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.
Brandon walking YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN.
Yes you will: he and Nikki have another near-collision...
...and Nikki once again finds him appealing as they formally introduce themselves...
...and look, I get it, I really do, usually until words come out of his mouth, but at the moment, he's actually pretty cute as he tells her, "Maybe we'll run into each other again sometime."
Nikki clearly feels the same as she dreamily responds, "Maybe," and leans back against the wall, smiles widely and watches him walk away and oh, Nikki: NO.
Elsewhere, Brenda enters a bathroom where Sue stands at a sink, puffing on a cig and de-bad-girling herself before heading back to Mrs. Scanlon and her Non-Distinguished FBI Director K$H Money Patel-level independently-roving peepers. She advises Brenda, "Don't mind me. I'm just doing my daily 'makeover' again. Time to turn back into little Susie Sunshine." Brenda, in turn, attempts to relate: "Hey, I know from experience what it's like pretending to be somebody you're not." Is she referring to her summer of terrible accent work?
Sue says that her double life is better than "hassling with [her] mother," of which I have NO DOUBT. Brenda asks, "You think so?" and Sue turns to her and says, "You don't know my mother."
But she does! Even though she really doesn't. But whatever: "Yes, I do. And I knew your brother, too, even though I forget his very existence at every turn." Sue asks, "Before or after he shot himself?" - creepy - to which Brenda clarifies, "Actually, I didn't know Scott that well. But I was at his birthday party that night. And I was there when David Silver buried a time capsule in Scott's memory." I forgot about the stupid time capsule of it all, which makes Brenda's obliviousness when it comes to the "Scanlon" surname even more inane. Whatever, she tells Sue, "I can be there for you, too, if you want."
Sue gets a little defensive, which, given her backstory (and, frankly, her soon-to-revealed story), I don't blame her, and she sneers, "Why? Because you say you were Scott's friend or because you feel sorry for me?" Brenda says it's because they're freshmen/senior buddies and she doesn't want Sue earning a bad rep and that Mrs. Scanlon will discover the secret soon enough, given that she can actually see into the future with those eyes of hers.
Sue, however, foreshadows what's to come: "You don't know what it's like living in that house." By now, Brenda doesn't actually feel like dealing with this troubled youth anymore, so she ultimately begs off by offering Sue the names of some counselors she can burden with tales of her fucked up existence. Sue, desperate for a lifeline and probably an emancipation, says appreciatively, "I just might take you up on that."
A twinkly version of the theme song plays us over to The Blaze HQ, where a furrow-browed Brandon sits at the desk looking over a mock up of the next sure-to-be subpar, Andrea-less issue.
Oh, piss off. He enters and asks Brandon how it's going.
Brandon, for whom the hyphenate "work-shy" was coined, immediately enters into put-upon coal miner mode: "I'm not a happy camper. It could take me three weeks just to get the budget in order. Not to mention assigning features, selling ad space, paste-up." If only someone actually completely qualified for the role hadn't been unceremoniously fucked over by everyone involved here.
After Gil hang-doggedly admits that the job is a lot of responsibility for which Brandon has goose egg qualifications, Brandon douche-leans back in his chair, props his feet up on the desk and queries, "What's the matter, Gil? Are you feelin' guilty about ruining my carefree youth?"
Gil pouts, "Guilty, yes. But not about you, it's about Andrea," before grabbing a rolling chair, spinning it around, sitting down - backwards, mind you, because OF COURSE - and wheeling up next to the desk. He then decides to have his probably seventh inappropriate interaction of the day with a minor and confides to his new bestie Brandon, "She really laid into me. It's my fault. How could I put her in the tough spot of having to choose between her own ambitions and her affections for you?" WHAT in the FUCK? But he's not done: "Do you think...I'm sexist?" Yes, absolutely, but also: time to CALL THE COPS.
Brandon, not at all disturbed by this conversation with his teacher, asks, "What's that got to do with this?" Said like the most failingest upward mid white guy EVER.
Gil answers by continuing down his unseemly path: "I can't believe I was so oblivious. I've read all the studies, Brandon. About how teachers don't call on teenage girls as much as guys and that time and time again they'll ignore even the most talented female student in favor of a boy." Glad it took reading a study to come to this realization...or not come to this realization, as the case may be. He concludes with a sad-sack, "I never thought I'd do it," because I guess now we're supposed to give a flying DICK about his feelings in all of this? Way to center yourself, you absolute bog creature.
Brandon tells him, "Listen, I don't wanna sound like a quitter 'cause I'm not" - nope; not a quitter. Just a guy who does the bare minimum and skates by with constant adoration and praise - "but if you wanna give the paper back to Andrea, I'd understand."
This is, obviously, what should rightfully happen, but of course Gil, Rookie of the Year Rider of Brandon's Jock, disagrees: "I don't think that'd be fair to either of you." Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, yeah, it would be COMPLETELY FAIR TO ANDREA, who didn't deserve to have her job - basically, her whole goddamn identity - ripped away from her for no fucking reason other than to glaze a very mediocre dweebus with entitlement issues and a nice smile. Said dweebus, though, agrees, because he'll never miss an opportunity to be completely unworthy of something: "Maybe you're right. How do we get outta the doghouse?"
