Roswell
Graduation

Episode Report Card
Djb: D+ | 9 USERS: C
YOU GRADE IT
Actually, it was pretty stupid

Liz's balcony. She lights candles for the purpose of meaningful coitus, but Max is preoccupied. He speaks of Mrs. Mills without knowing her name, admitting to Liz, "We saved that woman's life. I have a weird feeling about it. I've just been feeling like I have no path." How does that have anything to do with the nice twin set-clad Mrs. Mills with the two kids and an implied minivan? He muses, "Maybe that's why I've been put here. To help people." She clarifies it with a reference that will make the whole demographic go, "Oh, like that," when she says, "Like Tom Joad in The Grapes of Wrath." Right. Was that on the SAT too? He says he can only be a superhero if she's his Lois Lane, and she doesn't miss a beat (with the exception of the nine hours of paced musing): "I would do anything if it means being with you." Max opens an outdoor grill that I guess has just been sitting there for three years (please just light it and let me stick my head in already), taking out a piece of charcoal and saying, "It's a trick I learned from Superman. Let's see if it really works." He holds it real tight for a moment, and when he opens his hand, it's a diamond ring. He gets on one knee and begs, "Liz, they're taking our home from us. They want to kill us. But when I look in your eyes, I don't feel angry or deprived. I feel like the luckiest half-human on the planet." Or more like the character of "me" in Ayn Rand's Audience Shrugged. Right. SAT. Max wants to be with her forever, even if forever "is only twelve days. We'll live twelve lifetimes." Actually, the correct mathematical conversion is one lifetime = one episode. Looks like someone wasn't boning up quite as much for the math section as for the English. Max asks Liz to marry him. Liz says yes. Max sets the date: "After graduation." If that doesn't translate to "I'll marry you over my dead body," people, I don't know what does.

Ah, graduation. What a time it was. My favorite part was not having to marry Max. That, and cake. The graduates are decked in red robes and hats. Everyone is there. It's a veritable bacchanal of graduational fun, sans the requisite beach balls and stoned seniors. The guy at the front (principal? PTA president? Disguised alien hunter? If you don't wear a nametag, I'm at a loss at this point) congratulates the graduates ninety times, and continues on, "Now it's my pleasure to introduce our special guest for this evening. A three-time Hugo Award winner for excellence in science fiction and an international best-selling author…Bryce McCain!" International best-selling author? Shouldn't he be charging $10,000 for a speaking engagement? I don't know which international best-selling author spoke at your graduation, but at mine it was…well, no one. And out comes Mr. McCain, with his black-rimmed glasses and I-am-your-death-knell smile. He shakes the principal's hand. The press kit exchanges concerned glances from all around the auditorium. Run! Or he'll beat you to death with one of his Hugo Awards!

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Roswell

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