4×20 – SMALL POTATOES
by foxestacado
By Gryffindork
Let’s see…
DVD. Check.
Notebook. Check.
Godmother of all hangovers. Check.
Enough chocolate and Dr. Pepper to make my scales wince in anticipation. Check.
Let’s do this, then.
Aaand we’re opening with the time-honoured ER shot of us in the perspective of the patient, being whisked away under a row of lights along yet another one of those charming hospital corridors. A very serene nurse leans into our field of vision just as we start enjoying that lovely view and tells us to relax, and throws in a “There you go!” just to further vex us. Seriously, Nurse? Outta my face. Btw, our favourite Date/Place stamp informs us that we are actually looking at the ceiling of „Tablers Community Hospital; Martinsburg, West”.
As the camera switches back to regular third person perspective, we get to see and hear the patient for the first time. A) she is obviously very much in labour b) oh my God, it’s the voice of Babe the pig! Her actual name (the charcter, not the actress) is Amanda Nelligan. But she’d be very wrong in thinking that from now on, I shall call her anything but Babe. Anyhow, Babe gives another Nurse her name, Social Security and insurance company for… something or other, and then proceeds to amaze by telling everybody that the father of the baby cannot be contacted. Because he’s from another planet. Huh. Take that for interesting watercooler chit-chat. Insurance nurse and in-your-face nurse exchange bewildered looks. Oh yeah, you are freaked out by this incident with a complete stranger? At least she’s not your favourite female lead of the show…. Not that anything like that would ever happen….
Cut to the actual process of childbirth. The doctor, of course, is unbearably calm. Head of the baby seems to be out (and as compared to “Knocked up”, we don’t get a close-up), and then he veeery calmly and for my taste veeery slowly pulls out the rest of the little ray of sunshine. With no evident pushing on babe’s side. Isn’t there supposed to be pushing? Heaps of it, actually?
Baby’s out, and the Doctor’s face falls. So do the scissors out of a nurse’s hands, accompanied with a shocked gasp. Babe asks whether anything is wrong, but the doctor assures her that everything is fine. Of course it is! Don’t let the dismayed faces fool you! AND, they have every reason to pull the screen between you and your baby as they carry it off for cleaning! Everything is honky-donky! Behind the screen, we see the doctor lift the baby and there’s ten toes and ten fingers and… Uh, gasp!!! One tail!… Seems fitting, for the child of Babe… I guess I have to give the CGI department from a decade ago (my gawd, I’m so old…) props here, that is one cute little tail. But seeing as this baby is a girl, I wince at the thought of what thong-wearing is gonna be like. They might want to contact a certain Mr. And Mrs. Dursley of Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, UK (the world, the Universe…) about that. They have some experience with surgical tail-removal. And, as if the entire Alienbaby-with-a-tail-spiel wasn’t freaky enough, the kid is also a super soldier! No, wait… that is another season. Instead, the Doctor moans “Oh Lord, not another one!” Hmmmmm…..
Credits. How could anyone NOT love those credits?
An issue of “World Weekly Informer” is slapped on screen, informing the entire world (or, more like, loons and trailer park inhabitants) that “Monkey Babies Invade Small Town” with a nifty photo manipulation of a baby with a monkey’s head and tail, which Mulder informs us off-screen “is a little over the top”. Yeah, that, and also terribly put together. I can still see the whites of the former background around the monkey head. Somebody did a lazy cutting job. If I were that somebody, I’d have to bake a cake for next week’s computer application class AND apologize profusely to my Professor. On my knees. Not jokin. This is how my computer class rolls. Just so you know.
Despite almost 4 years of experience, Mulder is still brave enough to ask Scully what she thinks. “Not seriously?” she answers, and thus channels the spirit of our enitre snark-project. Cue the standardised exposition dialogue. I kinda miss a slide show here. Mulder tries to pass it by Scully as an interesting medical condition, also considering that there where a ripe 5 lil’ monkey babies born within the last three months in a town populated by 15.000 people. Scully points out that, yes this definately wants investigation. Only not by them. Which, at the current state of knowledge, is a point well taken. I’ve had both a girl with an extra toe as well as a guy born with 11 fingers in my graduation year. Wish Moose and Squirrel had dropped by to investigate THAT. I would have been the perfect little sidekick. And finally, Scully cuts to the chase and spares us any more BS by bringing the obvious out in the open: We are only here because some doofus claimed that “Visitors from Space” peppered up the local gene-pool.
