Six Feet Under
The Foot

Episode Report Card
Aaron: C+ | 1 USERS: A+
'Til Death Do Us Part

Which he does, and now we see Nate and a non-Asian morgue attendant carrying a body bag out to the van. Nate repeats the Humpty Dumpty line on the off chance it might be funnier the second time, and then drops his end of the bag. The attendant warns him to be careful, because "that could be his head. Or his pelvis." Yeah, I always get those two confused as well. It's probably why I can never get a second date. They heave the bag into the van, and Nate claims to just be a temp over at Fisher & Sons. The attendant asks if he knew "old man Fisher," to which Nate replies that he in fact did not. At least that's true, if the flashbacks are any indication. Finally, the attendant suggests that he call the temp agency and request a different assignment. "I'm already on it," reports Nate.

Over at the High School that every TV show ever has filmed at, Claire is leaving one of those long, rambling, embarrassing messages we're all familiar with on Gabe's answering machine. As she babbles about how she was thinking about him, but only in a "casual" way, a large group of students gathers behind her to point and laugh. Claire finally looks up and notices that the Lean Green Corpse Machine has been vandalized, and is now covered with such quaint little homilies as "Toe-Slut" and "Oink, Oink, Little Piggy." Lauren Ambrose perfectly conveys shock, bewilderment, and shame as she runs to the car and drives off, and I'm almost forced to change the channel because I feel so bad for her. For some reason, I find it almost painful to watch characters get embarrassed like that. And it doesn't help that, like most writers, I've got a highly overactive imagination, so I can really feel what they're going through. You see, sometimes, late at night, when I'm writing recaps and bemoaning the fact that the little green timer on the VCR is still closer to 0:00 than 0:60, I like to fantasize that I'm attending some posh, official MBTV function where I meet and fall in love with any of the alluringly intelligent women working for the site. It's usually Jessica or Strega, although sometimes, when I'm really, really drunk, Demian or Gustave might make the occasional cameo appearance. Interestingly though, it's almost never Sars, as she's quite clearly more in love with Daniel than me. Anyway, this co-worker and I end up sharing a mythic, almost Buffy/Angel-style love, and of course the inevitable e-card wedding invitations request the Mighty Big Favor of a reply. And then when the day finally arrives, everyone cries when instead of "I do" we say "We. Get. It," and Pamie and djb bust out the karaoke machine to provide entertainment at the reception while the guests eat their fishcakes. Afterwards, when we've run off to enjoy a glamorous honeymoon in Pago Pago or Bora Bora or somewhere somewhere, Wing and Sars get together and write a tag-team recap of the event in which the word "soulmate" is used repeatedly without irony, and the phrase "downward spiral" appears not at all. But then eventually I always wake up, and find there's still forty-three minutes left in the show, and it's 4:38 in the morning, and all the people I've named in this paragraph are reading it and feeling awkward about it, and while it's true that you now know exactly what I meant about turning away in embarrassment back there, maybe it's just time to get back to the recap.

So David and Keith are going shopping for a ceiling fan. David rants on and on about how Nate just thinks he can do whatever he wants, but then he also admits that he's been feeling an enormous sense of relief all day. "I don't know if I want to keep it," he says. "I could do anything. I'm still young. Right?" Keith smiles and replies, "Are you kidding? You're still a baby." Amen, brother. They discuss various fans, with Keith dismissing one because it's too "Mayberry," but liking another because he can visualize Ava Gardner and Clark Gable sitting beneath it. Then he engages in a long fantasy about truck stops and handsome drifters, and I've got to figure that's exactly the sort of thing that got George Michael into trouble a few years back. As they chat, some guy passes right between them, giving David a long, lingering look as he brushes past. A disbelieving Keith reports, "That guy just cruised you. Bitch. Right in front of me like I'm not even here." Okay, Mathew St. Patrick's delivery cracked me up, but let's be honest: Given a choice between the two, what self-respecting gay man would cruise David over Keith? I mean, come on. I'm halfway attracted to Keith, for God's sake.

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Six Feet Under




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