Brandon reaches PEAK atrociousness here. Let's beat him to death. With words. And maybe like, The Craft level shenanigans of some kind. AHHHHHHNdrea could learn a lesson or two from the great Nancy Downs.
Such as: not doing this with this alarmingly uninteresting - and dastardly, given the Young Republicans of it all - bag of uncooked farina. I'm loath to make such a proclamation, but: YOU'RE BETTER THAN THIS, AHHHHHHHNDREA. And also Brandon. But we'll get there.
And for now, she's giddy: "Pinch me, I still can't believe I'm not dreaming." As she says this she's running her hands up and down the back of his neck, which damaged me on an anatomical level from which I will never fully heal. He smarms, "Hey, chalk one up to the dreams do come true department," so not only is this guy a grade-A BORE, he's a fucking cheesedick who goes around spewing truly vom-inducing lines like that one. The camera pans back and around these two sick fucks...
...to Brandon, clearly in a real place of lurk as he pushes a laundry cart and glowers in their disgusting direction.
As is his wont, this lowest common denominator appears because of course he does, to add his two delusional cents to the mix: "She's tryin' to make you jealous, ya know. Girls pull stunts like this to make you realize you like them," and this has just positively never happened to Steve, not once. Brandon insists it's nothing, and that he wasn't even staring at AHHHHHNdrea and the putty-colored probable-bigot with whom she's currently canoodling.
Steve, 44, lays it on the line: "If you're gonna make a move, buddy, you'd better do it before it's too late." He then walks away to go blind other unsuspecting victims with his nuclearly braised upper body. Brandon looks back over at...
...this, stop it...
...then exhales and violently shoves the laundry cart out in front of him, because nothing says "quality guy" like one who throws a fit after being rejected by a woman.