Having arrived at the hospital, Mulder and Scully visit Babe to hear more of the monkey business concerning her daughter. I know, I am being redundant, but I cannot put enough emphasis on how much I enjoy hearing Babe speak here. Okay, moving on. Basically, the tail is removable, so we are not really worried about it all. The talk moves on to the kid’s dubious lineage, and you can basically see Mulder working his giddy way up to his favourite question, and I think his voice might even quiver a bit with excitement as he gently utters “Were you abducted?” Babe says, no, “He dropped by my apartment one day, and it just sorta happened”. Ah, but Mulder is not yet ready to let go of that bone! Concentrating hard to keep that concerned look on his face, he elaborates: “But the father is an alien?” Ah, everyone, make yourselves ready for great things to come. Babe looks at Mulder like he is a madman (which, coming from any other character might be quite understandable) and says – get this! – :”No, I didn’t say he was an alien, I said he was from another planet. His name is Luke Skywalker. He’s what’s known as a Jedi Knight.”
… I could say SO much right now, but it would just cheapen the moment. Just enjoy it for what it is. The looks on Mulder’s and Scully’s faces? Ye gods, I’d pay good money to have those re-enacted for me every morning, so I can face the cold, mean world outside my apartment with fresh energy. Without even blinking, Scully asks: “Did he have a light saber?”, and this is my cue to excuse myself to build a couple of extra figurines for that Scully-shrine tucked away at the back of my closet. Most. Perfect. Line. Ever.
Oh, and in case you were wondering the same? No, he didn’t bring it. He did, however, sing her a song.
And Babe starts humming the Star Wars theme.
No, seriously.
No, seriously! Yes, I would have cracked that joke, but this is actually happening on screen! What I said about Mulder and Scully’s face a little further up? I take it all back. Just Scully’s face right now will do perfectly well.
(Okay now, hold the phone here for a little while:. If, say Colin Firth (or, who am I to be picky: Matthew MacFadyen) were to drop by my apartment, all tarted up in their full Mr Darcy attire and ready for a cozy DVD night, I would NOT think “Oh my, that 19th century sex god is quite the quick learner when it comes to operating a telly!” but more likely “Oh my, there is a lunatic in a costume roaming my apartment.. now how do I call the authorities without drawing his attention?” But then again, Mr Darcy… scratch that, I get her. Back to the story!)
Whilst I was busy moving into my new, Darcy-inhabited happy-place, Scully took her time to ask exactly how often Babe has seen Star Wars. Turns out she’s soon gonna hit 400, which causes Mulder to finally make a desperate leap for the door. A bit rich coming form a guy who can talk along to many a crummy sci-fi movie, if you ask me. It should be added here that I don’t think Scully has been seen looking this happy in living memory. Oh, I hope she’s gonna lord that over Mulder big time.
Babe finishes the scene for us by worrying whether there’s a chance of Luke being the father of the other four Super-Sayajins. No, there’s not, because – and this pearl of wisdom is coming to you from a freak currently recapping a ten year old show, so cherish it – HE IS NOT REAL, YOU CRAZY BINT!!!
Outside the room of Babe, the alpha-dork, Mulder and the townsfolk have gathered to stare at yet another tail-baby. Or they might just be the relatives of all the other babies on display. Who am I to judge here. Speaking of babies’ relatives: the camera lingers suspiciously long on a maintenance guy named “Eddie” after Mulder has left the frame. Gee, i wonder if this is gonna turn out to be significant. Way to go with the foreshadowing! Jeez…Mulder tells Scully that he “think(s) there is more going on her than Luke Skywalker and his lightsaber.” Which is a line the 13-year old in me enjoys immensly. However, to his own evident astonishment, Scully agrees! Frankly, I think she just hangs on in order to see how the freakshow continues. It’s what I would do. We have a woman who thinks her baby (with a tail!) is the next padawan for the Jedi Academy! That is the kind of job satisfaction everybody wants.
