All right, kiddies. It's crunch time. Time for six Smallvilles in a row. Ready for a big vat of platitudes and motion blurs?
First off, shout-out to KaliaKenobi for getting me the first five minutes of this episode after a recording snafu. Give her a big round of superhero fuzzies.
We open in a dingy pawn shop where a young boy is standing behind some bars and asking a middle-aged man, "How much will you give me for it?" The man, a puffy pawnbroker, holds in his fingers a small pewter figure of what looks like a winged angel holding a child. For one awful moment, I think the man is a Catholic priest and that this is a confessional. I want to yell at the kid, "Run, boy run!" The pawnbroker moves a Borg-like eyeglass magnifier away and says simply, "Fifty bucks." The kid protests that the figure is made out of gold. "Who told you that?" the pawnbroker says gently. The kid says, sadly, that it was his mother. Well your mom's a dirty liar, kid. And she dresses you funny. The pawnbroker says to tell her it's a fake. "I can't," the kid says, pulling on America's heartstrings. "She's dead." Damn, kid. I'm...I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't know. I mean, I have seen the episode, and I did know, but, still...sorry about your mom. The pawnbroker tsk-tsks and offers $60. So, the kid's mom's life is worth $10? Geez, mister, what a pal you are. The kid nods. The Brian Dennehy-like pawnsman bends down to open a safe. As he spins the dial, the kid becomes super intent, listening as the camera zooms in right up against his nostrils and spooky music starts to play.
The kid nods, like, "Got it," and then we cut to an outside shot at night as he runs to a waiting car. The spooky music becomes crap alt-gothy. Do you know that I can't tell the difference between P.O.D., System of a Down, Gravity Kills and all those other screaming ninnies? Inside the car, the boy is asked what the deal is by a man in the driver's seat. The kid says, "I told you I don't want to do this." A bleach blonde in the passenger seat with tons of makeup says sweetly that this is their last job. "Liar," the boy says. You've got spunk, kid. I hate spunk. The kid pulls up a comic book, but it's yanked away by the angry dad-figure. "We're all you've got, kid," the man says. Then he asks for the combination. "Forty-five, thirteen, twenty-nine," the kid says, reluctantly. "Good boy," the driver says. The guy throws the comic book back at the kid. Gee, thanks. Assholio. The man and his tarty lady start spouting off pre-robbery-speak like, "You know the drill," and "Let's go." We see inside the pawnshop where Brian Dennehy is closing up shop. "Don't forget my angel," the kid says, all annoyed. He pulls up his comic book, so he can read it in the pitch darkness. The dad figure is wearing what appears to be a shiny Ronald Reagan mask. Oh, clever Point Break reference there. He also has a shotgun. We're going robbin', kids!