It’s the big two-oh. I can’t believe I’ve written twenty of these. By which I mean it feels more like eight-hundred-billion-jillion. Zillion. Ka-gillion.
Props to the Josh Dodes Band. They were the most talented musicians on that damn show. Godspeed, kids. Flickerstick, Soulcracker, and most especially Whore-Low really need to pucker up and kiss your collective ass.
Previously on Boston Public: Steven argued with the Bus Lady about whether or not he humiliated her daughter; Kevin Jackson made a persuasive point to Scott Guber, so Guber asked him if he’d ever considered joining the debate team; Steven asked the Bus Lady to dinner, in a scene that never actually made it onto the show before, but was rescued from the cutting room floor to be used here in order to convince us that they set up this relationship; Marilyn showed Jeremy’s mother the bruise on his chest, and she lied about its origin; Jeremy sat in the rain because he was afraid to go home after getting a bad grade on a test; Jeremy’s mother was unconcerned, and Marilyn told her she’d be watching; Lauren smashed her car, and a former student named Daniel saw her; Daniel told her he’s always had a crush on her; Daniel and Lauren got it on.
The school by night. Lauren’s classroom. Lauren “Whorin’” Davis is going over some end-of-the-day paperwork, while Daniel The Graduate watches her intently, waiting for her to finish so that he can show Teacher the apple he’s brought her. “This will literally take me three seconds,” she says, and he says fine, and then she looks back at he paper, and then back up at him, and then back down, and then back up at him as he stares at her with an almost sinister lust. At this point it’s already been at least fifteen seconds, but why should Lauren be held accountable for misuse of the word “literally,” when after all she’s ONLY A TEACHER. LITERALLY. The music goes all Joe-Eszterhas-Erotic-Thriller, and we flash cut to black-and-white shots of Whorin’ and The Graduate dry-humping on her desk. This is meant to be, I guess, what he’s thinking right now, and that’s supposed to be really unusual or intense or something. But, honestly, I’m thinking about something like that most of the time. Anyhow, Whorin’ notes his skeezy glances and asks him what he’s thinking, and he’s all, “You really wanna know?” Whorin’ earns her brand-new nickname all over again when she kind of waggles her eyebrows and says, “I think I do, yeah.” Daniel says, “When I was your student, sitting in that desk right over there, sometimes I’d fantasize: you and me, right on your desk? That’s what I was just remembering.” Lauren tries to be funny. “You used to fantasize that we’d be doing paperwork together?” Bones snap in her face as the misfiring attempt at humor stretches her frontal lobe into a completely new configuration. Then Lauren asks him to tell her about the fantasy, and he just nods toward the door. “That doesn’t lock, does it?” he says. That’s the same question I ask when someone asks if they can watch my Boston Public tape in an adjacent room.
Opening credits. This is literally the worst music ever written. Literally.