There Will Be Blood

Episode Report Card
Demian: D | 8 USERS: A
The Hardy Boys Drink Your Milkshake! They Drink It Up!
In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description!

Rattle, Rattle WE DON'T GIVE A SHIT ANYMORE THEN! A very long time ago, Our Intrepid Heroes encountered The Vampire King, whom everyone then proceeded to forget about until tonight. Much, much later, The Leviathan King funded a series of archeological digs that eventually uncovered The Metatron Stone, an intricately-carved chunk of prehistoric rock that contains instructions for killing The Leviathans until every last Leviathan lies dead. Unfortunately, the only person who could read and interpret The Metatron Stone was a sniveling, snot-nosed teenage pain in the ass who promptly got both himself and his mother kidnapped by Richard Roman's right-hand henchmonster, Leviathan Edgar. Ooops! And while all that was going on, Dead Bobby inched ever closer to the madness that eventually afflicts all earthbound spirits on this show, though just between you and me, I'm pretty sure he'll end up being just fine. Are we done here? Wonderful.

Rattle, Rattle STILL NOT GIVING A SHIT NOW! The slowly advancing NOW! slowly fades away to let us linger in the blackness for a moment until the camera opens up on the smiling face of one "Gloria Jane," a business reporter for the nonexistent television station KZPZ, the latter of which is apparently located in Seattle, if the view from the balcony behind Ms. Jane's carefully-coiffed head is to be believed. Ms. Jane is interviewing the eminent Richard Roman regarding the latter's recent purchase of SucroCorp, the subject of that fake branding ad we all saw a few weeks ago in the middle of that horrible episode with the annoying guest star. No, the other horrible episode with the annoying guest star. Yeah, that one.

In any event, after Ms. Jane confirms that SucroCorp is "among the world's leading manufacturers of high-fructose corn syrup," the two get to chatting, and for whatever ridiculous reason, the camera decides to cut away from their talking heads to take in a brief montage of those watching this inane corporate puff piece masquerading as news, including a pasty-skinned fat sack of crap who's shoveling potato chips into his slackjawed maw while sporting little more than a pair of dirty heart-patterned boxer shorts, a dim-looking convenience store clerk with a fondness for prepackaged powdered doughnuts, and a bunch of Middle Eastern gentlemen clustered around a rickety old television set in, like, Cairo or Amman or wherever, because Richard Roman is just that fascinating! Seriously, guys! Can't you see them just hanging on his every word all the way over there in Riyadh? In the middle of the night, even!

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