Over at the world-famed “Eastern Appalachian Regional Health Department”, some female official pins chromosome sequences (or whatever…) onto the light-wall-thingies and rants off a bunch of medical facts which, frankly, I am too dumb to get in English. But hey, so is Mulder! Scully then clears things up for both of us by explaining that the 5 kids all share the same father, who probably has a tail of his own. He’s gonna be a tough one to find. Mulder wonders how on earth this could have happened, and once again Scully steals away my snarky thunder by wisecracking the exact same stupid joke that was about to dance off my own tongue, for which she receives some honourary brownie points. Mulder’s twist on the “Let’s fall in love” lyrics following that, though? Ugh, jokes simply CAN be taken too far. Somebody whack him with the witty-stick, please. Well, at least he knows his investigative skillz and points out that according to medical record, all of the five married monkey-mums have received insemination therapy with the same doctor. “So much for not putting all your eggs in one basket!” he cracks. Yeah, you’re better off having them stored in a test tube at your local conspiracy headquarters.
To the Batmobile!
In front of said Doctor’s building, Mulder and Scully witness an angry couple storming up the stairs. The husband tosses a cocky “You, too, huh?” over his shoulder as they pass our agents. Hehe. I love when people think they are a couple. I am simple that way. Also, he calls his wife Babboo, so frankly, I think the baby with the tail was God’s way of punishing those two. And damn right he was.
Inside, the angry mob of betrayed parents is busy assaulting the doc. In a very well-staged circle, that leaves just enough room for, say, a camera in the centre of events. How convenient.. Actually, Babboo-man looks suspiciously like Christian Bale on my tiny little TV, but thankfully is not. The doc suggest (played rather badly, methinks), thats the insemination might not have taken with any of them, seeing as he is certain he’s only used sperm of the respective husbands. Which he’d damn well better be. Upon which we get yet another flat delivery of an actually at least decent line about her not having been with a man for ages from Babboo. Bad acting should be punishable by law. I think I’ll put that in my world domination manifesto, too. In all the hassle, Mulder yet again follows his instincts and leaves the mob to further investigate a noise (!) down the corridor. As he turns a corner, we get a nice shot of Darin Morgan’s (aka Eddie form before) plumber’s cleavage. There are some things I don’t need a few hours before bedtime. Mulder, however, spots a curious scar right above Eddie’s butt crack, just where a tail would be. And the plot thickens…
Blah blah, Agent Mulder, FBI, couple of questions? And Eddie uses the moment to pull off the classic “Yeah, okay…NOT!” line of action and dashes off down the hallway. Mulder rolls his eyes and sprints his toned G-Man body after chubby little Eddie to a racy score and tackles him to an early fall, which causes both of them to slide dramatically right in the midst of the aforementioned angry mob. As Eddie struggles in vain, Mulder once again pulls down Eddie’s belt and tells Scully to “check it out”. Yuck. I know, this is about the scar, but still… Ew, is all I’m saying. Scully seems to be thinking along the same lines, judging from her expression, and slowly the monkey-mums gather around her, with an angry attitude quite of their own. “That’s him?” asks one of them.
You betcha, he is! As next scene’s five paternity tests show us. Eddie is in interrogation with Mulder and Scully, but to my great disappointment, they pull none of the classic cop-roleplays. Shame, really. Eddie, however, states that if he did have sex with five women, who all wanted children, but their husbands were unable, and now they do have kids, and everyone’s happy, where would the crime be? “Hypothetically!” Which is the suspect’s equivalent to telling your parents that “a friend” got knocked up during a drunken party night, what do they think “she” should do? He also seems quite insulted that nobody considers the idea that the women had consensual sex with him. Which Mulder and Scully simply ignore. For which I love them. The point is driven home by the fact that, once outside, Scully wastes no time in telling Mulder that “On behalf of all the women in the world” she highly doubts the consensual sex idea. Heh. Anyway, they’ll keep him in custody under the suspicion that he’s slipped the women the infamous rape-drug on some occasion or other, even though Mulder doubts that these women are the type to do much of anything without their husbands.
