Thursday, October 15, 2009

S01 E10 – Smokescreen

We start in the hallways at Degrassi, where Caitlin, Susie and an already enraged-looking Kathleen are trying to get people to sign a petition. They have a lot of handlettered posters around, because this is the '80s. "Clean up the environment!" the girls bleat futilely. Everyone ignores them. "I told you this was a stupid idea," growls Kathleen. That's basically her default response to everything.

In the background, we can see Yick and Arthur playing with a basketball down the hall. But then the camera cuts to them walking in the front door. The plague of teleporting schoolboys continues.

Just then, Rick comes in, and Kathleen perks up slightly as she spots a new target for her withering scorn. "Look what the cat dragged in," she smarms. In case you've just joined us: Rick is working-class, and Kathleen hates anyone working-class (also lesbians and, more generally, anyone who isn't Kathleen).

Rick walks straight up to the girls and asks to sign the petition. Caitlin and Susie are pretty astounded that a working-class hero like Rick apparently has a mild interest in the environment and isn't spending all his time unionising dock-workers. Rick and Caitlin exchange adorable awkward smiles before Rick shuffles off.

Susie immediately starts teasing Caitlin, although she admits that Rick is cute. Kathleen butts in to say, "He's also as dumb as a post! And the school criminal!" Hey, those rumours were never substantiated! And why doesn't he get any credit for his heroic distribution of liquorice to the masses? And why has everyone forgotten that the last time Susie teased Caitlin about Rick, it degenerated into a homophobic witch-hunt within minutes?

As Caitlin stares down the hallway at Rick's departing form, she gets an already-all-too-familiar gleam in her eye. "Maybe all he needs is a little help," she muses, as the opening credits start up. Caitlin's found another project; Lord help us all.

I mean, really! The last time she tried to manipulate Rick to suit her own ends, she failed horribly, and was in fact outdone by Joey, who won Rick's heart with some slashy banter and a shared love of scruffy denim jackets. Does she not know when to quit?

After the credits, we're in Ms Avery's class. The kids are taking turns giving speeches on their family history. Susie has pretty much pwned everyone else by giving a talk on black empowerment, then producing a NASA "emblem" that her astronaut uncle gave her. When she finishes, everyone applauds, although Kathleen, predictably, looks disapproving. It's Yick's turn to speak next week, and he looks extremely ill at the prospect.

The class ends, but when everyone's leaving, Ms Avery calls Rick back to ask why he didn't do some geography assignment. He just shrugs angstily in response. Ms Avery, raging lesbian that she is, puts her hand on his shoulder and reminds him that "repeating Grade Seven doesn't mean you have to repeat the same mistakes". Rick just rolls his eyes, and she says that if he doesn't straighten up and fly right, he'll have to repeat the year again. Caitlin watches this exchange from her desk, her eyes brimming with middle-class pity. Once Rick goes out into the corridor, he punches some lockers, because he's a guy, and that's how guys express their feelings when they're all messed up inside.

Arthur's at his locker, and calls Yick over to ask if they can go play basketball. Yick says he has to do research for the family history project, and Arthur (proving yet again that being a nerd does not mean you're smart) is sceptical that family history would involve research.

Yick complains that nobody is going to want to hear about his family: "Who wants to hear about being poor and living in a big house with a million relatives?" Arthur suggests talking about what happened before the Yus arrived in Canada, the land of opportunity, but Yick's determinedly pessimistic. "Who cares about refugees? I need something interesting, like Susie's badge. Otherwise I'll be boring." So our secondary issue of the week is: former refugees who think refugeeism is boring. Uh… if you say so?

On the PA, Mr Lawrence announces that the lunch special today is "Tuna Surprise", and the school dietician says it's excellent. Is "school dietician" Canadian for "canteen lady"?

Rick's in the bathroom, having a smoke. It's a spectacularly angsty, tortured smoke; I think he's been watching too many James Dean movies. He is also standing right in the open, not hiding in a cubicle, which is just asking for trouble. Shane comes in and immediately tells him, "Cigarettes'll kill you, man!" Rick gives a characteristically tortured-teenish response: "Yah, yah. What are you, my social worker?" This line has less of a rhetorical punch to it when you actually have a social worker, though. Also, Shane is quite easy to tell apart from Rick's social worker, as Shane doesn't have a sea anemone for a head.

Unfortunately, Rick's tangled with the wrong guy: Shane has a massive bee in his bonnet about smoking, as previously foreshadowed by his collection of anti-smoking T-shirts. Now, while using the urinal, he rattles off a list of reasons why smoking is totally bad for you, man. Why oh why must so many conversations on this show take place while a teenage boy is peeing? And why is Shane so up on the dangers and grossness of smoking when, as we are soon to learn, he is so very careless about other health issues?

Rick says that the only advice he wants is how to get Caitlin to like him. Shane calls Caitlin "a browner", which I presume is Canadian for "brown-noser". "Yeah, so?" asks Rick, who apparently can't be bothered to dispute that. Shane suggests sitting beside her in class. "She sits in the front!" says Rick. "No way I'm gonna sit in the front." Come on, Rick. Faint heart never won meddly lady.

Shane then says Rick could join the Environmental Action Committee that Caitlin's on, so they'd have something to talk about. Rick decides this is a pretty good idea, even though joining the Environmental Action Committee sounds even nerdier than sitting in the front (I say this as someone who frequently sat in the front and tried to start an environmental club at the age of eight). "Just don't light up in the club room," says Shane, but Rick's outta there before Shane can start lecturing him again.

Cut to the Environmental Action Committee meeting, which is taking place in what looks like a large store cupboard. Kathleen, who is the president, is calling the meeting to order, and even the way she does that smacks of bossy-cowism. Also she is wearing a handmade badge that reads "EAC PREZ", lest anyone momentarily forget who's boss, and sitting in front of a big poster of Tina Turner for some reason, which I think makes Tina Turner the only actual famous person to be in any way connected with this show. Just then, Rick opens the door and walks in. Everyone, even Caitlin, looks anxious, as if he might have been sent in by Big Industry to break some heads.

"What are you doing here?" asks Kathleen, with a look of utter, utter loathing. A standard Kathleen-face, in other words. "I want to join," says Rick (Caitlin looks perturbed again). "What do you know about the environment?" asks Kathleen. Sycophantic giggles from nameless club members.

"I live in it," says Rick, which is a perfectly valid answer, but everyone laughs at him. Even Caitlin. Although she then hastily looks concerned again, and points out that he did sign their petition. "And besides, we need all the help we can get, right?" she adds, which is a rather feeble recommendation. We're so desperate, we'll take anyone! Susie backs her up, and then so do the other club members. Kathleen reluctantly says that he can join, and he sits down next to Caitlin. Cue awkward glances.

The club secretary, some girl called Trish who we haven't seen before, then stands up and announces the first item on their agenda: a new name. Several people exclaim, "Yeah, that's what we need!" Kathleen insists that their current name is fine, Susie says they need something shorter and catchier, and Trish suggests the totally lame "Pollution Busters".

"People, please!" cries Kathleen. "This is a serious committee! I still like the old name, and not just because I thought of it, either." She'll make a fine dictator one day. Rick looks like he disapproves of the whole discussion; clearly he'd been hoping the club would discuss something more exciting, like eco-terrorism.

At lunchtime, Susie, Caitlin, Kathleen, Rick, and Trish are conveniently leaving the building together. Susie muses that the meeting went really well, but they should have talked about the petition more. "Has anybody signed it?" asks Trish. Nobody has the heart to tell her that Rick's is the only name on it so far. While Rick is over at the bike racks, Kathleen asks Caitlin, "What's the big idea letting Rick join the committee?" In case we'd forgotten everything anyone has said about Rick all season, Trish reminds everybody, "He's got an awfully bad reputation…"

Kathleen smugly announces that "I heard even his father disowned him!" Let's all just take a minute to bask in the breathtaking bitchiness of that statement, considering what actually happened between Rick and his father. I get a bit light-headed thinking about it.

"Where do you get these amazing stories?" asks Susie, sounding extra-sceptical in an attempt to cover up the fact that she completely fell for Kathleen's wild tales of lesbianism just four episodes ago. "He flunked," says Kathleen, "we know that's true. And remember all those bruises he used to have? I heard he got them from fights." I'm pretty sure at this point the character of Kathleen is actually just a metaphor for small-minded suburban repressiveness. It's a very effective one.

As if this discussion wasn't annoying enough already, Caitlin pipes up, "It's not his fault he's poor and disadvantaged!" Aw jeez, I mean, it's true, but did she have to say it like that? "What?" asks Kathleen, who obviously feels the poor have only themselves to blame.

Caitlin elaborates, becoming more and more patronising as she goes on: "I mean, so he gets bad marks in school, and people say he's dumb and stuff. But maybe that's because people don't give him a chance. We should give him a chance!"

"Sounds like a really stupid idea to me," says Kathleen. Yeah, giving people a chance is for losers! I have a feeling Kathleen will move to New York when she grows up, dye her hair black, and change her name to Margo Magee.

"Well I'm going to give him a chance," says Caitlin with painful sincerity. Kathleen just turns around in disgust and walks off. I almost admire her wholehearted commitment to being as horrible as possible at all times.

Meanwhile, Yick's walking around downtown. How long is the lunch break at this school, anyway? We see him pass a shop selling random Asiany ornaments, then run back to look in the window and stare at a cheapass vase. "That it!" he exclaims to nobody in particular. He runs into the shop, and because this show's budget won't cover a scene of him buying the vase, we just see a man's hand reach into the window display and take it away.

After lunch, we see Yick proudly showing the vase to Arthur. "It's been in my family for thousands of years," he claims. "It's very valuable. I forgot we had it." Um, yeah, valuable heirlooms are the most forgettable kind! "Your parents let you bring it to school?" asks Arthur, sounding impressed rather than suspicious. Again: nerd ≠ smart. "Um… they don't really know about it," says Yick, which is the one thing in his story that's true.

