Big Boy's office. I love that Heavy D has a whole second career on this show. He's such a weird choice to play a guidance counselor: he's really kind of uncomfortable to look at. Which I guess makes him perfect to play a guidance counselor. I revise my earlier assessment. Anyway, he's trying to figure out if Anthony Ward is a harmless kid with a creative bent, or a potentially murderous psychopath. "Anthony, all these kids pick on you?" he asks. Anthony explains, "I was working on a story. It helped me characterize the bad guys to think about these people." Big Boy asks why he himself is on the list, and Anthony says that, "for the ending, I wanted to blow up something really, really big." BWA HA HA! I love this kid. Big Boy says, "This is a hit list, Anthony." Well, no, it's not, as Anthony's not a hit man, and has no Mob ties that we're aware of. But whatever. "With names of people who say you're going to kill." Anthony response is, "Would it make you feel better if I registered it with the Writer's Guild?" He'd better do it before May 1st, that's all I have to say.
The hallway. Scott chases down his third person of the episode, shouting, "Mr. Connelly!" at a gangly kid heading for a classroom. Mr. Connelly say that he'll be late for class, and Scott's all, "You'll be late for your arraignment, Mr. Connelly, if you don't tell me what I want to know." The poor kid tries to demur and look away, but Anthony Heald gives him a speech that would make anybody wet their pants: "Well, then let me tell you what I know…LOOK AT ME, Mr. Connelly. Your name is Patrick Connelly, not Dirk Diggler; you have a part-time custodial job after hours, [that] provided you with access to areas such as Mr. Gordon's office; you're in a TV production class, providing you access to video duplicating equipment; and you approached at least one purveyor of internet porn attempting to profit from this access. What we don't know is whether you acted alone, and how large-scale your operation is." Patrick Connelly wets himself. No, really, he does. Scott pauses to take this in, and then continues, going a little easier. "Who else is in on this?" Patrick says it's just him, and Scott tells him he got a lucky break that Porno Beard didn't buy the tapes, and that he can avoid prosecution by returning all the tapes to Scott first thing in the morning. "Go get a mop, and clean up your mess." He walks off. Patrick looks kinda scared.
Later that night, in the dungeon, a really staged scene takes place where a bunch of parents stand around in a neat semi-circle, facing Steven and Harry. The parents all yell: "Murmur! Murmur! Rumble grumble! Peas carrots rhubarb! Crowd noise, crowd noise!" Steven shuts everybody up by yelling the loudest. Then he says, "If everybody shouts, we get nowhere. So let's go one at a time." Someone goes first: "I almost pulled my kid out when this cowboy shot a gun off in class. I was told, mainly by you, Mr. Harper, that he was a good teacher and we should give him some time. Now he's taking our kids to the morgue to view a dead kid with a hole in his head. That kind of recklessness is stupefying." Eloquently put. Steven says, "You're right. Harry, you're fired." Oh, wait, no he doesn't. That was just a brief hallucinatory moment of realism, brought about by randomly firing sense-neurons. Actually, another parent talks: "First let me address the wisdom of this suicide club. In this day and age, where the mere mention of the word can lead kids to think about it, and make them more likely to do it, how can you start a club? For what? To make it cool? To make you cool? Well how cool are you gonna feel if a kid in your club takes his life." It doesn't help that this women is a bad actress, and that all her points are wrong, and that I've never heard anyone struggle so hard to come up with a natural delivery for the word "cool." So I can't blame Harry when he snaps, "How cool will you feel if it's your kid? How cool will you feel if you had no idea because you were too afraid to talk about it. Too afraid to mention the word." The woman tells him he's no psychiatrist, and Harry's all, "Clearly, neither are you. You want to talk about recklessness? Where in hell do you get the notion that talking about suicide makes kids more inclined to do it? You're parents for god's sakes, how can you be so naïve. No, this is why I think people should be forced to get a license to procreate. Pass a test first, you know. Let me tell you something: not talking about it costs lives. All right, show of hands. How many of you have kids who have thought seriously about committing suicide?" No one moves. "Wrong. Dead wrong." Heh. "I don't want to betray anyone's confidence, but start talking to your kids." Another woman says, "I think he's right." The first guy, who may or may not be her husband, tells her to shut up. She tells him to shut up. Steven tells them both to shut up. Okay, ALL OF YOU. SHUT. UP. "Teenagers don't come running with their problems," says Harry, "especially to their parents." Blah blah blah dig-a-little-cakes. The morgue thing comes up again, and Harry says, "You know why I took them to the morgue, Mr. Hobson?" Mr. Hobson being the first guy who spoke. "Yeah, 'cause you're crazy." Harry says, "You're a big dumb-ass." Heh. "Some of these kids, their emotions are so screwed up, they think of suicide as a pleasant alternative. Other kids think of it as glamorous. I took them to see that body to show them how pleasant and glamorous it really is. It's the third leading cause of death among teenagers. Third leading cause." Yeah, after watching Fox and the WB. "And I bet every time the mothers and fathers say, 'Sure saw that coming.' Gee, if only I could take them some place and show them what a real parent looked like." Ouch. After that, I need a commercial.
Oh, look, here's some. Anybody planning to watch Boot Camp? I'm not. Even though this bad, bad part of me wants to.