Meanwhile, Eddie gives his personal data to some faceless Deputy who, let’s face it, is definitely in for some paranormal crap or other at the hands of Eddie, seeing as he is all alone with him. Generic Deputy 17b seals his fate by forgetting the silent “H” in Eddie’s last name Van Blundht. Everybody forgets the silent H. Eddie seems to be staring at the Deputy quite intensely, and unless I have suddenly dropped into a Will and Grace version with ugly people I am pretty sure something dramatic is about to happen (and also, because I have seen this episode about ten times already). And sure enough, just as the Deputy says “All right, Mr Van Blund-hut” – which is so what I would do – and turns his attention back to Eddie, he as well as the audience is shocked to discover that he is staring at his twin (who we all assume is Eddie, who has changed his appearance off-screen to safe 1013 heaps of money). His evil twin who then proceeds to knock him out with the swear-jar (a pig in a police uniform), which is a nice touch, if you ask me. As the Deputy bleeds all over the floor, Eddie once more informs us that “The H is silent.”. Somebody should consider anger management classes.
Next morning finds the cheeky Deputy shoved under his desk and Mulder and Scully back at the precinct, being informed by yet another police extra that he had seen the Deputy check out the night before, and is quite startled by the fact that he’s obviously been silently bleeding the night away. The now re-awakened Deputy informs Scully that Eddie looked just like himself, the Deputy, just before he knocked him out. Huuuummmmm… With uncanny timing, just as the last pieces fall together in the experienced viewer’s mind, Mulder rings the desk bell to not only catch Scully’s attention in an extremely childish and thus endearing way, but also support our own enlightenment with a classic sound effect. Dude can change his appearance, huh? Well, let’s wait and see what Fox has to say on this.
Actually, he starts off by saying “I have a theory, wanna hear it?” with a little excited grin that suggests that not only does he have a theory, but also an enormous chocolate cake to share with the rest of the class. Scully, however, can smell what the Mul is cookin’ and rants off his entire theory – sans the enthusiasm- before he can even catch a breath. Van Blundt somehow changed his physical appearance to resemble the deputy before knocking him out and walking out the precinct, leaving no one the wiser. Mulder is obviously deeply impressed and suggests that they hit the road immediately to go and pick out china patterns. Heh. Grumpy McSpoilsport decides to trash the “moment” by whining why Mulder can’t go for the obvious answer, that all the witness reports have been thwarted by either tiredness or a blow to the head, and that Van Blundt – and I’m misspelling on purpose – walked out without the Bounty Hunter performance. And thus I have delivered my own smooth transition to mention how Mulder tells her that they both have seen something like this before (see ugly bounty hunters with abnormal icepicks in earlier seasons), but however, he doesn’t think Van Blundt is an alien, “unless they have trailer parks in space”. Now, THIS is a show I would like to see on TV! Financially and intellectually challenged aliens playing their own version of mailbox-baseball… might explain the entire plot of “Independence Day”.
And we’re off to find Eddie at his home. On the way, Mulder poses the very much anticipated question of who Scully would like to be, if she could change her appearance for one day. And she decides to go for the lame-ass answer of “hopefully me” and then, to win some more time, elaborates on how looking like someone isn’t equal to being that person. Which, honestly? Is the whole bloody point of the idea, Dana! Where’s the fun in, say, “being caught” peeing in the Dean’s coffee mug looking like my most hated college-rival, if I have to bear the consequences of that behaviour, too? Exactly, none at all! But even after she’s grasped that concept, she amazes us by the thrilling choice of “Eleanor Roosevelt”. Way to go, you punk! You really know how to live it up, Sculls! And to think that this is the role model of my early teen years. What a sad state of affairs. Mulder poutingly steamrolls that by saying that “You can’t be a dead person.” And I fully back him up.
The dynamic duo has arrived at the Van Blundht door, where the „h” in the nameplate choses that exact moment to drop off the wall. Which is simply hilarious, I’ll have to give 1013 that. Let’s just not let it turn into a habit.
