As if hearing the shots ring out and thinking, "That must be my sexy but secretive wife getting shot! I do not know where she was or why, but it's just a matter of pure television that I should be happening past a blazing pharmaceutical company just as my wife needs me and, perhaps later, a shady witch-doctor friend with a hint of bad guy and a 5:01 shadow," here comes Jesse "Boy Oh Boy Oh Boy" Ramirez, in an advanced state of panic. He asks if they've called an ambulance, and some loud, disconcerting ACTING ensues as Michael insists that they can't call an ambulance, and Jesse is all "You must call an ambulance" and Michael is all "But I can't call an ambulance" and Jesse is all "But you must call an ambulance" until Porno steps in, all gallant, and is like, "I'll call an ambulance." My hero! Curses! Foiled again! Or, what happens is this: Jesse screams that Isabel will die if they don't help her right now, clocking Michael in the face. Heh. Nice. Michael takes Jesse down and climbs on top of him (dum-dee-dum-diddly-um I have nothing to say on the matter), subduing him with the knowledge that they can't call an ambulance. Why? Why can't they? Michael comes clean: "Because your wife isn't human!" Jesse rolls Michael off of him (hey, sometimes they're just not your type, y'know? It happens), and Porno points Jesse's attention to Isabel's right hand, which burns with red static electricity and a buzzing tone as if she's the really dangerous halogen lamp that's poised to change halogen lamp policies at a college near you. Porno counsels from his knees at dying Isabel's side, "I know you don't want to accept it, but it's true. She's not human." Jesse's all, "Eh?" But Michael clarifies it from behind with the vital punch line, "She's alien. We both are." Who is the "we" supposed to modify in that statement? Maybe that's why Jesse looks so freaked. In other news, I'm totally going to use the expression "clarifies it from behind" eleven times in daily speech tomorrow. And perhaps five or times here in this here remaining recap.
Opening credits: Get a temp job, bitch.
The Southern California Vermont Institute Of Conveniently Timed Vacations. Liz "Tiffany Brissette" Parker and Maria "Just Plain 'Tiffany'" DeLuca walk down an outdoor lamp-lined path that has been in at least sixteen different episodes, including "Blind Date" and "The Toy House" and, uh, "Secrets and Lies." Just fucking with you on the last one; I've never actually even seen that episode. I was just trying to name sixteen episodes that that path appeared in. I couldn't even name sixteen episodes, period. I can't even count to sixteen. Is there a four in there somewhere? Anyway, Liz walks a step or two in front of Maria, who barks into a cell phone, "Michael, it's Maria. Please pick up the phone. Liz has this completely wrong idea that something's happened to Max, and I just need someone in Roswell to pick up the phone." Maria hangs up and suggests calling Jesse and Isabel. I say why not try Max himself? Oh, that's right. Because his cell phone must have puffed away in a cloud of dust, right along with his body, clothes, wallet, and spare pocket change. Strong old man death dust, that dust is. But I mean, Liz knows that "Max is dead." Maria rambles about the "connection" Liz and Max share, but says they can't really know anything until they know anything. Liz looks wildly around and notes, "I need some time." Here. Take a month off. And then, after that, forever. Maria calls after her that she's going to "find" Liz when she finds out that everything is okay, and Liz mutters a faraway "yeah." Blah. Please let As If kill in the ratings and stay on forever. If they threaten to cancel it and bring Roswell back, please do your part in the campaign and send small words to the network, to signal your devotion to words like "as" and "if." Send them a "so." Send them a "la," "ti," or "do." Send them a "blip." PLEASE.