Life on Mars

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Mr. Sobell: B- | Grade It Now!
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Mama Mia!
In a hurry? Read the recaplet for a nutshell description!

Previously on Wild Eyed Boy from Freecloud, Sam got a brief glimpse of the 1973 versions of both his deadbeat old man and himself, and, miraculously, the universe did not collapse upon itself. Also, my computer was a smoking, burnt-out husk, but that's of little concern to you.

We begin this week with a woman in a red dress, sniffling and dabbing at her eyes and generally looking sad. "Are you crying, mommy?" her tousle-haired moppet asks. It is powers of observation like that, kiddo, that will lead to a career in law enforcement. The lady pulls herself together, tucks the little tyke into bed for the night, and coos, "Do you know how much mommy loves you, Sammy?" Ah, so this would be the 1973 edition of Sam's mother then -- either that, or it's a totally different woman who also has a kid named Sam and we've just wasted 30 seconds of our lives. I'm going to go with the Mama Tyler theory. Anyhow, Li'l Sam asks his mom to sing the Sandman song. Well, it's an odd request for a lullaby, but here goes: Exit light... enter night... take my haaaaaaaaand... off to Never Never La..... Oh, it's a totally different song that Sam's mom is singing, then? Well, my Sandman song is much more ass-kicky.

As Sam's mother sings her sweet little Sandman song, we see Li'l Sam's hand clutching a Mars Rover toy -- not unlike the robot that was stalking Sam a few episodes back. That shot transitions to a mini-Mars Rover tear-assing across some unforgiving landscape... which turns out to be Grown-up Sam's chest, neck and face. Freaky. The Mars Rover continues its magical journey up a sleeping Sam's cheek and directly into his ear. Sam's eyes pop open, as would yours if a semi-imaginary creepy-crawly just rolled its way into your earhole. Richard Nixon is on Sam's TV set, prattling on about U.S. dependence on foreign oil. "Just resign already," Sam mutters at the TV. "You know you're going to. I know you're going to." Suddenly, the TV goes all staticy, and suddenly Richard Nixon's horrifying mug is replaced by the equally grim visage of George W. Bush, who is also prattling on about U.S. dependence on foreign oil. Because we sure did lick that oil problem in the ensuing 35 years. Sam does a double-take, and Nixon returns to the TV screen. "Suddenly, I don't seem like such a shitty president, huh?" Tricky Dick seems to say.

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Life on Mars

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