Episode Report Card
Demian: A | 1 USERS: A+
The Hardy Boys Do Hollywood

Stage Nine. Aftermath. During the production shutdown, Marty The Dirty Little Whore Dump apparently incorporated all of his newfound knowledge of the supernatural into a revised shooting script -- especially that little trick with the cell phone and the shotgun -- for we are now watching the bimbo and the fratboy pretty much reenact the earlier scene for the benefit of the movie cameras. The Unctuous McG's way stoked with the results. Meanwhile, Darling Sammy towers above The Dirty Little Whore Dump and, after The Unctuous McG calls for a break, he sighs disapprovingly, "You find out there's an afterlife, and this is what you do with it?" "I need a little jazz on the page," The Filthy Little Dirty Little Dirty Whore Dump shrugs, entirely unrepentant. Sam whatevers and exits as Herb Alpert's "Green Peppers" jauntily kicks in on the soundtrack.

Out on the lot, Wall-Eyed Tara's trailer is rocking. Darling Sammy's not rude enough to come knocking, of course, but then again, he doesn't really need to, for barely has the rocking finished when El Deano barges out, pulling on his shirt. Wall-Eyed Tara emerges into the doorway clad only in a blue terrycloth robe. She leans casually and grins, "You're one hell of a PA." Dean thanks her. Suavely. Saint Sammy Of The Celibately Afflicted clutches his pearls and wigs because he himself will never, ever, ever get laid again after what happened first with his fiancée and then with that motherfucking werewolf in San Francisco. Under Tara's admiringly watchful eye -- and I do mean "eye," singular, because the other one's currently occupied with something happening over by the sink in her trailer -- El Deano ambles off towards the lot's exit as Saint Sammy bewilderedly trails behind.

And in the end, Our Dear Boys walk off into the sunset. Well, it's a backdrop painted as a sunset that gets rolled away just as Dean practically sings, "God, I love this town!" but behind it is an actual, honest-to-God CGI sunset over the studio gates, so, you know. It's there.

Next week: Oh, forget it. The boards are already filled with "Dean drops the soap" and "Saint Sammy sells his brother for cigarettes" jokes. For me to add to them before the damn thing airs would be pointless. "Have a faaaaab-ulous time, my pretties!"

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