Twin Peaks
Episode Eleven

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Mr. Holland's Opus

And so further Andy/Lucy-inspired hijinks erupt anew. Andy skulks around corners carrying the vial and a poorly concealed copy of Flesh World (hey, should "People's Exhibit A" really be used for such tainted purposes?) and trying vainly to remain stealthy and incognito, but as he makes for the bathroom, he walks right into Lucy, who of course is carrying a large box filled with some kind of individually-wrapped snack bags. They crash into each other. The box goes flying. Hey, your chocolate got in my porno mag! Hey, your porno mag got in my chocolate! Lucy attempts damage control, and as she places the snack bags back in her cardboard box, she uncovers the copy of Flesh World Andy had been carrying. She looks up and notes the "Rest Rooms" sign, adds it all up that he was on his way to the bathroom with this naughty nudie mag, and perpetrates further heinous Crimes Against Plot Development in standing self-righteously and harrumphing off, much as she has done to Andy in every single episode thus far.

Back at her desk, Lucy slams around some more as Cooper and Truman sit nearby and discuss the cavalcade of pointless extras currently boarding their busses to spend a week or two at "Tanking Series Fantasy Camp" even as I type these words. Truman: "Our judge arrives this afternoon. Clinton Sternwood. Travels the circuit in a Winnebago." Judge for what? Leland's bail hearing? Um, no, actually, because we then learn that today will feature Leland's bail hearing and Leo's competency exam. Truman wonders if Leland will get bail, and Cooper humorlessly (I don't like where that's going AT ALL) responds, "That's up to your state prosecutor." Whose name is "Daryl Lodwick." Or, as he was known on the production slate for Episode 11, "Jack Squat Nobodygivesadamn." For lack of a more interesting, better-thought-out nickname. Sorry. In other news, no one by the name of "Robertson" ever lived next door to the Palmers on Pearl Lakes. The last known residents of the house were a "Kalispell" clan. They're so on it. I'm so in a coma. But just at this moment, Andy returns from the bathroom (Wow. It's like nine TV seconds later. I guess his gun isn't the only thing to go off prematurely. Ba-dum), looking down again, walking into someone again, and panicking when the (ostensibly filled) vial rolls underneath a chair near where Truman and Cooper sit. Andy runs over and bends down to retrieve the vial, and Cooper spots the bottom of his boots and stops him in his tracks to ask where he got them. For they are the Circle Brand, the very same kind they found under the floorboards at Leo's. He bought them from the One-Armed Man. Of course he did. Cooper references My Giant again and determines ambiguously that there must be a clue in all this somewhere. Andy nervously asks for permission to go, claiming, "I don't know how much time I have." Cooper grants him his leave. Cooper asks Truman what's wrong with Lucy, and we cut over to Lucy's desk where she looks angrily down and arbitrarily tosses away a pencil she had been holding. Damn, that Holland is a master of the subtly comedic touch. Like, y'all remember that part in Krippendorf's Tribe when hilarious comic genius Richard Dreyfuss…oh, you don't? That's funny. Because neither does the rest of America. Neither does Richard Dreyfuss, whose only recollection of the existence of that film is "pick up check, buy new boat. Lather, rinse, repeat." Stupid Richard Dreyfuss.

Great Northern. A still-fun-to-watch Ben Horne barely avoids the subplot-overload quagmire as a concierge of dangerously little repute informs him that she has received top-secret information on good authority that an incognito travel writer named "M.T. Wentz" is arriving in Twin Peaks at some point in the near future. He tells her to be on the lookout and compliments her on a job well done before Sylvia Horning her right back onto the cold and thankless streets of LA. Don't get too cocky about it though, Richard Beymer. You'll be seeing this disenfranchised concierge again soon enough on an unemployment line near you, I have my suspicions. Ben enters his office to find French Canada's less expensive, non-union William Shatner counterpart Jean Renault sitting in his office. Le Shatner "haw haw haws" the place up as usual, letting Ben figure out who he is before sitting him down and showing him the videotape of a bound and gagged Audrey. Ben freaks, rising and calling Jean a bastard. Jean lays it out plain in his dicey and just plain bad native accent of Franc-o-blown: "Mek no mees-take, Meester Orne! Ahm joost'a may-ssenger. Dey re-quayst a lahge summov moh-nee. Ah reequire some-ting else entirely." Oh, yeah, Canuck? And just what might that some-ting be? Jean wants a partnership at Jacks. And one more thing. Fast forward the Audrey follies to a shot of the surveillance video of Cooper in his tuxedo at Jacks. Jean wants Cooper to bring him the ransom money. Ben doth protest too much, for Jean cuts him off: "Doo yoo wahnt your doh-ter beck?" Of course Ben wahnts his doh-ter beck. And so Jean leaves, telling Ben to expect a call "toe-mee-roh aht nuun." Paging this guy's dialect coach. Then killing him. I've eaten lunchtime snacks of La Yogurt more authentically French than this guy's accent. Jean au revoirs, and Ben throws a chair and makes a call to the front desk, telling his Sylvia Horne-y front-desk-watching ingenue to get Cooper on the phone right away.

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