The California energy crisis continues its debilitating plague on the Bookhouse set, its plot-obscuring darkness attempting to tantalize the lazy recapper with promises of linear, fluorescent-soaked sets just a simple fast-forward button away. But alas, the waning days of Twin Peaks recaps are upon us, so I'll continue my intrepid task of humming a happy chorus of an appropriate tune contemporary with the original airing of this episode (I was thinking of something in the "I'm having a wonderful time, but I'd rather be recapping in the dark, recapping in the dark, recapping in the dark" variety), and charge back my ophthalmologist visits to the MBTV Health Insurance Claims Department. God bless 'em.
A pitch-black opening shot of a taxidermed deer head pans us across a bookshelf, the corner of a chair, and a lamp with a bulb just bright enough to successfully illuminate, well, itself. Some scary, scary pan flute accompaniment just barely drowns out the roar of directors and other technical advisors hurling swear words of frustration around the set as the cameras bump into concealed furniture and other soon-to-be-on-workman's-comp members of the Lynch/Frost payroll ("Ow! That's my foot!" "What in the name of Lesli Linka Glatter is that CHAIR doing there?" "I may be the best boy, but that doesn't mean I'm the best at SEEING IN THE DARK!" and so forth). Pan past (I think) the hand of the fallen officer commissioned to stand guard, and then we're over to the bed, in which our hero, Harry "Dewey Defeats" Truman lies, unconscious. Pause. Pause. Pause. Zzzzz. Oh, sorry. I'm up now. Two hands, rather mannish (though, to the touch, that's not wholly out of the ordinary for Truman), creep up Truman's back and into the frame, and we come to realize that, if we've ever watched this show before, that the mysteriously Bond-villain-esque, bizarrely-Nordic-in-her-proportions "Jones" has come to enact some horrific vengeance on Truman. Vengeance, apparently, of the sexiest, sexiest kind. She lies on his back and makes with the nookie, whispering, "You like that?" Is this vote open to the public? Because, no. She sits up behind him and pulls out a small bottle, the contents of which she dabs on her fingers and then rubs on his lips. Truman kind of moans the sleepy "guh" noise of pre-coital mischief that we as human beings have no need to hear, ever, unless we're inciting that noise in someone else or actually making it ourselves. Because otherwise it's just clothed porn with ill-proportioned actors such as these. And that's just not sexy at all. Guh, indeed.
The excruciatingly slow pace of Jones's plan for pure evil advances with every Austin Powers cliché possible. She kisses him full on the lips, which, in my hazy, long-lost remembrance of such things, does serve in causing the recipient of such attention to actually begin, y'know, waking up. But apparently Jones won't consider her mission complete without the ol' two-for-one Nookie/Death special, and as she straddles him from above (I know. Put the kids to bed and smash open the box with the emergency V-Chip in it. This recap has been rated TV-Older-Than-Our-Making-The-Band-Demographic), Truman looks up and hallucinates the gauzy, floating face of the once and future Josie "Boy, Wonder" Packard. Must have been the man hands that led his thoughts there. Josie tells him, "It's me. I'm here." I'd offer my usual plaintive cries of the "just stay dead!" variety, but they'd get all muddled up when they met in midair with my usual plaintive cries of the "well, I guess you can't keep a good man down" variety. But! Suddenly, Josie rematerializes into Jones, who whips a piece of lethal dental floss out of seeming nowhere and wraps it around a suddenly very perked up (thankfully, not like that. ANYMORE) Truman. She wraps it around his neck and pulls hard. She couldn't have skipped the last seduction and just done this the moment she walked into the room, when Truman would never have known what hit him? I guess she was waiting for the pool of piranhas to heat up or the Fembots to get into position. Truman wakes up just in time to get into the struggle with all his might, keeping a thumb between his neck and the Johnson & Johnson product-placement, slamming Jones up against the wall and knocking her backwards onto the couch, unconscious. He looks at her quizzically. She looks dead. So much looking, you actually believe for a minute they can see each other.