Arthur asks what dynasty the vase is. "Ming," says Yick, "or Manchu. I don't know. Both maybe!" Arthur says his father knows an antique dealer and they should get the vase appraised. "Maybe later," says Yick. "Anyway, the class will be impressed, right?" Only if they're as gullible as Arthur.

Mr Lawrence is on the PA again: "Would anyone who had the Tuna Surprise at lunch please see Nurse Silver before going home?" I hope they fired the school dietician.

Rick is heading downstairs when Caitlin calls him back. She tells him she's making an announcement tomorrow aboot the petition, and asks if he wants to help. "It's a great opportunity to get involved," she tells him, which is a fairly smooth come-on, but then she unfortunately keeps talking: "Don't worry, I'll do the writing and stuff." Burn.

Rick's down with being patronised, though, so they agree to go to her house and do some nonspecific announcement-related stuff.

After school, Yick and Arthur are cleaning up Ms Avery's classroom and making plans to play basketball afterwards. Yick sticks his bag (which contains the vase) precariously on the edge of Ms Avery's desk and goes off to leave some books back at the library. I can see where this is going! Because I'm smarter than Yick. Which admittedly isn't saying much.

Ms Avery has a "Quote of the Day" sign above the blackboard, which today reads "Honesty is the best policy." This is not one of the show's classier attempts at foreshadowing. Anyway, it's Arthur's job to change the sign, but because he failed in his efforts to become taller by stalking Snake, he's not tall enough to reach it. He is, however, stupid enough to jump up and down in front of the sign three times before realising that won't help.

Looking around for something to stand on, he wisely rejects Ms Avery's incredibly rickety swivel chair, and then, his quota of wise behaviour for the day already exceeded, yanks on her desk. Yick's bag, of course, falls off, and lands on the ground with a noise that sounds more like keys being rattled than a vase being smashed, but whatever. Just to make it extra clear what's happened, he opens the bag and pulls out a piece of smashed vase. I think the vase is smashed, you guys.

Meanwhile, as some badass synth electric guitar music plays in the background (as is usually the case during Rick scenes), Rick and Caitlin are standing outside a factory which is giving off lots of smoke. "The paper says there's all sorts of toxins coming from that factory," she expositions, then adds, "Oh… toxins are poisons." She sure knows how to show a guy a patronising time.

Rick tells a tale of working-class woe about how when he lived with his bad dad, they were near a factory, and they couldn't open their windows because the air smelled so bad. "That's awful," says Caitlin. "You should have gotten an air purifier." Ah, there's nothing like unhelpful advice that comes several months too late. Rick just points out that his dad, being working-class and all, couldn't afford one. Caitlin is horribly embarrassed.

Back at school, Yick's in the corridors, bouncing his basketball and pretending to be a sports commentator. I'm pretty sure this is just filler. When he comes back into the classroom, he sees that Arthur has scrawled on the board, "Yick – took vase to antique dealer." "Oh no," says Yick. The hijinks, they are ensuing.

Meanwhile, at Caitlin's house, the class-based awkwardness is ongoing. Rick pokes at the stereo before looking around and announcing, "Your parents must be rich." Caitlin says they're not, since they're teachers. Rick has some sort of emotional response to the fact that her parents are teachers, but due to the bad acting here I'm not sure if he's impressed or disgusted. Caitlin then admits that her mother is a vice-principal, and cheerfully continues to dig by asking Rick what his parents do. He explains that he doesn't get on with his dad (which is one way of putting it), so he lives with his brother, the godlike Frank, who's a bartender. "What about your mom?" asks Caitlin.

"She left," says Rick, only due to his accent it sounds much more like "she laughed", which makes no sense, either in the context of this conversation or in view of the fact that she was married to Rick's Bad Dad, which I'm guessing wasn't really a laugh a minute.

Clearly deciding that this whole "conversation" thing isn't going too well, Caitlin decides to start work on the announcement. "People everywhere need to be concerned with the problem of pollution," she drones. Rick, sounding terribly disappointed in her, says she sounds like a teacher. She looks pissed off and says nothing.

I'm temporarily distracted by the incredibly ugly '60s-style "sculpture" on the kitchen table; basically someone took a metal bar, twisted it out of shape, then convinced Caitlin's parents to pay money for it. And now they're advertising their idiocy by leaving this thing out where people can see it.

Anyway, Rick's rambling on about how all announcements sound the same, and they need something different to get people's attention. He turns to look at the cassette player, which is blaring out some weirdly bleak '80s electro-pop, then smiles. "I got an idea."

Next morning, Rick and Caitlin march into Doris Bell's office; Rick's carrying a ghetto blaster. Caitlin announces, in her usual morose tones, that they want to make an announcement on behalf of the Environmental Action Committee. Doris cheerfully hands over the microphone, and sits down to stare at what I think is a blank piece of paper, but quickly turns around in amazement when Rick starts playing some awful rap backing music.

And then Caitlin raps. About the environment.

There's a montage of all the other kids listening appreciatively to this atrocity (and even boogieing in some cases). The whole scene is one of the most cringeworthy things in the history of television; I can hardly bear to watch it. I certainly can't bear to watch it more than once, which is why I'm not reproducing the lyrics here.

Um, so somehow the rap has motivated everyone to sign the petition, and there's a second, needlessly protracted, montage of everyone signing, then signing some more. Kathleen, by the way, is predictably disgusted by the whole affair, and for once I'm with her.

The following day, Yick is at his locker when he spots Arthur. Arthur tries to run off, but Yick follows him, asking for his vase back. He then runs into the boys' bathroom, and finds Arthur's feet sticking out from under a cubicle door. Arthur is pretty bad at hiding, like he is at most things.

Yick asks again for his vase back, but Arthur says it's still being appraised and the antique dealer is nearly finished with it. "He says it's really interesting. He says he's never seen one quite like it." Yick looks perturbed, but eventually gets Arthur to promise he'll have it back by Friday.

The sound throughout this scene was dubbed in really badly, by the way, so that half the dialogue sounded all echoey and detached, like a voiceover flashback. It's really distracting.

Back in the club store-cupboard, Kathleen calls another meeting to order. Where did she get a gavel? Trish stands up and announces the first item on the agenda: a new name. Rick rolls his eyes, and Caitlin complains that they always talk about that, and what about the petition? "What about the petition?" Kathleen sneers.

Susie points out that they've got almost 200 signatures and they should take the petition to the factory, but Kathleen shoots her down: "Nobody's going to pay attention to a petition from a bunch of kids!" Rick gets all riled up, and asks, "How would you know, brainbox?" Caitlin, who's clearly decided she's his handler, tries to calm him down by saying he and Susie and herself will take it to the factory the next day. Rick refuses to be shushed: "It's called action! Doing something, ya know?" Oooh, working-class guys tell it like it is! Kathleen gives her default response: "Well, I say it's a stupid idea!" There's much glaring. Caitlin looks troubled, as is her wont.

That night, Arthur's at home listening to the radio. It's very dark. It's definitely night. He glumly empties the smashed vase onto his desk and picks up a bottle of glue. This will go well.

Cut to… earlier that afternoon. What the hell? Caitlin's sitting at her kitchen table with Susie. The sun is shining in the window. It's definitely daytime. "What do you think of Rick?" she asks. Susie reckons he's nice. "I think it's too bad people don't give him a break, though," says Caitlin. "Cause he's acting OK, don't you think? He was rude to Kathleen, but who could blame him?" It's a little too obvious that she's keeping score.

Susie snaps at this, and tells Caitlin to stop treating Rick like he's her experiment. Caitlin tries to deny it, but Susie insists she is. "Why don't you just admit you like him? There's nothing wrong with that, you know." Caitlin's fridge seems to have a bunch of Calvin and Hobbes cartoons stuck on the front. Wow, first Tina Turner and now this? It's like somebody who worked on this episode was actually vaguely aware of contemporary pop culture! Outrageous!

(Moreover, someone in the Ryan household has a sense of humour? Doubly outrageous!)

Caitlin insists that Rick isn't her type (if she's not careful, she'll start another round of lesbian rumours). "I'm just helping him, that's all," she lies like a lying thing. Susie doesn't believe her. Then they throw a paper towel at each other in an attempt to look light-hearted and playful.

Meanwhile, in the middle of the night (clearly they're making a brave stab at experimenting with non-linear narrative), Arthur's still trying to glue the vase together. It looks like crap. I mean, more so than before it got smashed. He gives up.

The following afternoon (I'm just guessing; really, who the hell knows at this point?), Caitlin and Susie and Rick are on their way to the factory. He is so cool and/or reckless and/or keen to get to the factory that he is mildly careless while attempting to cross the road; Caitlin puts her hand on his shoulder and shepherds him across. "Gritty" music plays (synth electric guitar AGAIN) while the kids gaze up at the factory. It is very big, as is usually the way with factories.

"Maybe we should just mail the petition," Caitlin meebles. Rick looks at her in disgust and stomps towards the factory. "Come on!" he yells when the girls are hesitant. Clearly he is keen to stick it to the man. Because he is working-class.

Also, I can't get over the boxiness of all the cars in the factory car park. Why did anyone ever think that was a good look?

Later, Rick and the girls are sitting in the factory's reception area. They're all wildly overacting in order to communicate that they've been there for a long time: lots of eye-rolling and watch-checking and ceiling-staring. Dial it down a bit, kids!

Some generically soulless office guy, who looks like David Miliband in giant novelty glasses, comes in and apologises for keeping them waiting. Thus rendering the elaborate "waiting" scene completely redundant.

Caitlin, who's wearing a truly horrible pink jumper that I think was handmade by a first-time knitter, tells the guy, "We're from Degrassi Junior High and we'd like your factories to stop polluting." Um… yeah, that sounds like a specific, achievable goal. Rick looks thoroughly unimpressed. The office guy smarms that they test their emissions regularly, and they're all within "the applicable Ministry guidelines".

