Part 3 of Season 2, Episode 27: Mexican Standoff - I Mexican't stand where this is headed.

Catch up on Part 1 here; and Part 2 here.

Back here.

Inside, Kelly and her very cute skirt and equally cute hairdo place some frozen something-or-other in the microwave.

The phone rings, she answers it, and...

OF COURSE it's Cindy, back in her happy place (that is to say, on the fucking phone), calling to speak with Brenda, and, again, this can wait! I guess she's just returning Brenda's initial call, but still.  Please find some friends, Cin.  Anyway, Donna's scheme is set into motion, as Kelly tells Cindy that Brenda ran out to grab them some food and she'll call Cindy once she's back.  They hang up and Kelly scrambles to find the number in Mexico (won't these charges show up on the next Phone Bill of Taylor?)...

...and we cut over to Not La Boca de Grande, where Dylan and Brenda are back in the lobby, continuing to argue about Last Summer Stacy and Dylan wanting to "start over" by taking her to some cantina and Brenda drama queening, "I don't know what I want anymore."

More telephone antics when Rosalita answers Kelly's call, passes the receiver over to Brenda, and then Kelly tells Brenda to call home ASAP.  Good lord, the time before texting.  What kind of animals were we?

Back on Turf Taylor: here's this Grade A side of perv - having finished, I don't know, erecting a koi pond, whittling wooden creatures for the garden, securing Mel's sex swing to the ceiling - come to wash his hands, flex his bicep and flirt with a teenager.  What a catch.

He asks her, "What's a girl like you doin' home alone on a Saturday night?" which is like, the fucking tagline of The Groomer's Playbook.  Time to get a new angle, my guy.  And by "angle" I of course mean "prison."  Sadly, Kelly is flattered by his inquiry, and tells him, "Brenda's in Baja with Dylan, and Donna's out with David and that leaves me," because Kelly knows, as we all do, that Brandon, Steve and AHHHHHHHHNdrea don't matter.

Non-Slick Rick then slips in, "No, uh, no boyfriend?" and way to act like you've never tried to pick up a 17-year-old before, Jake; we all know better.  The Sexy Sax starts playing as she tells him, no, no boyfriend; he smiles in "YOU'RE TOO FUCKING OLD";  she says he doesn't have to rub it in (barf); he smirks, "Sorry, you told me to get personal."

It just keeps getting more sick-making as Kelly asks him to stay and share her lasagna and Jake leans in wayyyyy too close as she sets it on the counter and says, "Smells great," and Kelly says, "Yeah, I love lasagna," and Jake, having never conversed with a woman over the age of 25, i.e. the age at which the frontal lobe is fully formed, says, "I'm not talkin' about the lasagna" and truly, it's one panty-dropper after another with this guy.  Melrose Avenue is that-away, you sick fuck.

Oh, Jesus Christ.  Brenda calls home.  Cindy: "I was just wondering, have Jackie and Mel mentioned anything that might make a good wedding present?" Me: "Were gift registries also not a thing in the '90s?" Brenda: "We're seriously having this conversation right now?"

Following her engrossing call with Cindy that couldn't possibly wait, Dylan snarks, "Everything okay?" and Brenda responds with an even snarkier, "Fine." It's decided that they're going to get two rooms for the night and that they need to eat.  Can these two just make up already and dance adorably into the night and then have their stomachs fall out of their assholes at the border checkpoint? I'm ready for Dylan to smash a champagne-filled coupe over Jimbo's dome against the side of the House of Walsh while screeching, "Take a shot, Jim!" something I say far, far too often in my daily life.

Good GAWD back here we go again.

MAKE IT STOP.  These two eat lasagna and talk about how long Jake's going to be working there and Kelly asks him if he needs her to "hold his level" (Satan, take the wheel and careen me into that Jersey barrier, please and thank you) and Jake calls her a "tough cookie" and I really think I need to lie down.  GET SOME 35-YEAR-OLD FRIENDS, Joke (typo and it stays).  Maybe he could hang out with Cindy.  It would be far less inappropriate than the wholly alarming MESS this is.

The doorbell rings.  Spaceship Hatch of Taylor.  OH GOD.  You can actually SEE the outline of the slumbering toy poodle perched atop Steve's head through the glass.  RUN KELLY RUUUUUUUUUUUN.  But not into Jake's waiting arms.  Like, directly into a portable panic room from where you can call the cops on both of them.

Unfortunately for her, she doesn't heed my advice and Steve barges in, even after she tells him she's really tired and not in the mood to deal with a complete clown at the moment.

Jake decides now is a great time to come in and show off a few of the poses he learned at the Barbizon School of Modeling and I guess, like, piss all over the Foyer of Taylor to assert Kelly as his territory to Steve or whatever.

After she tells him that she cooked dinner for Jake and Steve asks, "Anything left for me?" and Kelly metaphorically knees him in his probably-permed groinal area by saying, "It's all gone," Steve has to take the Pretty Low Road like always and smirk-jerk, "Oh, I get it.  A little tea for two, huh? Well, don't let me get in the way." BYE.  But as he leaves Kelly tries to stop him! Instead of laughing in his face! And kicking him in the small of his back!  WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE.

And even though she owes Jake less than fucking nothing, she turns around to explain to him, "Steve and I used to go out.  For like, 15 minutes.  Because it's high school.  I'm in high school.  You must remember high school.  Maybe you have your 20-year reunion coming up to refresh your memory?" Except maybe not, like, 90% of that.

Jake, a fully grown human at least several years post-12th grade, is not at all embarrassed to be involving himself in the inner-workings of a high school clique and asks, "He's still pretty hung up on you.  You ever have second thoughts?" Kelly doesn't respond with, "Are you fucking kidding me? Did you see his hair and clothes?" but rather, "No.  I mean, he's a great guy [heave].  And we'll always be friends, but it is definitely over." And Jake's all, "Definitely?" and Kelly's all, "Definitely," and then...

I definitely need a Clorox Wipe-down followed by several soaks in a tub filled with my own tears and 20 Mule Team Borax after witnessing this stomach-churning CRIME THIS IS A CRIME.

They abruptly pull away from each because, you know, CRIME, and over the Synth of Forbidden CRIME Lust, Jake says, "Maybe I should go," but then they start mauling each other's faces again and Jake and his paws really need to take a fucking breather and ease up on Kelly's face there.  Did this drifter just get out of the clink? Jesus. 

Nothing like getting to first base with an adolescent.  How very heartwarming.  Now excuse me while I go drink several bottles glasses of my favorite syrup of ipecac red wine.

The last Part - Part 4(!) coming soon!