So being unemployed, more or less, is starting to get to me. A few weeks ago, I was like, "It's the summer of Jessica!," all lounging around my living room topless, and taking large bites out a block of cheese. Now, not so much. Adding insult to injury, the action figures have started haranguing me about getting a job so they can be supported in the manner to which they'd become accustomed. It's very irritating. Anyway. I know you're all, blah, blah, blah, get to the recap, SlowTyper McPromisedThisWeeksAgo.
So, welcome to Gibsonton, Florida. Two little boys happily splash in their back-yard pool. Enjoy it while it lasts, kids, because happiness never does on this show. Especially not happiness in the pool. There are too many bad things that can happen in the pool. Like drowning. Or getting sucked into the drain. Or getting eaten by something coming out of the drain. Or impregnated by something coming out of the drain. Impregnated, and then eaten. And, see, I'm right, because there's something in the underbrush watching the kids splash each other. It's hard to say what, exactly, watches them. It seems to be human, but there's something weird going on with its skin; it's all scaly. The scaly thing rustles in the bushes. One of the boys looks up, briefly, but then gets right back to the splashing. The happy, innocent, doomed splashing! Scaly walks though the yard, and gets into the pool. It comes closer and closer to the children, and grabs them, roughly! They squeal! With glee. See, it turns out Scaly is their dad. Those wily X-Files writers! Mixing it up like that! He squeezes them and sends them inside to get ready for bed. Scaly peacefully floats in the pool for a moment. But something is watching him from behind a tree. The something comes closer and closer. "What the hell?" Scaly breathes, in the time-honored tradition of Pre-Credit Victims of the Monsters of the Week. I'm sure if Aaron were writing this, he'd have some smarty-pants foreign term for that, but I took six years of French, and all I remember is how to say is "I'm going to the beach," which was the first sentence I ever learned. Eventually, the Monster of the Week -- which must be fairly small, since I can't see what it looks like underwater -- splashes into the pool and headbutts Scaly, who screams and screams and screams as blood stains the pool red. The camera pans to a van, the side of which reads "Alligator Man." Hey, I wrote a little poem, there.