Episode Report Card
Demian: A- | 4 USERS: A-
The Hardy Boys Might As Well Kill Themselves
In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description!

Rattle, Rattle BLOOD-RED THEN! and wow. Just about everything in here's either from Season One or from one of the two flashback episodes they've done in the past, so, you know. Don't expect me to drive myself insane digging up all of the relevant linkage, okay? "Okay!" shrieks Raoul The Big Gay Supernatural Dragon, and Raoul, I wasn't talking to you. "I do appreciate that fact, I'm sure!" Raoul shrieks again. "I was simply trying to be helpful!" Ah. In that case, I offer you my thanks, friends of friends. "Never a problem! Continue!" As you wish. So, way back in the series premiere, we learned that when nine-year-old Wee Sam was afraid of the thing in his closet -- and don't you dare giggle at that, Raoul -- his worthless excuse for a so-called father quite literally handed Wee Sammy a .45, and on top of that, between the weapons training and the never-ending care and feeding of their various sawed-off shotguns, Sucky John raised Our Intrepid Heroes -- to Darling Sammy's eternal ambivalence, I should remind you -- "like warriors." We're also briefly reminded of the fact that watching out for Sammy was Dean's only real job growing up before the montage hurls us into an endless string of arguments they've had both between themselves and with their worthless excuse of a so-called father over the years, on topics ranging from Dean's blind faith in Sucky John to Darling Sammy's reasons for remaining incommunicado whilst at Stanford to Sam's feelings of utter abandonment growing up, with that last bit underscored by a flashback to the most horribly deprived Christmas anyone on the planet ever had, ever, and now I'm far too depressed to muster the strength to order you all to shut up for the...

...Slashy, Slashy NOW!, so feel free to continue to talk amongst yourselves while Raoul and I have a moment. "[Sob!]" There. It passed. So, shortly after the Slashy NOW! begins its advance into the blackness, the camera cross-fades to an in-their-faces pan across an entire cafeteria table's worth of jocks and cheerleaders as the bleached blonde Queen Bee amongst them carefully enunciates, all lip gloss and teeth, "She is such a slut!" And this is a bad thing...why, exactly? Oh, right, I forgot: It's high school. Never mind. The pretty-boy jock seated at Queen Bizznatch's side waxes oh, so eloquently about his fondness for those self-confident enough to own, fully, their sexual identities and expressions -- or not -- before wondering what the hell gives. "She totally banged Jamie Chaffee, that's what!" QB gossips. "She gave him the reverse cowgirl and everything!" QB continues, and she looks so smug and pleased with herself that I find myself hoping some Hell-sent beastie barges into the frame to beat her to death with a claw hammer. "VIOLENCE!" You gotta wait for it, Raoul, 'cause it's not gonna happen in this scene. "Rats!" Yep, unfortunately, all that follows involves the gossip's target -- a somewhat alarmingly sinewy brunette named Taylor -- arriving from the lunch line to assume her usual place at the table, only to find it taken by one of Queen Bizznatch's many minions. "That's my spot!" Taylor protests. "Sorry," the head cheerleader sing-songs, "this is a skeeve-free zone!" And then, as if that weren't bad enough, the pretty-boy dickbag at the head cheerleader's left starts in with a Slut Cough that's quickly picked up by the other bitches and choads at the table, and Taylor chooses to flee the humiliation rather than hurling her plate of rigatoni into the asshole jock's face before cracking open Queen Bizznatch's fucking skull with her goddamned tray. Kids these days are wimps. The girls I went to high school with would have sliced each other's eyes open with nail files over crap like this.

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