Some old guy in a stereotypical dressing gown opens the door. It’s Eddie’s father. OR IS HE? Sure he is, for certainly that guy doing lawn-work in an adjoining garden, and who we see for the second time now, is the actual Eddie, right? Yeah, right…
Enter the casa del Blundt with its timeless wood paneling and trashy decor. Edward Senior present a well played facade of surprise concerning his newly discovered state of 5-times granddad, but really jumps into life as Mulder points to an advertising poster for “Eddie the Monkey Man” with some freak show. “Yeah, that’s me!” he blurts out with enthusiasm, “Wanna see?”. And he gropes for the belt of his dressing gown, forcibly reminding me of a great-uncle of mine, who apparently has a rather nasty rash on one of his buttocks at the moment. Guess how I know. Scully, with her ever present mind and G-Woman reflexes stops him with a desperate “NO!… thank you.”. So instead Eddie’s “Dad” says that his son “unwisely” had his own tail removed, and how he basically thinks that the tail was the only thing that made Eddie into something special. Wow, what a great Dad! No wonder Eddie has that great confidence in his own personality.
Also, Eddie’s “Dad” calls Mulder by his name. Which he has not been told until now. Eddie’s Dad was right after all, he sure is no Einstein. So yeah, it was Eddie, and he dashes off once again, leaving only his red dressing gown behind on the street, and Mulder charmingly decides to drape it over Scully’s shoulder as they meet up outside. Me, I would’ve used that opportunity to strangle him with the smelly garment.
Cut to the house of Babboo-bimbo, where her husband, who is not Christian Bale, dashes in through the front door. Wearing the same green sweater we’ve seen earlier under a red dressing gown. Yes, it’s Eddie, as we see when he locks himself in the bathroom. Babboo comes by to stand outside the door and ask if he’s okay, and Eddie manages to shake her off. Not, however, before she can call him “Sugar Patootie”. Babboo and Sugar Patootie? Can somebody please put them down? For the sake of mankind? How does one end up in a marriage where people call each other such names and MEAN THEM? God, maybe being single isn’t so bad after all.
Back at the Van Blundt’s, Scully and Mulder search the place, (still revoltingly ugly enough to make any interior designer drop dead on the spot) and find one BIG supply of beef jerky in the attic. Well, actually, it’s not beef jerky, it’s Eddie senior, As evident by the tail visible on the mummy to make Priest Imhotep proud.
Meanwhile, Eddie is still stuck in Babboo’s bathroom as the real Sugar patootie comes home. In an act of brilliance worthy of season 9 Scully, they leave the baby alone in its crib in the living area to go and investigate the stranger together. For Babboo and Sugar Patootie never go anywhere on their own if they can help it, I am sure, Eddie has to think on his feet, which is obviously quite the task for him, and he decides to go with the obvious and.. turn into Mulder. Duchovny looks kinda weird in green, but nevertheless tells the couple from hell that “It’s all clear!”
Time for some slicing and dicing. Or, more like… sawing and grinding.. ew. In a good way.
As Scully digs into the dry mummy with an electric saw, Mulder enters and, being a bit better at the whole concept of “thinking on his feet” quickly covers his coffee cup with his hand to prevent the dust of ancient death™ that’s currently whirling up from the mummy from spoiling his caffeine-induced fun. Way to go Mulder, just what I’d do! Though we don’t know what killed Eddie Senior yet, we DO know that he is basically covered in an extra layer of muscle right underneath his epidermis. “And, thankfully, he is preserved and intact.” Scully states. Just as Mulder manages to snap of the poor bloke’s tail. In the time-honoured tradition of science students who’ve just broken an expensive skeleton, he keeps asking questions about the medical state of the man to draw away Scully’s attention, while frantically trying to force the tail back on by sheer willpower before getting the hell out of there. This entire scene is classic slapstick, and well delivered.
Mulder once again drops by with Babe Skywalker. Only.. something is off with his posture. And facial expression. Which is all very good, because the ensuing dialogue kinda reveals that this is not Mulder after all, but still Eddie in his witty disguise. Though I do wonder where he got that suit from….And we witness how poor little Eddie has to listen to the girl he.. I won’t say love.. kinda likes? rant about how much of a loser he is. Which he is. Also, he’s a rapist. Good job by Duchovny on the increased doofus-level. And yeah, it really pained me to say this.
