "friendly kiss" between Felice and Budget Gordon Gekko. 

No.

Donna insists that she knows what she saw; that she's still bleeding from her goddamn eyes because of it, for fuck's sake; that she’ll never UNsee it.  Just me? Never mind.  Anyway, she wonders what's going to become of her life after her father finds out.

David, ever-so-comforting, advises her, "Maybe your life won't change.  I mean, maybe your dad already knows.  He and your mom could have some sort of arrangement," and while true (and if it was some sort of agreement amongst consenting parties, then by all means, you do you), I'm guessing that he's actually speaking as the child of Serial Philanderer Mel Silver, DDS, who probably goes into all of his relationships pitching this exact sort of "arrangement" just so that he can pass his dick around RUN JACKIE RUUUUUUUUUN.

Time to hit the bricks.

As they're checking out, Brenda gets a call from Kelly...

...who gives us yet another classic line from this episode: " I am with the band." I'm still waiting for the day I can say this to someone.  Miraculously, she doesn't follow this up with "PLEASE HELP THESE GROWN MEN WANT TO HANG OUT WITH ME AND IT'S MAKING ME QUEASY," but rather, tells Brenda that they are "the coolest guys" (she clearly felt the need to tell a filthy lie, as said “Cool Guys” are within earshot) and that she got passes for everyone for the show at the Whisky.

Brenda gives Kelly the lowdown re Felice macking on some gross dude in front of God, her daughter, the world; Kelly says that she'll come down and leave with them, but Brenda insists she go to the show, that Donna would "kill [her] if you didn't go and report back all the details," and that she's probably not ready to talk about this trauma that has been permanently imprinted on her life and will undoubtedly affect every one of her subsequent relationships going forward quite yet.

SHOWDOWN, Lobby Stylez.  As the kids turn to leave, Felice shows up following her early-afternoon pounding.  She goes in on scolding Donna about why she's still at the hotel...

...and IT IS ON.   Donna's having NONE of that mess: "No, Mother, what are you doing here? I saw you...Room 622.  I saw you, Mom...you were laughing, and then you were kissing.  It was in the hallway!"

This is the face of: BUSTED. 

Donna flees.  As one would.

HoW.

Following their rousing day of Shaker Appreciation, Jim and Cindy partake in a raucous evening of jigsaw puzzling.  Jim and Cindy's life makes me sad.  THROW IN A BOTTLE OF WINE AT THE VERY LEAST.  Jesus.

Brenda and Donna arrive, and Donna lets Brenda tell her parents about the Martins' whole trash-dog saga that went down earlier in the day.      

Cindy tries to comfort Donna by telling her, "You don't have to figure this all out right now," to which Donna responds, "When will I? Aren't I entitled to know how long this has been going on? If my parents are getting a divorce? Who my mother's seeing? Why can't everything just be the way it was? Look at you guys.  Your family never changes."

Jim and Cindy exchange A Look, and we all know the implication: 

Oh, puke.

The doorbell rings and GUESS WHO? 1992's Mother of the Year Candidate, Illicit Affairs Division, Felice Martin! She's all phony smiles and "Is Donna here?" and "I've been expecting her."

Donna enters, Cindy exits and now it's SHOWDOWN, Foyer of Walsh Stylez.  Donna demands to know if her dad knows, and that if Felice won't tell her that she'll "ask him myself." Felice says ALL the wrong things, including, "Things happen in a marriage that are hard to understand."

On which Donna POUNCES: "I understand you, I understand what a hypocrite you are! Like when the whole condom issue came up, weren't you the one who went on and on about abstinence?! God, you wouldn't even let me go to a concert tonight, because, because, it was what, what'd you say, too seedy?" 

As Felice tells her daughter to chill the fuck out, we get a shot of those nosy ass Walshes, although, they’re essentially trapped in their own kitchen, unless they decide to slip out the side door for an evening stroll. 

But Donna doesn't care about making a scene, or being overheard: "God forbid someone might think that I'm angry! You care more about appearances, Mom, than how anyone feels.  Well, I'm angry! And I'm not gonna hide it for appearances' sake!" Go Donna.

After Felice fruitlessly requests that Donna calm down once more, Donna provides us with the OH SNAPpiest OH SNAP of all the OH SNAPS: "Just go! And I hope you and your boyfriend have a wonderful life, Felice." Felice's name should only ever be said in italics.  And it bears repeating: Go Donna. 