Gil's response is putting a hand to his head...
...and Brandon's response...to himself? is smiling like the cheesedick that he is.
Fade to library. Andrea sits among her only friends, the books.
Here comes Brandon, strutting, carrying a manila folder and probably locked in to get some more Library Beration Shenanigans under his belt.
In lieu of a proper greeting, he tosses the folder in front of Andrea and says, "Had a feelin' I'd find you here. Wanna proof our new masthead?" After she begins to protest, he insists, "Just take a look at it, would ya?"
And so she does and so the slip of paper she reads from says, 'Brandon Walsh and Andrea Zuckerman, co-editors-in-chief' and so I proceed to vomit all over the place because what fresh patriarchal End of Days mess is this? SHE SHOULD HAVE THE WHOLE FUCKING JOB BACK. Brandon deserves NOTHING, but declares their new co-role to be law of the land: "My first executive decision." He's not the first egomaniac (emphasis: maniac) to declare an executive order as jurisprudence, and he certainly won't be the last.
And then he proceeds to manipulate her per uzhe, saying they make a great team, asking to be her partner (hork) and finally managing to get her to agree to co-chiefdom (NOOOO). Goddamn it, The Zuck. Tell him to pound sand and then go start your own underground Beverly Hills press syndicate wherein you can excoriate The Man (first up: Meyers, Gil) and androcentrism in general.
Alas, that doesn't happen. Instead, they pulls snaps off of each other and then they're off to the Barbecue of the CENTURY...
...as are we, at the McKraftsman.
Charcoal grill. Some really anemic burger patties take center stage...
...as Andrea, Brandon, Dylan, and Steve stand around, making dad-level jokes about grilling and spatulas and Christ almighty, this is embarrassing.
Donna and Nikki enter. Brandon / Nikki flirting. Donna: "Do you two know each other?" Nikki: Uh, we've bumped into each other a few times." Oof.
Kelly arrives; she exchanges A Look...
...with this one; behind him, we see Brenda and Andrea inside...
...and then Brenda approaches, and, not picking up on the really fucking weirdo vibes between her boyf and BFF, asks, "Kelly, where have you been?"
She blames her lateness on David not being able to decide what to wear, and as we can observe upon his arrival to the scene, he clearly went with Blind Clown, but actually not, because this is maybe the least offensive thing David's ever worn.
Nikki, having seen David enter, excuses herself from what I'm sure is an enthralling conversation with Brandon...
...then slinks over to David, telling him, "We need to talk."
Inside they go, sitting on the futon as Nikki declares her lust for David, and I'm only able to go on after typing those words because I know what comes next is all a ruse: "David, I can't take it anymore. You've gotta tell Donna about us right away...I want you."
She kind of lunges at him for a kiss...
...but he manages to push her off, telling her that he loves Donna, that he should've been honest with her and that he will be soon, when the moment is right.
Another lunge...
...and enter Donna. She calls out, "Busted!" and I don't know if she's referring to catching Nikki and David or whatever just went on in David's ill-fitting jorts.
Nikki and David jump up and Nikki joins Donna at the other end of the couch, saying, "I think he passed the test. Boyfriends are so hard to train these days, aren't they?" The girls point and laugh and laugh and laugh, because David absolutely deserves it, right now and always.
He's also in dire need of a boxer change a goddamn clue as he asks, "Wait, what's goin' on here? You mean, you two were in on this together?"
Donna and Nikki high-five, Nikki exits...
...and David sighs like he has any-fucking-thing to be upset about, telling Donna, "Okay, you got me. So does that mean you're not mad at me?"
Once again a male on this show gets off far too easily and she says that she's no longer cross with him and they exchange I-love-yous and a kiss. Welcome to the next almost-decade of your life, Don. What a slog it will be.
Back outside, these three guffaw, probably about the permed sea anemone billowing down the nape of Steve's neck. Brandon stands and walks inside and as he does so, Nikki gives him the ol' horn-dog up-and-down...
...and after Donna joins her, Nikki asks, "I've only got one more question for you and then we'll put this whole 'senior buddy' business out of its misery...does Brandon Walsh have a girlfriend?"
Donna doesn't gag or slap Nikki across the cheek; she just giggles and takes solace in the fact that, if Nikki and Brandon become an item, at least she and Nikki will be able to commiserate about their terrible boyfriends who do terrible things.
Over here. A despondent Kelly sits on a low wall and WHY DID YOU EVEN COME YOU SACK?
Brenda appears at her side: "What's the matter, Kel?"
Sighhhhhhhhh. This conversation makes me ill, really: Kelly says she's in a senior slump; Brenda thinks she's just lonely (burn?) and that they'll "find [her] a guy" - woof - "one as great as Dylan" - double-woof - and Kelly, a terrible person, can only respond with, "Thanks, Bren," rather than providing her supposed best friend anything in the realm of "the truth."
Brenda walks back over to Dylan, they look at each other...
...then start hardcore making out and Dylan is officially THE DEVIL. Kelly sucks, too, but Dylan is a true McDemon.
Like the rest of us, Kelly watches sadly as they pre-fuck in front of all of their friends, Brenda's brother, God, the good people of Dylan's neighborhood watch, everyone. Gross. And: fin.
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