Just as Eddie Mulder leaves Babe’s room, the real Mulder shows up, Babe finally shows some resemblance to sanity (apart from her opinion of Eddie) by asking Mulder what he’s doing there again already, and Sugar Patootie fulfills his duty as plot point by calling Mulder to ask him exactly why he (Mulder) took his (Patootie) charcoal suit this morning after raiding their bathroom. I can see the fat little hamster running in his little wheel just inside Mulder’s skull as the fact hits him that Eddie has assumed his appearance, and is close by, since he’s just visited Babe. And off he goes, to arrest two guys he finds in the locker room, because he cannot be sure which of them is Van Blundt. If any. He calls Scully over so she can run some blood test on the two to determine their identity (how long do they plan on keeping those poor blokes chained to the showers? Unless the red blood cells decide to cooperate by spelling out the names under the microscope, I am pretty sure that a full identification via blood will take quite a while. But then again, they might just have different blood types from Eddie, and that could already settle the thing).
After hanging up, Mulder notices a loose panel in the ceiling. Huh… Must. Investigate. Yup, it’s Eddie, who does take his time to tell Mulder that he’s one hell of a hunk, before talking him from above with a battle cry.
Next scene shows Mulder apologizing profusely to the two guys he’s arrested earlier in a not so eloquent way. Actually, it’s just “I’m sorry!” over and over again. Something tells me this might not be the Mulder we all know and swear at. Call it phile-senses. Or the fact that I know full well what is going on here. As he sees Scully approaching, he smoothly excuses himself with a „Look, am I done here?” and the proceeds to tell Scully how Van Blundt “cold-cocked” him and legged it and that, in fact, he doesn’t think they’re needed here anymore. Okay, Scully? Hun? THIS is when your spidey senses should start tingling! Mulder! Backing out of a case! Not. Happening. Also, he’s just used the term “Small Potatoes”? The very same thing Eddie Senior said? Also, as you might not know, the title of the episode? HELLO? Am I the only one who gets all the important facts within 43 minutes to properly categorize them? Oh that’s right, I am. My bad.
To her credit, Scully does look a little confused as she moves out of frame. The camera, however, zooms in on a maintenance door to the basement behind her, through it and then along a cluttered area to a little door very reminiscent of “V for Vendetta” V’s prison cell. But that is just the dork in me speaking. However, we discover that there is indeed a prisoner tucked away behind the door. Why, it’s no other than our very own Agent Fox Mulder! Whoever saw that one coming?! Oh, but Eddie does have a heart after all. He’s left Mulder provisions in form of a sandwihich, an apple, and a can of Perk cola. I swear, the kid is such a retard. But still, the shot showing that measly meal in the foreground and Mulder in the back is highly amusing. And kinda cute.
Aw, J. Edgar Hoover building.
“Mulder” sits in Skinner’s office looking rather like a pre-schooler who’s been sent to see the principal, and copies Scully’s rather feminine posture to blend in more efficiently. Skinner snaps their report shut and tartly asks who of the two wrote the report. „Mulder” says he did. Turns out that he’s spelled “Federal Bureau of Investigation” wrong. Twice. Heh, Can”t get any wittier than that, folks. Sorry to once again disappoint on the snark-scale. Maybe this episode is just too good, and I should turn my next attentions on a timeless classic like “El Mundo Gira”. “Mulder” enjoys his own private joke in the vast empty scenery that is his brain as Scully elaborates on the measures she has induced in order to round Van Blundt up. Oh, how much i want to take that stupid face and bash it onto Skinner’s desktop in therepeutic doses.
Down in front of the LBO ( a title which is just too great not to be honoured with further use) “Mulder” fumbles to find the right key to open the door, and fails miserably. Again, Scully: Spidey senses!