Donna then busts into the kitchen and declares, "I just can't deal with her anymore!" and as Brenda jumps up to embrace her friend and Cindy heads back to the front of house to handle a no doubt flattened Felice, Jim sits with his sad little pastel mug and puzzle, looking to all the world like a man who wishes he were literally anywhere else at all in this moment.

Felice recovers enough from Donna's tongue-lashing to pivot back into Fake Bitch mode upon Cindy's return.  She calls it, "one of those, you know, mother-daughter tensions," and Cindy offers for Donna to stay at the HoW for a while, until things simmer down.  Felice very genuinely tells Cindy, "You're very sweet," and then she's out, to go back to Martin Manor to, if I had to guess, fuck the pool boy, probably.

Hugs.

And then: revolting confessions.  After Cindy tells Donna that no matter what, Felice still loves her, and some other tropery about A Mother's Love For Her Children, she says that, "keeping a marriage in perfect balance, it's like walking a tightrope.  Anybody can slip," to which Donna replies, "You never slip," and HERE WE GO:

I will LEAVE.  Cindy: "Back when we first moved to Beverly Hills, I ran into a man that had once been very special to me.  But we'd gone in different directions, he, having gone the way of a complete fucking douche.  Anyway, seeing him again with my whole life changing, that old spark flared between us." Yap yap yap we know the drill she almost fucked Glen, Jim went all mano-a-mano on his ass, Glen left and we were promised we'd never have to hear about him ever, ever again.  But here we are.  Anyway, Cindy basically tells Donna that even if she had ridden Glen all the way to garden center and back, it wouldn't have caused her to stop loving her kids.  Although she should've really stopped loving Brandon a long time ago.  For an assortment of reasons.

Up in the Jack-and-Jill, Brandon gets ready for work (what time is it? Isn't it Spring? Shouldn't it still be a bit light outside? What time does Brandon's shift start? HOW LATE DOES THE PEACH PIT STAY OPEN??? WHAT ARE THE ANSWERS TELL MEEEEEEEE) as he, Brenda and Jim talk Donna's Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

Brenda: exits, probably to get away from the hypocrisy that's speed-of-lighting its way into that bathroom.  Jim, presenting something to Brandon: "Oh, by the way, Steve's cousin left her business card." Brandon, getting away with everything as usual, reaching for the card: "I'm a little late for work, Dad." Jim, Smarm Douche, jerking the card away: "Brandon...in two years, remind me to tell you about my bachelor party." The writer of this thing, her head detonating all on its own: "........."

Speaking of Smarm Douches I HATE HIM I HATE HIM SO MUCH.

Manor of Martin.  Donna in the dark.

Felice enters, turns on the light, and they talk about, oh, you know, typical mother-daughter type things: Felice's desire to go out there and get some Strange; how she still loves Dr. Martin; that she doesn't expect Donna to keep her secret and that she's planning on telling her husband about her wandering vadge as soon as he gets home from a grueling business trip; and OF COURSE: A Mother's Love For Her Children.

More hugs.

The doorbell rings, Felice answers, and it's unfortunately this drip.  Who's actually there to do something nice and offer to take Donna to the Peach Pit for dessert.

      

Interior PP.  Brandon manages to do some work for the first time in his goddamn life.

Kelly arrives to steal a fry and ask Donna how she is.  Donna's over her mother's betrayal by this point and blows off Kelly's questioning by asking how the concert was.  Kelly says it was good, she didn't know any of the songs, but she "wanted to think of a way to cheer [Donna] up; I met these guys, and they're really, really nice.  And they wanted to know where to get the best hamburgers after the concert, so I invited 'em here.  They're waiting outside.  I'll just go get them." Oh, no.  I mean, this isn't a surprise because we all live in society and understand the dynamics of predictable television shows; but still: oh, no.

But yes.

Donna is adorably excited about it, though, and you know what? After her bummer of a day, she deserves to be serenaded by a boy band.  Even a third (fourth?)-tier one.

Nope.  Not ever.

We end with Donna and David kissing, which is only like, the fifth most offensive thing to happen this episode.  I'd call that a win.

And just like that: WE DID IT.  First (maybe last?) one back.  THAT WAS A SLOG.  I've reread it approximately 177 times and I know that if I go for a 178th, it's not getting published.  In addition to what's happened in the world of late, it's been an eventful 5 years of my life.  I loved to write, no matter how ridiculous the subject matter (e.g. three-decades-old television episodes of Beverly Hills, 90210), and I lost that desire somewhere along the way.  I feel lucky that I somehow found it again, and I guess this is the result? Which, WOW, I am so sorry.  All I can say is: I hope you liked it.