Susie pipes up, "But the newspaper said that your tests were fake and that – " but the guy just talks over her: "Newspapers love good stories, but nothing has ever really been proven!" He doesn't quite finish with "Mwahahaha!", but it's heavily implied.

It's time for Rick to unleash his working-class rage on this guy. "Proof? This place stinks!" The guy insists that they've had no complaints. Rick stands up and shouts, "This is a complaint!" Tragically, he doesn't follow this up with a punch to the face, because that would have been really cool.

Caitlin looks mortified and tries yet again to shush Rick, but the men are talking now. "Are you the boss here?" Rick asks. The office guy stands up (towering over Rick, who might want to wait for puberty to really kick in before he starts his career as an agitator) and smirks, "The president's in a very important meeting right now, but if you'll kindly leave me your petition, I'll be sure that she gets it." Wait, the head of this evil corporation is a woman? Wow, we've really achieved equality with men now!

Rick says they'll wait, and sits down with his legs wide apart in an effort to appear manly and threatening. But again, he's about five foot tall, and fourteen years old, so the guy is not particularly threatened. "Thanks for dropping by!" he chirps. "It's really a pleasure to see young people like yourselves taking such an interest in the community." And off he goes, presumably to torture small woodland animals. Caitlin and Susie look politely befuddled, while Rick looks one minor annoyance away from turning into the Incredible Hulk.

As the gritty music blares again, the kids walk away from the factory. "You didn't have to be so rude," Caitlin admonishes Rick. "He was the one who was rude!" Rick retorts.

"He is going to show it to the president," says Caitlin, and hopefully by "it" she means the petition. Rick cannot believe how gullible she is. "Why not?" asks Caitlin. "He seemed honest." "And very friendly," adds Susie. "Gimme a break!" exclaims Rick. "He doesn't care what we think! What a jerk!" And then he storms off.

"At least we tried!" Caitlin calls out. "Big deal!" Rick yells. And then he kicks a can that was lying on the ground, because he is just that angry. Go Rick! Working-class guys tell it like it is! The gritty music plays once more, as Caitlin watches Rick and reflects on the apparent failure of her latest project.

Seriously, though, those girls are really stupid.

A little later, Kathleen and Melanie are coming out of the De Grassi Grocery just as Rick walks by, lighting a cigarette. "Stupid factory," he mutters to himself. Kathleen watches him smoking for a minute, then looks smugly delighted.

It's the next day, and Kathleen is calling yet another meeting to order. Wow, these kids really like holding meetings. Trish starts up with the agenda, and the committee name is the first item on the list, as always. Yawn. Kathleen butts in and says that they have something more important to talk about: whether Rick should be on the committee any more. "What?" says Caitlin, full of righteous indignation. She can turn it on and off like a switch.

"I saw him smoking a cigarette," explains Kathleen. "Really?" says everyone. Considering how bad Rick is at hiding his habit, I don't know why everyone is so surprised. "Isn't it kind of hypocritical to be a smoker and on the Environmental Action Committee?" asks Kathleen. Look, I hate smoking, but her argument doesn't make any damn sense.

Caitlin is looking at Rick like she just heard he's been engaging in trade with apartheid South Africa. "Rick?" she asks in horror. "So I had a smoke! So what?" Rick protests. "I wasn't hurting anyone." "That's what he thinks," says a random voice. Caitlin sinks back into her seat, looking utterly crushed.

"It's the principle!" says Kathleen. "We can't have a polluter on an anti-pollution committee! Rick has to go." At this, Rick jumps up, all full of rage again. "What a bunk of jerks!" he yells, although last time I checked, Kathleen was just one jerk. "Call yourself action committee? What action? All you ever do is talk! Who needs this garbage?" As opposed to some other, more needed, garbage. Trish dutifully writes down what he's saying; never let it be said that she is not a devoted club secretary. Rick storms out, thumping all the lockers out in the corridor, because he's just! That! Angry!

Back in the club room, Kathleen tells Caitlin to face the fact that she made a mistake and can't be perfect all the time. Then they go back to debating the club's name. Caitlin, yet again, looks tormented, and there's more gritty music.

Afterwards, everyone's heading out for lunch, and they pass Rick in the corridor. Kathleen turns up her nose, and Susie gives him that awkward smile people give you when they want to tell you, as politely as possible, to fuck off and never bother them again. Last of all is Caitlin. "What a bunch of do-gooders, eh?" says Rick. Caitlin tells him to get away from her. "You made me look dumb! I stood up for you! They said you were stupid and I said you weren't! But they were right. And after I tried to help you and everything!" Ouch.

"Help me?" asks Rick. "What am I, your project or something? Anyways, I helped you! I thought up the announcements, I went to the factory, I made you go in. So I'm not rich like you, so I don't do too good in school – that doesn't make me a charity case." Caitlin listens with growing horror, and by the end is so beaten down that she doesn't even think to tell Rick that he doesn't do too well in school, not "too good".

On his way out the door, Rick turns to deliver the death blow: he only joined the committee because he liked Caitlin, not because he wanted help. The theme tune plays, very slowly, so you know it's a very sad moment. You've screwed up badly, Caitlin. And you only get one chance with Rick Monroe.

Oh hey, the subplot! Yick's rummaging through a pile of locker crap, as usual. Arthur appears, and reluctantly shuffles over to talk to him. Yick demands his vase, and Arthur tentatively shows him the crappily glued wreckage. Yick gets mad because he won't have anything to show when he talks to the class. "Just tell them how you and your family got here," says Arthur. "It's a great story, and it really happened!" Yick storms off, to inappropriately perky music.

By the next scene, however, he's completely come around to the idea somehow. He gives his speech to the other kids about how his family were at sea for more than a month, dodging pirates and so on, and how he doesn't have anything to show because they couldn't bring anything with them. Everyone's all moved, and applauds him, and Susie's NASA emblem has been well and truly one-upped, and Ms Avery even puts her hand on his shoulder.

But Rick doesn't care, because he's got problems of his own. He angsts off downstairs, watched by Kathleen and Caitlin (who's wearing a headband again; headbands will soon become as much a part of her character as meddling and middle-class guilt). "Our community just wasn't appropriate for someone like Rick," says Kathleen, then announces she's thought of a new name: "The Degrassi Junior High Anti-Pollution and Pro-Environmental Action Committee". Caitlin turns around and calls Kathleen a jerk. I'm pretty sure the script then called for her to storm off down the stairs, but instead she just kind of meanders slowly down, pausing here and there for a glance around, and the scene trails off. Nice.

Back in the classroom, everyone's just about finished fangirling Yick. Once the others are gone, Arthur comes over and hands him some money, and promises to give him his pocket money forever, then get a job and give him his salary until the vase is paid for. Yick hesitates, then gives Arthur the money back, and admits that he bought the vase and "it's not a family hair-loom or anything". I can't tell if that's a deliberate joke or if nobody bothered to tell the poor kid how to pronounce "heirloom".

Anyway, they yell at each other for lying, then smile and go off to be stupid somewhere else, where I don't have to watch them.

After school, Caitlin comes over to Rick at the bike racks. He asks her what she wants, and she apologises for being spectacularly patronising, then tells him that smoking is really stupid. Plus ça change. Rick just gives his standard brush-off response: "Yah, yah." So… I guess he'll just keep smoking, then.

After a pause, Caitlin also admits that he was right about the evil factory guy not listening to them, then angsts about how she wishes there was something they could do. Rick suggests telling the paper about what happened, in order to stir up some publicity. Which just might work, if there's a reeeeeally slow news day any time soon.

Caitlin grabs Rick and gives him a platonic kiss, so far from his mouth that it's practically on the back of his head. "You're brilliant!" she exclaims. Rick looks theatrically around, and then shushes her. "I have a reputation," he says. Awww.

And yet again, the closing credits play over an unbelievably unflattering still of one of the Degrassi kids. Sadly, it seems smoking has already ravaged Rick's teeth. Shane would be delighted.

Dubious lessons of the week: Class-based rage and abuse-based trauma are best channelled into low-level environmental activism. Smoking is totally bad for you, had you heard? Horrible childhood experiences of persecution and displacement make really good anecdotes afterwards, so there's always that.

Sunday, September 13, 2009

S01 E09 – What a Night

Lucy is strolling oh-so-casually around the world's most depressing clothes shop. La la la, walk walk walk. She stops in front of a large, portentous sign reading "Shoplifters will be prosecuted", and peruses a pile of scarves. They're her trademark kind of sparkly scarves, the ones everyone apparently found so scandalous in '80s Canada. She takes a purple one off the top of the pile, casts an incredibly unsubtle look around to make sure nobody's watching her, and stuffs it in her bag. Issue of the Week firmly established, we go straight to the opening credits.

Next day, in school, Mr Raditch is announcing an upcoming spelling test. Among the words they have to learn are "dolt", "funeral", and "salad". How stupid are these kids? Also, the words "government", "neurosurgeon", "nocturnal", "balcony", and "quiche" all somehow appear in the kids' reading assignment for the week. That sounds like fascinating, confusing reading.

In the back of the class, Steph's reading a soap magazine. When the bell rings, she leaps up out of her chair, but Raditch points and her and snaps, "Wait!", like an infinitely less perky and benign version of the woman who sings the theme song. Anyway, he's just keeping them on after the bell to exposition about how utterly, life-changingly important this spelling test is. Close-up on Lucy, looking bored, and Voula, watching her with a strange yearning. Hey, I've never seen Voula with any men! Let's start a witch-hunt!

