Roswell
A Roswell Christmas Carol

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Fa la la la...not

Den of Porno. An unacceptable shot of Porno blocking a television screen with the entirety of his close-up ass (Hi, Santa? When I asked for a porno featuring some different positions, this is SO not what I meant. Ew. Just kidding) bent over for the benefit of an entire viewing audience, as well as a nearby and near-faint cameraman whose only Christmas wish is that the SAG strike will somehow start right. Now. Over on the couch, the always hilarious Kyle "Let's Go For A Slay Ride" Valenti sits on the couch. After the football play unfolding on the TV fails and Porno returns to the couch, Kyle notes that "his mind and body are in deep conflict." Porno glares. Pause. Porno: "I'm very concerned that you're starting to make sense to me." Because we like Kyle, we'll hear the rest of his football banter: "All I'm saying is that if the guy can't visualize his journey to the goal, he has no chance of takin' the rock downtown." Good enough. Tess enters, all a-twitter about how crowded the stores are and blah, and sits on a chair right in front of the television (which there is in every self-respecting house containing good country folk in the mind for some ol'-fashioned dudes-watching-TV-hijinks) while Porno and Kyle lean simultaneously to one side and then the other to get a glimpse of the blocked set. As Tess finishes the portion of her speech about "people dragging Christmas trees on top of their cars," the New Mexico Chalupas (or whatever…this expansion craze is getting out of control) convert for a first down, and Porno and Kyle cheer in tandem. Tess noses around under the brown-toned plaid couch and at the bottom of an empty bottle of generic-brand beer the set designer saw fit to place in front of a seventeen year-old, but she still fails to sniff out any holiday cheer at all inside the Porno house. So she volleys, "But clearly you guys don't bother with Christmas trees?" It's in the garage, where they see fit to leave it. Bachelor banter. Football. Porno barks, "Visualize!" at the TV, then makes a please-score-a-touchdown face that so morphs him into one giant yellow tooth that I almost wish I were staring at his ass again, were I given a choice between those two images. ALMOST. Tess hedges around the notion of Christmas dinner, and Kyle provides the information that they "usually hit the Crashdown for turkey." Tess sulks while the boys parse the hidden meaning behind the script's insistence that they experience a "simultaneous football orgasm" at this moment. Everyone and everything about that house is brown.

Isabel and Michael are inside of a pharmacy. He hands her an electric toothbrush, telling Isabel that that will be Maria's present. Michael defends his choice of this gift on the basis that "she set a price limit. If I exceed that budget, then there's gonna be hell to pay." Isabel believes there will be "hell to pay" if he gives her an electric toothbrush for Christmas, adding, "You're better off getting her no present at all." Michael claims that he "tried that last year" (this is where I would ordinarily link to the episode in question, but considering the non-artistic misdirection of the show at this time last year, if there a Christmas party to be had, the viewing audience sure as hell wasn't invited to it, so we're forced to settle for this revisionist history instead), and Isabel snarks that last year was their first year together (it was? IT WAS???) and he didn't give her anything. Dental hilarity (which is about the third funniest arena for comic exploration, right after power tools and genocide) ensues, and Michael claims the whole holiday is nothing more than a marketing scam (just like those clothes he's wearing, this soundtrack, and probably even the toothbrush itself…you sure picked a fine time to go Mennonite on us, didn't you, WB Boy?). Isabel snarks, "Well, you can write that on the card when you give her a dental product for Christmas." Whoa. Apparently the Nazi movement doesn't discriminate on the basis of teeth whiteness. He reaches out. She advises thusly: "Go home, think about all that you and Maria have shared, all that she means to you. Then start coming up with some ideas. Okay? A Christmas gift should be personal, thoughtful, and something someone would never get herself." She checks her planner and begs off, her corkscrew tresses (which, incidentally, look kick-assedly good in this episode) flying behind her as she tears out the door to go ladle candy-cane soup with reindeer meatballs into bowls at a shelter or some such other altruistic and festive thing. She turns to leave. Michael: "Hail the Christmas Nazi." She turns back. "What did you say?" Michael denies saying anything, and she smiles broadly and leaves, keeping her Auschwitz about her all the while. Seeing how not acceptable this is yet?

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Roswell

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