Ah, whatever. She is too immersed in telling us for her big plans for this very Friday night. I shall now quote her word by word, because, oh boy, that Dana sure is one wild animal! Here comes the TGIF battle plan: “Well, actually, as it’s Friday, I was thinking I could get some work in on that monograph I’m writing for the penology review. Diminished acetylcholine production in recidivist offenders” The WHAT you’re writing for the HUH? Now, acetycholine I definitely remember from ye olde biology class, but the rest…Must switch to German in the hopes of actually getting what sad activity she’s talking about. Oh gee, they’ve written an entirely new topic for her, with no acetylcholine in it at all. Oh, the wonders of synchronisation. Still not getting it, though. There is a brief glimmer of hope for her feeble existence however, as she says that she might bag that idea. Already I am all aquiver with visions of a night out on town with “The Girls”. What? Skinner’s Secretary seems nice enough. And she could always give old Couvaroubias a ring!
But, oh no, she tells us that actually, the case of strange muscle growth on Van Blundt Senior is far too interesting, and has thus entered at number one on the list of her Friday night priorities. And here I feel socially disfunctional when I spend my weeknights lounging around my apartment in my most hideous jammies, weeping over Jane Austen, drawing Harry Potter fan art or.. well, recapping old TV shows. Turns out I am a bulging ball of charisma as compared to other people. Seriously, woman! Tart yourself up, hit town and get yourself a guy (though nobody with tattoos please.) Or at least go catch a movie! Or a LIFE, for that matter.
Anyway, with that positively thrilling prospect of Scully’s weekend, she leaves and tells Mulder she’ll see him Monday morning.
“Mulder” enters the office, only to sneer at “his” first name (Dude, a smart person would’ve checked out that badge dangling from your breast-pocket before now) as well as the sacred “I Want To Believe” poster, along with the classic “This is where my taxes go?” complaint. Oh, go and die, Van Blundt! At least he possesses the presence of mind to check his driver’s license for his address.
Having arrived at Mulder’s apartment, AKA the fortress of solitude, he whinily complains about the apparent lack of beds in it, and the answering machine gives us a supposedly sad view into Mulder’s private life. Though I admit that the sex-phone lady calling him in person is indeed pretty pathetic, a night of cheese steaks and conspiracy theories with The Lone Gunmen sounds like one helluva party to me! Might as well enjoy the lot while you still have ‘em! And at least Mulder has actual human beings competing for his attention, whereas Scully has.. paperwork. “Mulder” rounds off the scene for us by violating a basketball and doing a hilarious G-Man routine in front of the mirror. However, we shall not laugh at him, because: Who wouldn’t do that when equipped with an FBI badge and a gun? Damn right. I might even envy him a bit. And once again Mulder is “a damn goodlookin man”. Jeez, somebody had some major sucking-up to Duchovny to be done for this episode, didn’t they?
Back at Scully’s place, AKA the coven of shriveled social life, the lady of the house sits on the floor in casuals to tackle that exciting paper. Which I find utterly endearing. And she’s wearing the glasses! Oh, dork-glasses, how have I missed you! Never leave me again!
There’s a knock on the door, and she peeks through the spy to see “Mulder” stand in the hallway with this universe’s biggest dumbass grin on his face. I won’t even bother how he found out her address, when it already took up all his brainpower to figure out Mulder’s. Maybe he has some sort of homing device. In his pants.
As Scully lets him in, we discover that not only is he packing the big grin but also a bottle of wine, and ergo some definite agenda. Thank God Scully has no ova to create little monkey babies with… whoops, I’m not supposed to know that yet, am I?
Scully asks whom the bottle is for. Twentyone. Twentytwo. Still no sound from “Mulder”. Come on Eddie, you can do this! I know it’s a big, difficult word to wrap your tongue around, but just give it your best shot! “Us” he finally mumbles. Well done, good boy!
Scully looks a little bewildered, but accepts the booze nonetheless. She has been to college, after all, and the most important lesson one can learn there is “Never turn down free booze.” As she busies herself in the kitchen, “Mulder” desperately tries to find the coolest and most alluring seating position possible and is thus immersed in a ferocious battle with a cushion.. Considering both participent’s estimated IQ, I think we can safely say that it’s a draw.
As Scully sits down, Van Blundt turns up his mojo and states that Scully and Mulder don’t really talk that much. “No, we don’t, Mulder.” Scully answers in a tone that strongly suggests that she is not about to change any of that. For it shall bring down the entire universe if those two were actually to talk to one another. “Why not?” Van Blundt asks, and here he has such a sincere, simpering look on his face, that with all my heart, I really just want to.. punch him. Hard. Square on the nose. Ugh.