Once Raditch finally dismisses the class, Voula runs over to tell Lucy how fabulous her scarf is. It's the one she stole earlier. "What, this old thing?" asks Lucy, who's also wearing a gigantic shirt which has tails, like a man's shirt, only no man's shirt would have such a horrible floral pattern on it, so I have no idea who this monstrosity is actually intended for. Before they can leave, Raditch calls Lucy back. "He's such a faaascist," she whispers to Voula. Yeah, calling people back after class was one of Mussolini's lesser-known crimes, but it really irritated the Italian populace after a while.

Out in the corridor, Steph's excited about some plan or other, but Heather says they have study period, and should, uh, study. Steph says someone will be keeping watch in case "Baxter" turns up, and doesn't Heather want to see "Damon King"? The girls swoon over this Damon King guy, and go into the library.

Back in the classroom, Lucy is giving Mr. Raditch a run for his money in the stinkeye department. He cuts to the chase: her marks are crap lately, and what's going on? Are there problems at home? Wow, that's original. Lucy says everything's fine, and she's probably just going through a phase. Raditch says she'd better start a new phase, or "you're going to jeopardise your entire year", which seems to be Canadian for "you might fail and get kept back", rather than "everyone in your year will die horribly if you don't learn to spell". But I could be wrong – maybe Canadian schools are really hardcore, and use decimation as a punishment? Anyway, Lucy's not interested in having this conversation, so eventually Raditch reluctantly lets her go. Faaaascist.

In the library, everyone's watching TV, which is what Steph was so excited about before. Wow, TV! Specifically, they're watching a soap called "Days of Passion", Canada's answer to "Invitation to Love". We see a brief clip of the show, and it's fantastic, seeing as it has even lower production values than Degrassi itself. Some horribly ugly mulleted guy (the Damon King the girls were squeeing over earlier), and an emotionless woman with '80s Playboy Playmate hair, are discussing their forbidden love; there is much bandying about of lines like "If only we were free to follow our hearts!" and "We can't do this to Amanda and Harvey!" and even "Hush, my sweet." "Amanda", of course, is in a coma, because broadcasting laws state that all soaps must have at least one character in a coma at all times.

Nearly all the girls in the library are completely enthralled by this, especially Steph and the twins, who make loud fangirl noises every time the hideous mulletman is on screen. Joey and Wheels, at the back of the room, are mocking the whole thing, and being pretty entertaining. Voula, who presumably isn't allowed watch TV due to her parents being ethnic, is working quietly in the corner. Lucy comes in and sits beside her, and bitches about Raditch. "I don't have to worry. I don't need spelling. I'm gonna be a dancer," she announces. Solid strategy there; can't see how that could backfire. Voula, a little starstruck by Lucy's seditious Raditch-bashing, offers to coach her in spelling anyway, and Lucy looks kind of touched.

Over by the TV, Steph announces that she's going to meet Damon King, and pulls out her soap magazine, which has an ad for a book signing he's doing tomorrow. The twins agree to go along with her. Even Heather!

Just then, Alexa, who's keeping guard at the door, announces that "Baxter's coming!". Erika turns off the TV, and everyone hastily pretends to be studying. In comes the mysterious Ms Baxter, who I think we've briefly glimpsed before, but who will never actually be seen to teach a class or anything, because the show's budget won't cover it. She sits down to supervise the study class. Lucy whispers to Voula that she would like help with her spelling, after all. Because Lucy is just that lonely.

Later, at Lucy's, they're going over spellings, and Lucy is not that good. She whinges that it's boring, and Voula says she just has to keep practicing. "No I don't," says Lucy. "It's my right to flunk if I want to." I like Lucy, but her whiny sense of entitlement is really irritating sometimes.

Just then, the phone rings, and Lucy goes to answer it. It's her mother, to say she'll be working late. Oh, and Dad's working late too, but that whole side of things is downplayed, because careers are normal for men. Lucy sounds suicidally depressed at this news, but I'm sure she doesn't really mind, since she previously swore to Mr. Raditch that everything was fine at home. Right? Right?

Once she hangs up, she decides that she's sick of studying, and that there's no problem in life that can't be solved with a healthy dose of denial and… a makeover! She drags Voula off to her room, and starts throwing her clothes to try on. Voula protests geekily, but is powerless in the face of Lucy's slightly manic enthusiasm, and eventually breaks into a nervous, nasal giggle.

Meanwhile, the Advanced Unwise Behaviour group are on the way home, wildly excited about tomorrow's book signing. Erika is pretending to be Damon King, telling a faux-swooning Steph that "the moment I saw you, I knew we were meant for each other. Now, I know you're only fourteen, but what does age matter?" It actually matters quite a lot, as we are soon to find out. Anyway, the point of this scene is: Steph is fourteen, and fourteen-year-old girls think relationships with men in their late thirties are totally romaaaantic.

Back at Lucy's, the makeover is in full swing. Voula's now wearing too-large leopard-print leggings, a black tank top, and a little tiger-print scarf. "It's not the usual me, that's for sure," she understates. Lucy drags her to the mirror and ties the scarf around her neck so it looks a bit like a man's tie. "That's nice!" says Voula in the high-pitched voice of a bad, bad liar. She then adds, "I wish I had more interest in clothes," which (since it implies that this whole makeover is a waste of time) seems weirdly passive-aggressive; but hey, it's Voula. Lucy offers to lend her some stuff, but Voula says that her parents won't let her be sophisticated. I really don't think parental disapproval is the only thing preventing her from being sophisticated.

"My parents are perfect," says Lucy offhandedly. "They buy me everything I want. And they're always working, so they're never around here to bug me." "Don't you get lonely?" asks Voula. Lucy looks enormously uncomfortable, then claims that she's "self-sufficient". The phrase "not just a river in Egypt" springs to mind. The girls smile awkwardly, and then Lucy tries to make Voula try on another outfit. Voula says she has to go home, and Lucy practically begs her to stay for dinner. Very self-sufficient of her. Voula just shakes her head sadly, and Lucy advances on her, frantically insisting that her mother is a gourmet cook and "takes classes and stuff", but Voula backs away and says that Papa Stalin is expecting her home. That bread won't slice itself! "Boooring," snarks Lucy, who is not at all jealous of Voula's smothering home life. Not even a little bit. Tra la la.

Of course, a good mother wouldn't need to take cookery classes, because she would actually be home to cook every night, instead of gallivanting off to meetings and mergers and whatnot! Fancy-schmancy gourmet cookery is no substitute for proper dutiful housewifery.

A little later, Voula's leaving, dressed in her peasant outfit. Lucy thanks her for the help with her spelling, then gives her the stolen scarf from earlier. Voula is utterly overjoyed to wear something that wasn't previously owned by her grandmother back in the old country. "Keep it for as long as you like," says Lucy, "I've got lots." Or at least she knows where to steal more. Voula heads off into the night, and Lucy stares after her with inexpressible longing. Because she is lonely.

Just then the phone rings. Lucy goes back in to answer it, looking ridiculously excited. But she just gets her heart broken, and not for the first time, as her mother is still tied up at work – "You know what these deals are like!" she declares chirpily, because she is a callous businesswoman. She then tells Lucy that there's some sushi in the fridge, which sounds pretty good, but it's the last straw for Lucy. She shuffles sadly over to the fridge and takes out the sushi, bravely wiping away a single tear. Because she is lonely. Because her mother has a career.

Next day, Mr Raditch is giving the spelling test. Lucy and Voula exchange a smile, because Lucy is totally kicking the ass of this test, even though she quit halfway through their only study session to tart Voula up. Whatever.

When the bell goes, Raditch announces that he'll have their tests marked after lunch, and everyone gets up to leave. Lucy enthuses some more about how studying totally, like, made her know stuff, and Voula is anaemically supportive as ever.

Cut to Steph and the twins. Steph is skanked up to the max, wearing a geometric-patterned boob tube and a miniskirt that's on back to front. Heather, in accordance with her contractual obligations, is insisting that going to the book signing is a bad idea for some reason, but this is pretty much just filler dialogue while Steph gets her stuff out of her locker. Then they head out the door for an exciting afternoon in a bookshop.

The bookshop… oh dear lord. There's the most amateurish poster EVER outside; it proclaims that "TV's hottest soap star", "King of Hearts Damon King", is signing his new book, "Confessions of a Soap Star!!". Yes, the exclamation marks are part of the title. The poster's in black-and-white, including a really bad photocopy of Damon King's face, but has been lazily coloured in here and there with a marker that was running low on ink. Better yet, when the girls arrive and go into the shop, we see some copies of the book in the front window, and the cover is just a smaller version of the poster. Crappy colouring-in and everything. Best of all: the books are clearly stacked in a Random House branded display case. I feel terribly sorry for Random House, who probably never knew why their share prices tumbled so dramatically all of a sudden.

Inside, the shop is piled high with copies of Damon King's book. The man himself is at a table, being charming with a middle-aged woman who's telling him what a big fan she is. He sleazily kisses her on the hand as she tells him, "You look so adorable." Adorable is not quite the word. He is wearing a blazer made out of that heavy white material with Regency-style pastoral scenes which is usually used to make couch-covers.

The girls come in, and stop to ogle him. "He looks just like on TV!" sighs Erika. That's not really a good thing, considering what he looks like on TV. Steph goes over to the table and hits Damon King with the full power of her Flirting Grin. Apparently the man is majorly into uneven teeth, because he wiggles his eyebrows and growls, "Hi there," in what is presumably supposed to be a languid, sexy voice, but actually sounds more like he's had a few Valiums (Valia?).

Steph explains that she can't afford to buy a copy of his book, but will he sign her TV Guide? Damon looks her up and down, then up and down again, then once more just to be sure, lingering around the boob tube area, then signs the magazine. In the background, Erika eagerly wonders if he'll kiss Steph. From the way he's mentally undressing her, I'd say we can be fairly sure of the answer. Behind Erika, we can see a woman with an eye patch who I'm sure appears later (minus eye patch) as Kathleen's mother. Low-budget TV, how I love thee.

