Six Feet Under
Life's Too Short

Episode Report Card
Aaron: B | Grade It Now!
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Death, dumb, and blind

Suddenly, we're in Babylon West, with oily, half-naked muscle men gyrating in steel cages. It's Hot! Dancing! Gay! Boy! Tastic! In an effort to provide a fully-informed recap (and also to indulge my laziness by getting someone else to do my work for me), I offered to let Camper recap these scenes for you. After she finished laughing in my face (virtually, that is), she suggested that I try Strega instead, as David Fisher's dancing bears a disturbing resemblance to that of David Boreanaz. Unfortunately, Strega just signed a pay-or-play deal to write and direct Cruel Intentions 3: Brought To You By Clearasil, Viagra, And Pepto-Bismol, so she wasn't available. I'll try to do the best I can. Anyway, David wanders through the club, looking for his Hoedown Ho. HDH finds him, and immediately offers up some Ecstasy to wash away David's bad day. Popping the pill into his own mouth, the Ho plants a kiss on David, who accepts the pill and swallows with much less complaint than I would have expected. "Let's dance!" exclaims HDH, but David hilariously reports that he's not a very good dancer. "You will be," says the Hoedown Ho. Oh, if only there really were a pill you could take for that. I'd have been spared several highly traumatic high school dance experiences if there were. After a Hot! Dancing! Gay! Montage! we see the HDH bringing David a bottle of water. "You've got to keep drinking this," he says. "You've also got to remember I told you that when it becomes a plot point later." More scenes of David and his Ho kissing and convulsing on the dance floor, and then we finally fade to white.

Haley Joel Osment: Are you the blue fairy?
The Hoedown Ho: Nope. I'm Gigolo Joe, kid. Whaddya know?
Haley Joel Osment: So, is this like a Flesh Fair or something?
The Hoedown Ho: I'll say.

The next morning, David and Nate are working another intake meeting. The Anvil of Ironic Contrast drops into my living room and starts frantically pointing at my screen, lest I fail to notice that David looks sloppy and tired in the clothes he wore the night before, while Nate looks spiffy and stubble-free in his suit and tie. The only other things worth mentioning about this scene are fact that Michael C. Hall is always funny, and that the male customer almost, but not quite, looks like a young James Cromwell. And if that's all that was actually worth mentioning, you can imagine what the rest of the scene was like.

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Six Feet Under

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