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Djb: D | Grade It Now!
Red, Red Whine

Back at Señor Szechuan (or whatever it's called), Michael is once again in the process of uncouthly eating with his feet, or whatever boorish cliché he's this time fulfilling. When the check comes and Michael pawns it off on Maria, she angrily storms off once more. Michael follows her at Max's urging, commenting, "Y'know, this dating thing really bites." "Yeah," Max's silent glare of condemnation seems to say, "have you seen who won't stop hanging around me?" Good point, Max. Way to stop being the dull nice guy for a minute. Oh, wait, he didn't say that. I did. Well, then, good for me. So Michael follows Maria over to the back of the Kremlin (that was another red-themed joke. I don't even know if it made any sense), where she again berates him for being the total loser we already know he is. She tells him that he just doesn't "get it," and he counters brilliantly, Model Congress-style, with the retort, "If I'm such a loser, why do you want to be with me?" I'm guessing budgetary concerns have something to do with this, what with the already shoddy and limited sets collapsing around them and the exorbitant expense of bringing in an entirely new mouth to feed (and eyes to shadow) in Roswell's great last hope of Tesla. So stand by your man, DeLuca. Because I'll tell you right now, Mr. Right ain't coming. It's just not in the strategic plan.

And the Oscar for Most Dramatically Intoned Line of Criminally Insipid Dialogue in the history of the moving image: "We are all going to die! And it's not going to be pleasant!" Michael arrives home at Guerin Manor to discover the place ransacked by a band of marauding social critics attempting to return Michael's domestic space to the aesthetic one would expect for someone of his social class. Among the rubble, they've even left a forty of Pabst Blue Ribbon and a bumper sticker that says, "My other car's a piece of shit." Okay, not really, but said marauding band would throw a plot curve slightly more invigorating than the arrival of an unrefreshingly berserk Renee, holding the communicator thingee from sixty scenes ago. She tells Michael that his last chance of getting her help is meeting the whole gang tomorrow night with said glowing orb. Because she has one too. Wow, I guess she must have been at the same nostalgia kitsch show that Michael found his at. I mean, come on, people. Pet rocks are so seventies. Even the glowing ones. Oh, yes. Even those.

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