"How old are you, Stephanie?" asks Damon. She hesitates a second, then says she's sixteen. "Sweet sixteen," he muses in a "nice and legal, eh?" voice, looking her up and down a few more times. He then adds something to the autograph, and hands back the magazine. "You know, Stephanie," he breathes, "one autograph, one kiss. That's my policy." A policy that must prove awkward during things like contract signings. He leans over and kisses her on the cheek, displaying the full mightiness of his hideous mullet in the process.

Steph looks briefly shocked, but runs over to the twins and squees that she'll "never wash this cheek again", which, ew. Heather, always on the lookout for something to disapprove of, looks at the autograph and realises that Damon King has written down his phone number. Steph looks back at him, and he nods and winks at her, and I did not know a nod and wink could be so very, very disgusting. AAAAAURGH. As the girls leave, the camera zooms in on one of the Damon King posters, and he totally has the face of a killer.

After the break, everyone's back in class, and somehow the girls made it to the book signing and back in time to get their spelling test results. Thrilling. Heather did well, but Erika did badly, and gives Raditch a look of utter loathing. Because she's the mildly cool twin. Raditch tells Joey that "I didn't realise you knew Swahili." Joey looks like he completely doesn't get the joke, but everyone laughs at him, so he gets the general idea. Seemingly, Raditch didn't really learn his lesson about publicly mocking students. And Lucy, of course, wins at literacy.

Raditch then gives some closing remarks about spelling, but while he talks, he's gathering up his stuff, looking at his watch, and pacing nearer and nearer to the door. The instant the bell rings, he yanks open the door and makes a run for it, actually doing a little air-punch on the way out. Cute.

Steph and the twins are first out the door, and Heather's already in mid-lecture about how calling Damon King would be really, really stupid. "He gave me his number, why shouldn't I call him?" says Steph, displaying the impeccable reasoning skills we've come to love her for.

Meanwhile, Lucy's totally psyched about her newfound spelling skills. "I passed and it's all thanks to you!" she tells Voula. "You helped me, now I'm going to help you. Let's go get you some new clothes!" Voula, who's still wearing Lucy's scarf, says she doesn't have any money. "Don't worry about it!" says Lucy. "You want new clothes, don't you?" Note: a line like that is never, ever a good sign. Voula protests, but Lucy's not taking no for an answer.

As ominous bass music thrums in the background, Steph and the twins walk towards a phone box. "I don't think you should do this," grumps Heather, who is no less annoying just because she's the only one with any common sense. Steph and Erika squee over the dubious hotness of Damon King; when Heather points out that he only wants Steph's body, Steph views that as a major plus.

As Steph goes into the phone box and dials (dials! on a dial!), the twins stand outside and make various in-character comments on the situation, e.g. "I don't believe this." "Neither do I." "This is so romantic." "This is so dumb." "Don't be such a prude." "I am not a prude!" Steph, meanwhile, gets through to Damon King, who clearly has nothing to do but sit by the phone waiting for bouffant-haired schoolgirls to call. When she gets out of the phone box, she announces, "A date! Tonight! He's gonna show me how a TV studio works!" Is that what they're calling it these days?

"Isn't it kind of dumb going out with some strange man?" asks Heather, the annoying voice of reason. Erika insists, "This is not a strange man – this is a TV star!" Heather points out that they don't know anything about him (should have shelled out for a copy of his autobiography!). "Sure we do!" chirps Steph. "We watch him on TV all the time! I read about him! I feel like I practically know him!" Heather continues to list very reasonable objections to this whole thing (he's too old; "showing you how a TV studio works" is the most made-up excuse for a date ever), but Erika insists she's just jealous, and Steph says she can take care of herself. I'm not sure what she's basing this on.

And from the amount of time this show just devoted to debating the pros and cons of dating a random celebrity, I have to assume the writers actually thought this was a genuine hazard that the youth of today (well, yesterday) needed to be warned about at length. What the hell? Was this a particular thing back in 1987?

Meanwhile, Lucy and Voula are in the clothes shop where Lucy stole the scarf. Voula's blown away by the stuff on offer, being still new to the wonders of capitalist free markets. Lucy says that she shops there a lot, but I'm not sure it counts as shopping if you actually just steal things. As Voula peruses something which she calls a tape, but comes in a box that's nearly a foot long (anyone know what this is? because I'm genuinely stumped) Lucy ostentatiously looks around and steals a necklace, then drags Voula off to look at sweaters.

They start going through the fugly sweatshirts on the sale rack. Voula says that the first one looks like something her mother would buy, and granted it's ugly, but it still looks ten times better than Voula's peasant dresses. People in glass houses and all that. She then likes the look of another sweatshirt, but Lucy witheringly tells her that these are "clone clothes". Ouch.

Voula goes over to look at another rack, then picks out a cardigan. It's just… just awful. It's a huge lumpy-looking V-neck, with a geometric pattern in navy and suicide green, with a big black collar and button band, and randomly strewn glitter. But, because the '80s make no sense, Lucy, the "stylish" one, declares that it's nice. Voula can't afford it, so Lucy promptly takes the cardigan off the hanger and shoves it in her bag. "What are you doing?" squeaks Voula. "Sssh! Be casual," orders Lucy. Behind her, a middle-aged woman in a purple sweatshirt gives her a stinkeye worthy of Raditch.

"Put it back!" hisses Voula, but Lucy insists that no-one saw them, in which case why is the middle-aged woman looking at them like they're the spawn of Satan? As Lucy drags Voula towards the escalator, the woman pulls out a walkie-talkie, and then extends its aerial, which is nearly a metre long. It is not what you'd call subtle.

Lucy and Voula march through the shop, Voula whispering that it's wrong, wrong, wrong! I don't know why she cares so much; as her father would tell her, all property is theft anyway. Lucy insists that it doesn't matter, and shops expect to lose stuff, and she doesn't quite say that she's sticking it to the man, but it's heavily implied. As they get on the escalator, she tells Voula not to be such a wimp, and Voula snaps, "I'm not a wimp, you're a thief!" The two facts are really not mutually exclusive.

Lucy gives her the bag, and huffily tells her to take the cardigan back, since she's so big on law and order, but Voula's scared someone will see. "Come on, Voula, no-one cares!" says Lucy, just as a security guard appears at the top of the escalator, and by the look of him, I'd say he cares. The girls try to run back down the escalator, but there's a shop assistant at the bottom, glaring at them with a Face Of Doom. The girls stop running, and are promptly escalated back up to the security guard. He smarmily takes the bag, and escorts them off to wherever security guards escort shoplifters to.

Meanwhile, Steph's standing outside a record shop, dressed for her date. You can tell she's in a bad neighbourhood because there's a siren wailing in the background.Her hair is frizzed and sprayed to within an inch of its life. She's wearing the pink leggings from her ill-fated date with Wheels, some random see-through glittery piece of fabric hanging over her ass, and a bomber jacket, because otherwise this outfit would just be slutty. Some middle-aged guy comes out of the shop and stares at her lasciviously as he walks away, but she doesn't notice.

Just then, Damon King pulls up in a white two-seater, and tells her to "hop aboard". Never trust a man who uses expressions like "hop aboard". She briefly looks nervous, but gets in, first casting a shifty look around in exactly the style of a hooker ineptly trying to be discreet. He looks her up and down in an even sleazier manner than before, and pervs, "Let's you and me go have some fun." Off they go, nearly colliding with a tram that looms out of the darkness at the last minute.

Lucy and Voula are in an office, sitting in front of a security guard who looks even more depressed than they do. She pulls the ugly jumper out of Lucy's bag, and dronily moralises, "What's the matter with you kids? Don't you think shoplifting matters? The store has to pay for the things you steal, which means they have to raise their prices and people have to pay more." At the start of this speech, she sounds soulless and apathetic, but then suddenly switches moods, sounding incredibly angry and embittered by the end. It's sort of impressive to screw up a short line so comprehensively, in two completely different ways.

Lucy rolls her eyes, and Voula looks like she might vomit. The security guard, back to a soulless monotone, speculates that they'll "be singing a different tune when the police arrive". Ooh, badass. Voula freaks out even more at the mention of the police, but Lucy tells her that if they pretend to be sorry, they won't get charged and won't have to go down to the station. Voula realises that Lucy's suspiciously familiar with police procedure, and asks if she's been caught before, at which Lucy gets pretty offended. She's not usually nearly this bad at stealing!

Just then, a policeman (who looks about 17; bad casting, or am I just getting old?) comes in. "Well well," he says to Lucy, "you again! And I see you've brought a friend with you this time." Voula realises she's been hanging with a hardened, hamfisted criminal, and gives Lucy her best guilt-trip stare, last seen during the school's presidential election.

Stephanie and Damon are driving past a bunch of motels. Not the family-friendly, 1950s kind of motels; the kind with hookers outside. There are, in fact, some hookers standing on the footpath. This show is aimed at what age group again?

Damon pulls in outside one of the motels. Steph looks around blankly. Her expression might be supposed to show slowly dawning horror, or complete incomprehension. It's Stephanie; it's hard to tell. Anyway, she eventually realises that this probably isn't a TV studio. Damon's non-explanation: "Why don't we stop for a bit? And talk?" Steph looks appropriately horrified, but insists she's not afraid, she just isn't that fond of Toronto's grimy motel disrict. Damon tries to persuade her that "this is a nice place"; I think he just underestimated Stephanie Kaye's intelligence and good taste. That takes some doing. And just in case you thought his "moves" couldn't get any more dodgy, he actually sprays his mouth with mouth spray – the international symbol for creepiness.

Leaning vampirically towards her, he repeats an earlier line from his TV show: "I think you and I have a lot in common… I really do." His sincerity is somewhat undermined by the fact that he's just put one hand around her, and the other on her thigh. Steph decides that enough is enough, and demands to be taken home NOW, but he just growls, "Come on, Stephanie. You know what this is all about." EW.

