Twin Peaks
Episode Eleven

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Mr. Holland's Opus

Back at the Double R, Hank and Norma stand aside as an extremely large man in a black cowboy hat walks into the near-empty diner (no doubt empty on account of numerous countrified folks entering, sneering, "Hey, this cheesy diner has been virtually transformed into…a cheesy diner with tablecloths! I can't abide that!" and taking their leave straightaway) and requests a booth. Norma launches into a list of specials, but the stranger interrupts her and orders a burger and fries. She balks. Hank and Norma think it must be a "food critic trick." But nothing so tricky as Hank's decision to get to the bottom of this stranger's identity by stealing his wallet as soon as he goes to the bathroom. Ha ha…ha? Wow, if the jinks got any higher, this episode would have taken place in space.

Meanwhile, over in the Double R's cordoned off "Smoking Gun" section, Donna tells an increasingly estranged Maddy about the secret diary hiding out in Harold's house. Maddy asserts that the police have Laura's diary. It sounds dumb when Donna states it this way, but she does so anyway: "Harold said that Laura kept a second diary that I didn't know about, and he's got it." Maddy strikes surprisingly close to my good side when she looks around confused before uttering an incredulous, "God." Donna says she's going to get her hands on it, even though Harold is reading it to her verbatim. Meanwhile, Hank identifies the mystery man as a "Daryl Lodwick," and I actually have to scroll up in my own recap, every word of which I have written TODAY, to figure out who that person is. State prosecutor. Check. As in "check, please," and get me the hell out of this diner before I start tossing fancy-schmancy crème brulet on the floor and using those twee candleholders on the writers' asses like some latter day Clue weapon. I'm just tired, is all.

Yes, yes, YES! It's Josie! In scanty clothing, vamping around for the sheriff's delight and delivering long passages of ill-conceived and dangerously delivered dialogue! Has somebody been reading MY secret diary? Even though the moon was glowing in a perfectly cloudless sky during a scene going on pretty much simultaneously with this one (in a shot before we entered the Double R), we join Josie and Harry mid-lightning-storm in the pouring rain just across town. I guess what they say is true: if you don't like the weather in Holland, wait five minutes. Or something. Josie tries to ravish Harry's concerns about their relationship away, but he's not having it. He can't trust her. Did she really go to Seattle? Why didn't she tell him? She tells him that she was afraid. Of Ben and Katherine? Yes. "And now," Harry lobs, "Katherine's dead." And then: "It was insurance money." Josie starts to cry and walks out of the room. Nice! She's losing it, much to my perverse and non-subsiding glee. We'll call that The First Nail In The Coffin. Or The First Knob On The Dresser, for those truly in the know. Spoiler? Is anyone reading this who actually doesn't know what that means? Tell me, honestly. I would really like to know. Oh, but this informal poll is not open to MBTV employees or their families, so, sorry Sars. ["I have long since lost any insight I may once have had as to what you're talking about." -- Sars] Harry follows her into the living room and apologizes, and she grabs him and repeats, as if her trip to Seattle included acting lessons with Vicki the Talking Robot: "Take me. I want you to take me." She tells Harry to "tear it." He rips her dress. Let the "taking" begin. Through the window, the lightning from "Stormwatch 8:04-8:06" illuminates a shady character looking in the window at this shameful display. Man, the ever-concerned folks at Child Protective Services never take a moment to rest, do they?

Commercial! Listen to this rock-out ABC Tuesday night line-up, won't you just: Who's the Boss! Head of the Class! Roseanne! And…oh, drat. It's Coach, isn't it? Ah, well. I guess if the trend of Craig T. Nelson being the only truly painful thing to watch on an otherwise rising network only repeats itself every ten years, we'll be okay through 2010, right? I'm talking to you, production team of The District. Sure, there isn't much time. But there still is time. Oh, God, wait. I went and completely forgot all about Bette again, didn't I?

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