Six Feet Under

Episode Report Card
Djb: B- | 3 USERS: B-

Anita doesn't sleep on Claire's couch, woken up as she is by the constant flicking of a lighter and the tiny bubbles of the resultant bong hit. Anita requests that Claire go to sleep, and Claire sums it up in one word: "Can't." Clown'll eat me. Anita notes that sleep will come easier if Claire would "stop sucking weed and lie down." Claire notes that she feels "buzzy" and stressed about her exhibition, and Anita asks if she "got into the blow." Is this a Lifetime movie? Is somebody's mother Joanna Kerns? What's going on? An instant message pops up on Claire's iMac '99 from "MrChen106," and if you think I didn't just add that to my buddy list, it's like you never knew me at all. It reads, "Let's fuck at the end of the ep." Okay, no it doesn't. Actually, it says, "hey u." Uh-oh. I smell a smiley. LOL! Claire, or should we call her "CFisher2002" (which I totally didn't add to my buddy list, because...well, shut the fuck up, Claire), responds, "billy! talk me down i'm flipping about my show." Now, some people don't always go all out on the capitalization on IM. I do depending on who I'm talking to. But seriously? A sentence is a sentence in any space, cyber or otherwise, and that is not a sentence. MrChen106 is quick to write back, "don't think about it, watch bad tv." One step ahead of you, Sisto. CFisher2002 giggles. Fade2white.

Shot of Lisa in a car. Shot of Lisa on a beach. Shot of Lisa sitting by the water. Shot of hand on Lisa's check. Seagulls. Caw! Caw! Shot of Lisa in a house, shot of Lisa with a mouse. She wasn't alone on that beach, and Nate's dream sequence proves it! Nate wakes with a start and races into the next room, where he announces to Brenda, "Check this out. This is what Lisa wore." I get it. Foreplay. Very hot. Brenda doesn't even bother feigning interest in what he's talking about anymore, but Nate insists, "She bought this shirt a week before she died." So we're looking at the shirt she wore and the beach she was on, so how could Michaela have sent him the picture of Lisa on a beach if Lisa never made it to Santa Cruz. Good question, Nate. Let's see what Brenda has cooked up as the answer: "I don't know. There's probably a simple explanation." But Nate wants to hear it, and he tells her, "I'm going up there!" Brenda barks that "this is never going to end," but Nate can't believe that she wouldn't show a little more sensitivity. Brenda suggests she "call the little girl and ask her," but he knows they'll never put her on the phone. He sarcastically thanks for her the support, adding, "This is exactly what I'm fucking talking about." She tells him she thinks driving up there is "ridiculous," and he snarks back, "I don't need your permission...I'm gonna take Maya to my mother's house." Brenda notes that if he doesn't think she can take care of Maya, then there's not a really compelling argument for the three of them living together, a contention further bolstered by the fact that Brenda and Nate absolutely fucking hate one another. He relents and apologizes, and then apologizes again, telling her, "I have to do this." Brenda looks sad because she's bought a shirt and she's gone to the beach and no one seems to give a rat's ass about it.

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Six Feet Under




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