Steph leaps out of the car and starts to run, with impressive agility for someone in three-inch heels. Damon tries to follow, but she yells at him to stay away. He literally tries to shush her, but when he gets closer and puts his hands on her shoulders, she tells him the truth: "I'm not really sixteen. I'm fourteen years old." Hilariously, he literally backs away, looking around to make sure there are no paparazzi lurking, then turns and runs, dives into his car and drives off, tyres screeching. "You'd better not touch me!" Steph yells redundantly at his departing form.

Um… something tells me that real-world perverts are not quite so easily deterred.

At the shop, Lucy's explaining to the policeman that it was all her fault. Neither Voula nor the policeman really give a crap, though. And off they all go to the police station.

Steph's in the motel lobby, calling her mother. "I've done something really stupid," she says. To which the natural response is: what's new? "Can you come and pick me up?" she asks. "I'm at a motel." She's been crying, and her mascara is all Gothy and smudged. So you know this is a serious, gritty scene.

Voula and Lucy are on a bench at the police station. Some guy goes by in handcuffs, and they both look at him nervously. I believe we're getting some kind of message about how crime is a generally bad idea.

Voula snaps, and rants about how it's all Lucy's fault, but when Lucy tries to apologise, Voula tells her, "Don't talk to me," in a magnificently pissy tone. Just then, Papa Stalin arrives at the front desk, with some plump woman who is presumably Mama Stalin. Papa Stalin tells the teenage cop that he's here for Voula, and both Stalins give the girls filthy glares while they wait.

Voula's oblivious to this, being in full-on rant mode: "I'm sorry I ever helped you! I used to think you were sophisticated, but you're just dumb!" There's a long, awkward pause while both girls realise Voula's run out of dialogue, then try to look like their silence is intentional and hastily put on sulky faces. FINALLY the teenage cop turns up, and tells Voula that her glowering parents are here. Lucy wishes her luck, but just gets glared at in response. As the family is reunited, we can just hear the Stalins laying a standard-issue ethnic guilt-trip on Voula: "You see what we have here? What have you done to us? Why you do this? Is it my fault? No more Lucy! No more Lucy for you! I told you Lucy is no good!" Ah, immigants.

Meanwhile, the teenage cop returns to Lucy and tells her he's having some trouble contacting her parents. "They're very busy," she says, full of poorly concealed bitterness. The policeman says he's going to have to charge her this time, and they go off to wherever policemen take you to be charged. As she leaves, Lucy casts a wistful look at the epic scolding Voula's getting. I bet Mama Stalin doesn't have a career! On the plus side, at least Lucy's high-powered parents should at least have ample money for bail, if and when they actually turn up.

Oh hey, happy music! We're back at school the next morning. That was… abrupt. Steph's telling the twins about her date, and just in case we hadn't got the message already, she informs them that "what looks good on TV can be pretty gross in real life". Okay, I GET it. Jeez. I won't go on any dates with minor TV stars. Are you satisfied now, Degrassi writers?

No, they're not satisfied, apparently: we're subjected to some rambling about "not getting into risky situations" and how Steph was "reeeeally lucky" that Damon King was an unusually law-abiding pervert. Her mother, by the way, was not all that angry after all, only backing up my theory that her alleged strictness is just invented by Steph so she can feel put-upon.

Voula is bustling resentfully down the corridor when Lucy calls out to her. Lucy is wearing a man's blue shirt, a denim sleeveless shirt over that, and a waistcoat made out of carpet. Which is reason enough to avoid her, as Voula promptly does; also, she's not allowed talk to Lucy any more (or, as it's said in ethnic-speak, "No more Lucy for you!"). Lucy just follows her and waffles at the back of her head about how it really was all her own fault, and she was dumb, and she has to go to court: "I guess I'm in a lot of trouble." This finally gets Voula's attention, and she asks how Lucy's oh-so-loose parents felt about the whole clusterfuck. I'm paraphrasing slightly.

"They said I was a spoiled brat after all they'd done for me. Maybe they're right," Lucy admits. Ok, Lucy's shoplifting is stupid and unnecessary and admittedly illegal, but seriously: why are all the parents on this show so unsympathetic? Their reactions to standard teenage mischief range from accusations of brattism, unpatriotic Westernisation, unpardonable tomboyism and/or skankitude to administering savage beatings (or, best-case scenario, admitting to social workers that they wished they could administer savage beatings). Lucy shrugs and walks morosely into Mr. Raditch's class, and when Voula follows her, she continues, "They said we have to take family counselling. My parents probably won't be able to find the time." Yeah, that's fair.

Her anger rapidly dissipating, Voula is looking at Lucy with the same look of yearning as before, and finally blurts out: "Listen, do you want any more help? Like in spelling or math or anything?" Not so much in shoplifting. "But I thought your parents said," begins Lucy in befuddlement. "I'll talk to them," says Voula brightly. "They'll understand when they stop being so mad." On past form, this is wildly unlikely, but clearly the writers needed some way to wrap up this episode.

"So… do you want any help?" asks Voula again. Lucy pauses, then breaks into a broad, ill-judged grin. In true Degrassi style, as the closing music starts, we freeze on a very unflattering shot of her braces.

Dubious lessons of the week: Children of high-powered parents will inevitably become illiterate, erratically-dressed delinquents. Tutoring a new friend in spelling is a sure-fire way to end up in trouble with the law. Celebrities are perverts.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

S01 E08 – Nothing to Fear

Morning. L.D. comes out of her house, eating a scone the size of a man's heart. She goes into a large garage, i.e. the kind where you take your car to be fixed, not the kind you have at your house. Nonsensical country music is playing on the radio – I've tried to decipher the lyrics, but all I can make out is "Your lips roasting at sunset, and bigger out what, you know what you gets it, you know what you got." Perhaps this is some obscure Canadian dialect, because it makes no damn sense in standard English.

Over at one end of the garage, L.D.'s dad and his garage minion are doing car stuff to a car, while L.D.'s dad smokes, which seems like a fire hazard to me, but what do I know? Also, this actor is a very unconvincing smoker. The garage minion tells "Mr. D" to look at what L.D.'s eating, and Mr. D mutters "marshmallows on toast" in a tone of deepest loathing. Which, again, makes no sense because, as I mentioned, she's in fact eating a gigantic scone.

L.D. comes over to say goodbye, and her dad asks if she's finished cleaning the kitchen yet. When she looks shamefaced, he says she has to do it right after school. Without opening her mouth properly, she mumble-lisps that he "promised I could fix Mr. Jeremiah's transmission". Her dad sexists irritably at her: "It's time you stopped monkeying around out here! You're thirteen years old! You're supposed to be turning into a lady! Now go, or you'll be late for school!" His voice has a ridiculous echo; I'm pretty sure his lines were actually dubbed in with a recording made in a giant underground cavern.

L.D. rolls her eyes and leaves, but before she's out of earshot, he shouts at her to get rid of her shocking, manly baseball cap: "You think your mother would let you wear a cap like that?" L.D. mutters "Drop dead" as she cycles away. And I think somebody is going to get an extra-large serving of irony any minute now.

(For those who are reading this without being overly familiar with the show: L.D. always wears a baseball cap. It's kind of her thing. She also wears check flannel shirts, even though she does not listen to grunge. That's how we know she's a tomboy. We've never actually seen her do anything tomboyish.)

As he tries to resume doing non-specific car stuff, Mr. D. suddenly grunts in distress, and clutches his left armpit. Yes, it's annoying when you suddenly realise you forgot to put on deodorant, but there's no need to over-react. Mr. D. sits on the floor, looking irate, and his garage minion runs off to call a doctor. This episode's themes of contentious tomboyism and parental heart attacks firmly established, it's time for the opening credits.

In school, Ms Avery (rocking a blue shoulder-padded power dress, yet another diamante belt, and career-woman neck scarf, with – in a brief departure from her usual left-wingitude – a giant hairdo reminiscent of Sarah Palin) is outlining some dumbass make-work project in which the kids have to split up into groups and map sections of the neighbourhood. Spike, L.D. and Voula are in a group together, and it seems they'll be mapping the area around a hospital. "I hate hospitals – they give me the creeps," says L.D., an utterance that will be in no way relevant to other events in this episode.

The project's due in on Friday, and L.D. doesn't think they can get it done on time, but Voula, young Stakhanovite that she is, says it'll be ok if they start today and work hard and so on. L.D., of course, has to clean the kitchen this afternoon, but the others say they can meet her afterwards. She complains that her dad was ok before her brothers moved out, but "now it's nag, nag, nag, like I'm supposed to be a little princess or something". Yeah, because princesses get nagged a lot? I guess? Also, given what happens in this episode and the complete absence of L.D.'s alleged brothers throughout, I stand by my theory that they don't exist. They are simply a delusion she's developed as an embodiment of the patriarchal forces that daily threaten to destroy her.

Voula mentions that her dad is pretty strict, but we all know that doesn't really count, because he's ethnic (and a former dictator) and it's expected of him. But we have a right to expect better of non-immigrant parents! L.D. continues to complain about how her dad won't let her do car stuff any more, and she's supposed to be a lady all of a sudden, and sometimes she wishes he'd get out of her life IRONY ALERT.

Meanwhile, Caitlin and Melanie are chatting about someone Melanie likes, and it is in fact Snake the Man-god, who's standing right behind them. Melanie, not even a little bit embarrassed by this, turns around and says a very grinny hello, and he says hello back, and it's all very awkward and cute.

And if you thought we were actually going to have a non-Yick-and-Arthur-related subplot for once, I have bad news for you. They're with Susie in the library, and she's berating them in her usual emotionless monotone: "'We'll be careful,' you said. 'We know how to take care of him,' you said." "Susie, be reasonable!" whines Arthur. "Reasonable? You want me to be reasonable?" snaps Susie, who for some reason seems to think that being reasonable is entirely beyond her abilities – which is actually true, at least when there's a supposed lesbian around.

