Man, this show is ass. Every time I watch it, I'm reminded of all the promise, the hullabaloo, the brouhaha as it were, and my disappointment bites at the back of my throat like cheap wine. Okay, not really, but I wanted to wax poetic and sort of weltschmertz for a moment, you know? I mean, the show is ass, but I kind of like it that way. Anyway. This episode opens with Cap'n EO working feverishly at his computer. I feel a kinship with him. I have an iBook, he has a G4 cube; I'm hot, he's hot; he's obsessed with stuff, I'm obsessed with stuff. You see the parallels. Number 2 (that's the bodyguard) chides him for working too hard, and also for trying to bail on his dinner date with Max. Some bantering back and forth about the nature of dating, male-female relationships, et cetera. The bile rises uneasily up my esophagus, then settles again when the conversation ends.
And cut to Max's apartment, where she is lighting candles and watching her roommate finish up a tricolore(?) sauce that will "make Logan [her] sex slave." Max insists that they don't have "that kind" of relationship (um, especially since he's paralyzed from the waist down, yo), and the roommate gives her a Knowing Look. Cap'n EO -- oh wait. I almost missed a choice mockery moment. Jesus, I'm getting slow. It seems that Max broke into the Italian embassy to obtain a bottle of cold-pressed extra-virgin olive oil. Oh. My. Fucking. God. She's got electricity in an "abandoned" squat, she drinks good imported beer like it was freaking Budweiser, she and her friends always have styling clothes, and yet it's a big deal that she got freaking olive oil. This point is made in every recap, but every single time it amazes me. Gawd. To continue. Cap'n EO wheels in just as Kendra is scooting out, and he's all business. It seems he decided to come to dinner, but couldn't leave his bummer friend, Obsessive-Compulsive Workaholic Tendency, back at the League of Justice. Max blithely ignores his business-talk frou-frou and concentrates on pasta and wine and such. Good girl. But Mister Bag-of-Downers has to have his way, and he wrestles Max back to the somber issue of Bad Guys like an Australian wrestling an alligator. (Nice image, huh?) Once he gets the point across that he's not going to eat her purloined olive oil, or anything cooked in it, she gets really pissy and sour, and makes a tremendous production of being mad at him without actually telling him. For a long time.