Roswell
Who Died And Made You King?

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Countdown to Ecstasy

Jesse lies in bed, hankering for a dream sequence. And wait! Here's one now! Isabel kisses him on the cheek and whispers a "good night," and the big red lipstick kiss morphs into Color #974: Bad CGI. It becomes a weird, gray, veiny cocoon thing that envelops his body and leaves him screaming for help. Help! My wife's veiny pod is trying to suffocate me! Help! Too true, brother. He wakes with a start. Isabel is concerned that he had a bad dream, but even more so when he gets dressed and tells her, "The McAdams Case is really weighing on me. And I figure, if I can't sleep, I'll get some work done." To the office with him. She asks him if he knows when he'll be home, and he says he does not. He tells her to go back to bed. He's sweating so much I can see her planet in his reflection. Perhaps he needs a facial. I know just the spa.

Jesse's car. Driving, driving, driving. And then, the car breaking down. How odd. Jesse mutters two detached "damn it"s that both mean "I don't care," and we cut to him barking "yes" and "no" and "my darn car quit on me, see" into a cell phone. But just then, Max appears and Jesse gets all freaked out, asking, "What are you doing here? It's two in the morning!" Max flatlines, "When I can't sleep, I walk." Which is so odd, because when I can't sleep, I watch my screener of The Shipping News. Max and I are just like each other. Max offers to fix the car, reaching for the hood, but Jesse offers that "there's a tow truck coming," finally admitting, "I don't want any part of that alien crap, okay?" Max assures him, "I've taken auto shop, Jesse." No he hasn't. He had an elective and he chose Home Ec. It's fine. Max offers, "I know that all of this probably doesn't seem real right now, but if you need someone to talk to..." Jesse says he's all set, but Max prods on, "A doctor isn't going to help you deal with this. Trust me, Jesse. I've been in therapy before." Why do these people hate therapy so much? Jesse tells Max to stop spying, and Max tells Jesse that if anyone finds out, they're all in trouble again and they all risk exposure again and they will all surely die a cruel, horrific, alien-probe-type death again. He slinks back into the shadows. And then the tow truck guy finally arrives. And this is when things really start getting hot. I think I own this movie somewhere, actually. In my private collection.

More naked Michael. We're in The House That Government Subsidy Built, Michael entering with a wooden (those sake sets are such a cool, practical gift) box and a pursed-lip look of pursed-lip concentration. The box contains several different orbs of several different shapes and sizes, other assorted alien paraphernalia, and the Zapf Dingbats journal. Michael notes the suddenly significant five triangulated planets on the front cover, notes the flashing lights on his chest, and speaks aloud in an almost Shakespearean-aside kind of way: "I knew it. I'm in charge." Thank you, Iago. And now, a sennet of trumpets, followed by the entrance of a stately king of some kind.

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Roswell

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