Melanie comes in, sits down next to a large terrarium, and asks what's going on. "These guys left the top open. Amadeus is gone," says Susie. Melanie stares at the terrarium and explains to herself, and us, that Amadeus is "the snake", and was there seriously no less clumsy way for the writers to explain this situation to us? As Susie continues to rant at the boys, Melanie rambles to herself about how "Amadeus is loose in the school… slithering… slinking… waiting to crawl up somebody's leg… " Susie tells the boys to look for Amadeus, and they proceed to wander around the library calling his name. They truly are stupid: everybody knows the only person who can help them now is Barry White.

That afternoon, L.D. cycles back into the garage, where she's met by her dad's minion. He brings her up to speed in the least sensitive way ever: "Your dad's in the hospital… it's his heart, or something." Yeah, thanks for that, garage minion. Anyway, he gives L.D. a list of stuff her dad asked her to bring to the hospital for him, and in another show of diplomacy, observes that Mr. D was "grumpy as ever" and says that his health problems are all his own fault. He then struts off. Considering he doesn't actually seem to be trying to be an asshole, he's doing a remarkably good job of it.

Outside the school, Voula and Spike sit despondently on the steps. Voula's donned a gigantic, tourist-issue Aran sweater over her Russian peasant ensemble. Why wear one kind of lumpish Eurasian traditional outfit when you could can two at a time? "I bet L.D. won't show," says Spike. "I did a science project with her last year, remember? I ended up doing all the work." Voula points out that L.D. had the flu, but Spike darkly replies, "She's always got excuses."

Speaking of which, L.D. is at home, packing her dad's stuff. All the products in the bathroom are weirdly unlabelled, perhaps to compensate for the blatant product placement of three episodes ago. Also, her dad has apparently requested she bring him a huge pile of dishtowels.

As she puts some framed photos into a bag for him, she comes to a photo of a woman (presumably Mrs. D) with a baby (presumably the young L). And the show goes to a whole new level of manipulativeness, as we hear in voiceover Young L.D. asking her dad, "Why did they take Mummy to a hospital?" Flashback Voicover Mr. D explains that her mom's not feeling well, and she's gone to hospital so she can feel better, and he promises that her mom will be home soon. LIES.

Voula and Spike are still waiting, and eventually decide to phone L.D. Which, hilariously, actually entails getting up and going into the school to find a phone. Ugh, the old days! Also, why are Spike's tapered trousers always like an inch too short? For someone with such "outrageous" punk hair, her middle-aged spinster clothes are really incongruous.

In the garage, Mr. D's minion answers the phone (a rotary phone, with a real bell inside. Crazy) and gives the receiver to L.D. Voula nasally asks where she is, which is in fact a spectacularly stupid question considering they phoned her, on a landline. L.D. says she forgot to meet the others and offers no explanation, and pretty much hangs up on them. "I told you she's always got excuses," bitches Spike.

"Ready to come to the hospital?" asks the garage minion. L.D. looks terrified and says she's going to stay at home, since she still hasn't cleaned up the kitchen. Minion claims her dad would rather see her than a clean kitchen, but L.D. doesn't dignify this assertion with an answer, and says she'll visit him tomorrow if he's not out by then. Eventually, the garage minion gives in and heads off on his motorbike, and L.D. locks up the garage. Which, in place of a real shopfront, has yet another of those damn handlettered bubble-writing posters in the front window. Aaargh, the '80s!

Next morning, Arthur and Yick are in Doris Bell's office, making an announcement over the PA about the missing snake. As Arthur witters about how there's no need to worry, because Amadeus is "friendly, for a snake, and not at all poisonous", we see Melanie clump into school in a pair of tight jeans, which have been tucked into a huge pair of boots (I think they're ice skates with the skatey bit removed) and then heavily masking-taped around the ankles. She anxiously checks her locker for snakes, and in the background we see Joey grab Snake and yell, "I got the snake!" Well, at least we got that inevitable joke out of the way quickly.

In an unnecessary bit of exposition, Alex asks Melanie what's the deal with her boots, and she explains that it's an anti-snake precaution. Alex smirks and walks off. Melanie then says hello to Snake, who answers, "Nice boots, Melanie." But, you know, not meanly enough to disrupt the cuteness of their hamfisted flirting.

Later, in the gym, the girls are warming up. L.D. comes over to Voula and Spike and, lest we briefly forget that she is a tomboy, declares, "Thank goodness for gym, eh? Only place in the whole school that's comfortable!" Spike snarks at her about not turning up yesterday. Voula (who's not wearing her glasses, and would actually be quite pretty if not for her enormous eyebrows) says that there's lots more to do, and L.D. should come along today.

L.D. says she can't, and Spike totally loses it: "You think it's fair that we have to do all the work? Why don't you help for a change?" Eventually, L.D. does the sensible thing and actually explains that her dad's in the hospital. Suitably mortified, Spike and Voula apologise and say she doesn't have to help with the project. L.D. looks tormented. The background music is incongruously cheery.

After school, Snake and Wheels are chatting about the snake. "I heard it's in the girls' washroom," says Wheels. "So stay out of there, ok?" "Yeah, all right," says Snake, like he totally would hang around in there under normal circumstances, but if there's a snake in there he'd better stay away for a day or two.

L.D.'s heading home too, and everyone is sending their best wishes to her dad. Which is something I think most young teenagers would be waaaay too embarrassed to do. Joey, of all people, comes up to her and gently says, "Tell him Joey said to stay cool," without even asking if she'd be a doll and hurry up with his dad's transmission. As L.D. cycles off, we hear Steph and Lucy talking about how the snake is in the boys' washroom. Hilarity!

At home, L.D. goes into the garage, where her dad's minion is under a car, you guessed it, doing car stuff. She nervously goes up to him, carrying some flowers wrapped in cellophane. He's glad that she's evidently going to visit Mr. D, "but don't let him talk you into getting him more cigarettes – he tried that on me". Mr. D clearly does not learn.

L.D. sits down on the garage floor, a manly act which her father would almost certainly disapprove of, and asks the garage minion how long he's had his own apartment, and what it's like living alone. Minion says it's pretty rad most of the time, there's nobody telling him what to do, but sometimes he gets so lonely he has to put the TV on the kitchen table "so I won't have to eat alone". There's a nice little snapshot of bleak urban alienation for you, folks.

But, on the other hand, at least garage minion is not a tragic orphan: his parents live around the corner and he can go there for dinner whenever he wants. L.D. looks crushed, reckoning that if her dad dies and she is thus tragically orphaned, she probably won't be able to depend on Mom Minion for some home-cooked meals. You could always go live with your brothers, L.D. Oh wait.

Eventually, Minion realises the point of this conversation, and tries to reassure L.D. that her dad isn't dying, but she's not really convinced. She's also horrified to learn that Minion can't go to the hospital with her, because "Mr. Jeremiah's screaming for his car back". Wow, Mr. Jeremiah is in fact less classy than Joey. That takes some doing. Also, Minion is brandishing a lightbulb in his hand and somehow making it light up, which is a nifty trick. Looking distinctly ill, L.D. sets off for the hospital.

Next we see her outside the hospital, with some ominous bass strumming in the background. She shuffles into the building, and I think she's meant to look scared but she really just looks disgusted by all the sick people. Again, and with some extra echo effects, we hear Flashback Voicover L.D. asking her dad why Mummy's gone to the hospital, and Flashback Voiceover Mr. D saying that Mummy will be fine and hospital is where people go to get well. LIES. Oh yeah, just in case you hadn't noticed, L.D. has hospital-related trauma issues. There are also some super-creepy surrealist whooshing sounds in the background, yet again adding a vaguely Lynchian feel to proceedings.

Eventually, L.D. panics and gives the bunch of flowers to a receptionist, asking for them to be sent up to her dad ("Mr. Delacorte"). The receptionist is another inexplicably English dame, like the bra lady from a few episodes back, and what is it with this show and its weird old English women? L.D. scuttles out of the hospital, nearly wrenching the too-slow automatic doors open with her bare hands, another act of masculinity which her father would disapprove of. Commercial break.

Some time later, L.D. is standing across the road from the hospital. She goes into a phone booth and, in a scene that is surely stretched out unnecessarily, slooowly phones her dad. As they talk, we see him sitting in his hospital bed, from the neck down only, interspersed with shots of the stuff on his bedside table. It makes the scene creepy and mysterious for no reason. Was the actor briefly unavailable or something, so they filled in with some randomer and hoped we wouldn't notice? Because… it's pretty noticeable.

Anyway, L.D. asks her dad how he is, and he says he'll be fine (the camera pans over the framed photo of the late Mrs. D, to remind us of his track record as a LIAR in these matters) but he needs some more tests. When he asks why L.D. didn't call up to see him, she tells him that she had to go work on the mapping project, and her friends are waiting for her right now. Hm, seems like being a LIAR is a family trait.

Anyway, they say goodbye, and as a parting shot, Mr. D. asks, "How's that kitchen? You cleaned it yet? I don't want to get home and find it a mess." Patriarchal brute. We finally see his face at the very end, looking sad and lonely, and I still have no idea what the hell was going on with this scene.

Next morning, in school. Yick, Arthur and Susie are sneaking down into the school basement, with a big cardboard box, and I get an unpleasant sense that some wackiness is imminent. The kids bicker over whether the snake is likely to be in the basement: Arthur says yes, because snakes are cold-blooded so Amadeus is probably keeping warm in the boiler room, while Yick says no, because he doesn't understand what "cold-blooded" means. The cardboard box has some leaves taped to the corners, and crude drawings of grass, snakes, and mice on the sides. How old are these kids, seriously? Susie's worried that the snake might have gone off and got run over, but Arthur says they're sure to catch him with this spiffy cardboard box trap, which Yick is baiting with lunch meat. Because snakes love lunch meat!