A cut, a bottle of wine, a lit fireside and a considerable amount of fading daylight later, the two are still reclining on the couch. Scully seems pretty sloshed by this time, and I have to say that if one bottle of red wine is all it takes to take out the girl, she should seriously improve her training pattern. By going out in the weekends, for instance. She is actually stumbling for words. Scully. Anything-with-less-than-three-syllables-is-not-a-word-Scully. This is bad.
We are in the middle of a mildly amusing prom night anecdote of Scully’s (though the fact that it’s Scully’s story upgrades the entertainment value of the whole incident tenfold) and as she finishes, “Mulder” correctly estimates that she usually does not tell him stories like that. “No, but I am discovering a whole new side to you Mulder (…), I like it” she tells him with a smile. And this is why I hate Van Blundt. Poor girl, intoxicated as she may be, is utterly glad about the improvement she thinks she has just achieved in the relationship to her partner. And about to experience one big biatch of a shock. Van Blundt transitions to waxing nostalgic and asking Scully whether she ever wishes things had turned out differently. And Mister smooth makes his move, scooting closer to her on the sofa, moving his face ever closer to hers. She does not speak or move back. Their lips are mere inches apart, and even now, on my tenth re-watch, it’s all I can do not to bite my own sofa in anger and frustration and maybe even a bit of pity for poor, poor Scully, as FINALLY the real Mulder kicks the door in (flying pieces of jamb and all), looking rather disarrayed and more than a little shocked at the scene playing out before him.
But that is nothing compared to Scully, who looks from the real Mulder in the door to the fake one inches away from eating her face,and then yelps and slips off the couch from underneath him, quick as a flash, and looks on in horror as Van Blundt performs his one and only onscreen transformation from Mulder back to Eddie. Oh, I so wish she’d just punch him right now. Or Mulder would, for that matter. Maybe he did. Off-screen. Seeing as so many things will happen off-screen in the future, let’s just assume that Mulder kicks his arse big time after the scene closes, yeah?
One month later finds Eddie in the “Cumberland Reformatory”. Mulder drops by for a visit with Eddie. He does not look like a happy camper. Go figure. Eddie, however, is wearing a head that reads “Superstar”. He says his therapist thinks it would boost his self-esteem. Self-esteem my arse, the therapist does that to torture him. As would I. And as if the fact that he has to run around in the loser had wouldn’t be enough satisfaction to us, Eddie further delights by telling us that the other inmates beat himup and steal the head whenever he wears it. And Eddie gets a new one from his Therapist every week. What’s the name of that Therapist? I’d like to send a Christmas Card. Mulder is definately fighting to surpress a grin here. Don’t Mulder! Let it all out!
It seems that Eddie has called Mulder by to give him some last piece of advice. However, he smoothly wins his sympathies first by telling Mulder That “I am a loser by birth. You are one by choice. I don’t get it.” Hear hear, Eddie. Truer words have never been spoken.
Well apart from stating obvious truths about Mulder, Eddie also wants him to live a little. Treat himself. Which, also, is good advice. There must be something in teh food at the Cumberland Reformatory.
On this thought, Mulder leaves the visiting area to find Scully – who is quite busy studying her obviously very interesting shoes – waiting outside. “I don’t imagine you need to be told this, Mulder, but you’re not a loser,” she tells the floortiles. Oh, you filthy little liar, Scully! He so is. And so are you. And we love you for it. Because on some level, we’re all losers (how poetic.. I must write that wisdom down for my autobiography). Mulder retaliates be saying “Yeah, but I’m no Eddie Van Blundt, either.” But you could be, you silly coward! If you are refering to a certain line of action Eddie took. Which I know you are, because you are a mean bastard, and this is all very embarassing for Scully. Oh, but don’t worry, you two, by next week, all this embarassment and frustration will be forgotten, and you can start afresh on square one with that UST of yours. No seriously. No, seriously, this is how the show works.
And we close on one of the inmates wearing Eddie’s hat.
Recap by Gryffindork