Queer as Folk U.S.
Good Grief!

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Argh! My Eyes! My Eyes!

Justin's room. Daphne's with him. Why? Why? Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this? Justin asks if she wants to listen to some music. He has to ask her twice because she zoned out. Yes, she would like to listen to some music. Daphne asks how long he thinks this is going to take. I'm in hell. Justin's not sure -- maybe an hour? And knowing the House of QaF, I wouldn't at all be surprised if it literally takes an hour. Daphne says that she promised her mom that she'd be home by six because her grandmother's coming over for dinner, and uh...Justin says that they don't have to go through with it, if she doesn't want to. No, Daphne says, she still wants to, because a week ago I accidentally kicked a puppy, and laughed when he yelped. Daphne asks whether he has condoms. Justin snorts, "Are you kidding?" Daphne says she brought some, just in case he didn't. And spermicidal foam. And lubricant. Justin commends her for being so prepared. Smart enough to bring all the stuff, but not smart enough to realize that this is the worst idea she's ever come up with in her young life. Hopefully, it's all uphill from here. They awkwardly sit down on the bed. Daphne grins shyly and says, "In a way, this is your first time, too." Justin gamely replies, "Yeah. We can give it a shot together." I may throw up. Justin adds, "Only afterwards, Daph? Let's not get weird." Daphne's like, "Weird how?" Oh, you know, stalking Justin, thinking he's in love with you or you're in love with him just because you've had sex. Justin knows all about it. Puts quite a kink in one's friendship, too. Daphne promises no weirdness. And then they kiss.

And then later on -- oh, god! -- they're in bed and Justin's -- Justin's moving on top of her, and I have to sit on my hands a minute to stop them from reflexively ripping my eyeballs out of my head. Daphne's still wearing her bra, which is good, because that's the only thing standing between me and a Braille keyboard. I knew I should have gotten drunk for this.

Whew. That night, Ted and Emmett stroll down some street, laughing about the outtakes from "Funeral from Hell" that we didn't get to see: Brian's sister screaming, "You shit! You shit!" presumably at Brian, and the priest carrying The Ice Queen up to her room. Emmett notes that they didn't come back down for an hour. Ted's like, hmmm. Whatever. The priest is shtupping the grieving widow. Yawn. Emmett wonders if Brian's story was true. Ted replies that even though Brian often goes for the shock value, the story was pretty believable. Emmett can't imagine how Brian grew up in the House that Dysfunction Built: "How did he ever survive?" Ted: "Who's to say that he did?" Word. Ted looks at some flowers in front of a store window, and Emmett sneers something about Ted's "romantic dinner for two." Ted says that he's going to use the china his grandmother left him. Emmett tells him not to forget the good crystal: "I'm sure Blake will appreciate that." Ted tells him to fuck off; Blake's not using anymore. Emmett asks the street for a show of hands: "How many people believe that the twink is no longer tweaking? No one." Ted plays along and snorts, "Yeah, well, you're all wrong." Emmett says that Ted's the one who's wrong: "Believe me, I know." Emmett needs to back off a bit, there. Ted says no, Emmett doesn't know, and furthermore, he's just jealous. Emmett's like, how's that, now? Ted continues, "Jealous that I've found someone who cares about me and wants to be with me." Uh huh. Right. Like Emmett couldn't go out and get his own tweaked-out drug addict. Emmett says that Blake is using him. Ted snipes, "That's not true. You just don't want me to have something because you don't have it. Like every other fag in the world." Yes, that's right. Y'all just get more brilliant every day, don'tcha?

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Queer as Folk U.S.

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