Mmm, lunch meat.

So yeah. The kids sneak into the boiler room, and it seems kind of lax on the part of the school authorities to not, I don't know, lock the door? And by "lax" I mean "criminally negligent".

Up in the corridor, Melanie's still wearing her taped-up giant boots (and carrying her stylish Speedo gym bag, by the way). While she stows her stuff in her locker, Mr. Lawrence makes an announcement on the PA: "Please be aware that there is only one serpentine creature at large. Rumours of a dozen missing tarantulas are utterly without foundation." Yeah, sure, that's what they all say, until people start turning up dead.

Meanwhile, Alex and a couple of extras are hiding behind her opened locker door, and they sneak a very fake-looking plastic snake over the top of it. Melanie doesn't notice until it's at her eye level, then catches sight of it and shrieks, "SNAKE!" Snake thinks she's calling him, just to make things more embarrassing, and the other guys run away, laughing hysterically at her. Until they're spotted by Mr. Raditch, who seemingly dishes out the Stinkeye to anyone who seems too exuberant, just in case.

Melanie, seemingly pushed over the edge by this prank, just hides her face in shame and beats her head gently against her locker, not noticing that Snake is walking off with an affectionate smile. Mr Raditch stares at Melanie in total bafflement. Apparently the mechanics of adolescent embarrassment are beyond his ken.

In the classroom, Voula is carrying an envelope on which she's written "Flower MONEY", and also drawn a flower for the benefit of her stupider classmates. People are putting money in the envelope. Money with which to buy flowers. It seems the kids of Degrassi are pretty upset about Mr. D being sick; Spike helpfully reminds everyone that he sponsored their softball team last year (I dunno, sport sounds pretty unladylike to me) and even Steph is 100% in favour of sending him flowers. And truly Mr. D's plight has brought everyone together, because Voula even lets Steph express her opinion without launching a savage, painfully clumsy verbal attack on her.

Voula and Spike, obviously still feeling guilty about their previous judgeathon, say they'll take the flowers to the hospital at lunchtime. Surely they should make some handlettered posters too?

When L.D. comes in, everyone shuts up about the flower plan, and Voula asks how her dad is. L.D. cagily says that he's still in the hospital, and Voula, in a rare show of dumbassedness, asks her, "How do his eyes look? My grandmother says you can tell a person's health by looking in their eyes." Oh, ethnic people and their crazy ideas! L.D. mumbles that his eyes look the same as always, she guesses. Just then, Ms Avery creates a diversion by telling everyone that their mapping projects are going great. She delivers light shoulder-pats all round. Lesbian!

At lunchtime, we see Voula and Spike emerge from the hospital gift shop with a bunch of yellow chrysanthemums that might actually be one of the ill-fated bouquets from last episode. I would not put it past this show. They meander around the hospital and eventually find Mr. D's room. Spike, in the grand style of punk kids everywhere, has Tipp-exed some band names on her schoolbag: I can make out "The Cult" and "The Furs". I'm not sure if I'm disappointed or grudgingly impressed to learn that both bands actually exist.

Mr. D is morosely hunched over a ghastly hospital meal, framed photo of the late Mrs. D positioned prominently on his nightstand. He's a bit surprised to see Voula and Spike, but is touchingly pleased by the flowers. The girls explain that L.D. doesn't know they're there, and Spike says they wanted her to see the flowers next time she visits. "Next time?" says Mr. D sadly. "She hasn't been here yet. …But I understand she's got a big mapping project that's keeping her real busy." Yeah, I always use that excuse when I'm avoiding someone. Works every time.

The girls stare at him in horror, because Mr. D is putting on a brave face but it's pretty clear how depressed he is by this (admittedly very depressing) situation. He asks them to tell L.D. that he's going to be okay. They continue to stare.

Back at school, Arthur and Yick sneak back into the boiler room. They're wildly excited to see the trap has been sprung. Arthur bends down to investigate. "Oh no," he groans. "Dead?" asks Yick. "Rubber," says Arthur, holding up the toy snake from earlier Actually, much as I hate to admit it, that was kind of a funny prank by the other guys.

Voula and Spike are awkwardly saying their goodbyes to Mr. D. Out in the corridor, they share a long, intense stare that could be meant to express anything from terror to lust to "Seriously, WTF is up with L.D.?" I'm going with the latter. Spike declares that L.D. is "acting weeeeird".

Speaking of which, we next see L.D. huddled in the dark, sitting on the floor of the gym under a sadly ironic motivational poster. The effect is kind of weird. Voula comes in and says they've been looking everywhere for L.D., who says nothing in response. Voula explains that she's been to the hospital, and L.D. asks, "How do his eyes look?" She may or may not be trying to sound witheringly sarcastic, I'm not sure, but Voula doesn't understand sarcasm in others anyway, and just says that his eyes, and the rest of him, look fine. L.D. is not particularly comforted.

Out in the corridors, everyone's bustling around. Mr. Lawrence is on the PA again, reassuring everyone that "any cafeteria menus featuring Shepherd's Python or Corn on the Cobra are merely the product of a warped sense of humour". Wow, they're faking menus now? I kind of admire these kids' dedication.

Voula has refused to butt out, and is sitting on the floor beside L.D. "How come you don't go visit him?" she asks. L.D. mumbles a Tragic Backstory in Bullet Points: "When my mom got sick, she went into the hospital. Everyone said she was gonna be okay. I went to visit her. Then she died."

Voula has some truly revelatory words of wisdom: "Just because you go to the hospital doesn't mean you die." YOU DON'T SAY, VOULA. She starts droning on about getting her tonsils out last year, but L.D. interrupts her to say that her dad really doesn't want her there anyway. "He doesn't like me. I'm not at all like he wants me to be. He always yells at me. I always do stuff wrong." Voula remarks that he sounds like a normal dad to her, you know, except for the fact that L.D.'s dad strangely doesn't spend most of his time planning proletarian revolutions. "He needs you," she insists. "You're all he's got left." There's an overlong silence; I think one of the girls forgot her lines.

Closeup on L.D.'s legs in a pair of horrible tight tapered jeans, walking unsteadily into the hospital. Yet again, we hear the same voiceover flashback, as she makes her way through the corridors, confusingly mingled with the announcements on the hospital PA. Did they just page "Doctor Chlamydia"? This show is twisted.

Back in the school library, Arthur and Yick are looking under the couch cushions. In marches Susie. "Haven't you guys found Amadeus yet?" she asks, in possibly her most dead-voiced line delivery yet. Arthur insists that they're doing everything they can.

As the three bicker inanely (Yick suggesting that they should "do a dog" for their next class project, which… ew), Melanie walks in, cautiously scanning the area for snakes. She hears a squeaking sound and gasps. Over in the corner, Snake looks up from the huge glitter-covered dolls' house he's playing with. Look, I don't write this show, OK? He's 15. It makes no sense. Melanie realises that the noise is coming from a gym bag someone left on the table. She looks down, and sees Amadeus in the bag, flicking his tongue and making this weird squeaking noise. Do snakes do that?

Melanie opens her mouth to scream, but Snake's staring at her, and she doesn't want to look stupid in front of him, so she just nervously asks Susie to come over. Susie, overjoyed, picks up the snake and puts him around Arthur's neck (can you fashion a live snake into a noose?). "He's not slimy," Melanie realises. "He's kind of cute!"

Just then, Alex and his unspeaking henchmen come in. When he sees the snake, he panics, and his nostrils go even more enormous than usual. "Keep that thing away from me!" he tells Arthur, then runs out of the room. The others mock his weakness. "Honestly," says Melanie, "some people are afraid of the silliest things." Oh, the hilarity!

L.D. is still stumbling around the hospital, trying to find her way while being barged into by nurses wheeling dying people on trolleys. It's not a calming experience. And we get a new voiceover flashback! It's hugely long and bonusly traumatic: first Voiceover Flashback L.D. (who it turns out is actually named Lorraine) has gone into her mother's hospital room, and been freaked out by all the machines.

Next, she gets upset because her mother's been in hospital so long. Then, her dad's trying to comfort her/fob her off, when a doctor asks to speak to him in private. As Modern-Day L.D. gets to the door of her dad's room, Flashback Dad explains that Mummy won't be coming home. And right on cue, we see that Modern-Day Dad's hospital room has been vacated. Ouch.

L.D., horrified, goes into the room and reverentially takes off her baseball cap. Sad electric guitar music plays as she sits on the bed. And her plight is pretty heartbreaking, and we've all learned a valuable lesson about making the most of our time with the people we love, because they won't be around forever… *sniff*

Oh no, wait! It was just an incredibly manipulative trick from the writers. L.D.'s dad chirpily walks into the room, dressed and carrying an overnight bag. "You're alive!" exclaims L.D. "Of course I'm alive!" says her dad. "It's gonna take more than a little angina to stop me!" "Angina?" asks L.D., looking confused but not nearly as weirded out as most people are the first time they hear that word.

Mr. D says it's nothing serious, and he needs to take better care of himself, and they stare meaningfully at each other for a while before turning to go. L.D. chatters about how "from now on I'll be just like you want", but her dad interrupts her to say that she left her Baseball Cap of Manliness on the bed. He places it on her head in a symbolic gesture, and they walk happily down the corridor, and I swear someone called "Dr Mojo" is being paged on the PA, which is really distracting.

"If you think hospitals are scary," says Mr. D, "you should try being the father of a teenage daughter!" Which is a lovely thing for a father to say to his kid. "Don't worry," says L.D., "you'll get over it!" And off they go, friends at last. At least until he gets home and sees the state of the kitchen.

Dubious lessons of the week: If your parent has a heart attack, it's your fault for wishing it on them. Voiceover flashbacks are less dramatically effective the more you use them. Hospitals do not necessarily equal instant death. If you bait a trap with lunch meat, all you'll catch are teenage boys.