Roswell
A Roswell Christmas Carol

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Fa la la la...not

Simon from Go exits the front door of what we have recently discovered to be his house (because he's an independently wealthy millionaire who lives alone in a modest ranch that looks exactly like the house I, independent non-millionaire, grew up in) carrying a few empty gift boxes. Hey, there's Maria. He asks why she's there, guessing, "You're wondering about Sydney." Kick-ass name for a girl. Simon's cache increases yet again. Simon explains that she's staying with him "for a few days. Y'know, for Christmas." Maria awkwardly pries, "She has…" Tact? Oh, no, that's you, Maria. Oh, wait, it's not that either. This is so far from being any of her business that my brain just exploded trying to comprehend the distance.

But Simon even finishes Maria's sentence, obliging, "…cancer. It's in her bone marrow. Inoperable." Holy Jesus. The man practically apologizes for withholding this information in the past, casting a downward glance and noting, "I know you and I talk a lot…" They do? THEY DO? They went to the Crashdown for breakfast -- ONCE -- and other than that, they've shared a veritable lifetime together cultivating a relationship that revolves around the existence of two words and two words alone. Say it with me, people, sing it if you know the words:

Pepper. Jack.

Leave the poor man alone with his family. He continues, "It's hard. To talk about it." Maria responds, "If there's anything I can do. Anything at all." Oh, logic dictates he is so going to take her, his food-service professional, up on that offer. Just like that time I ended this really long relationship and later poured my heart out to the pizza delivery boy. Or that other tragic time in my life when I found out my parents were getting divorced, and I knew the only person who would truly be able to understand me was the check-out girl at my neighborhood Food Lion. But you all knew that. Because we've all been there. Who hasn't, really? He tells her that she already helped him "last night," at which point, for some reason, I keep picturing the randy Married With Children studio audience responding with that arcing, highly sexualized, "Oooooooooh!" that would do this moment such justice. Oh, but he meant her singing. He tells her, "You have a beautiful voice." Oh, blah. Like he could even hear her. The rules clearly state that if you can make out an individual voice within the blend, that person is singing too loudly. Not to mention the fact that once the four-part harmony kicked in, the girl was lip-synching like Milli Vanilli at a damn karaoke bar. Sydney steps out onto the porch in a pink gown, announcing to her father, "I can't get my crown to fit right." She regards Maria: "Who are you?" Exactly. We learn that Sydney is going to be in "the Christmas pageant this afternoon" as Simon helps Sydney with her crown and Maria stares on in awe. There is a dry eye in the house. It is mine. This is so out of place and emotionally manipulative that I vow my gift to you all is to throttle Katims and the damned one-horse open sleigh he rode in on. Darn. I wish I hadn't tossed away that "Cloys For Tots" reference in the recaplet. 'Cause hark if it wouldn't have made the perfect ending to this paragraph right here.

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Roswell

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