Wound-Up Penguin

Episode Report Card
Pamie: F | 3 USERS: A+
All The Fun Of An Exorcism

"Hillcrest Motel," reads the incredibly PhotoShopped sign. Eric and Jaye enter room 233 with as much sneaking as possible. Seriously. Jaye looks like the sign for the Neighborhood Watch, that shadow man with the hat pulled down low that's supposed to represent "Burglar." Because they think we're stupid, the camera moves down the hall so we can see they're next to room 231.

Jaye immediately presses her head to the wood paneling, trying to listen to room 231. So does Eric. "I don't hear anything," Jaye whispers. "What if we're too late? What if he's already beat [sic] her to death with a bag of oranges for withholding trick money?" Eric says that if the woman had trick money, she wouldn't live in a barrel. Jaye: "Yes, but maybe she's just a lazy whore. That happens, right? They can't all have hearts of gold and good work ethics." This moment brought to you by White Privilege. White Privilege: When it's time to make a completely uninformed opinion in order to try to make a joke, use the word "whore." Instant comedy. Jaye and Eric continue whispering, for no reason, as Jaye says that this motel is totally pay by the hour. Eric continues to call it a hotel, and says it's a transient place for people who aren't sure whether they're coming or going. Isn't this supposed to be a tourist town? Wouldn't there be tens of hotels lining the streets? ["Oh, there are." -- Wing Chun] Aren't all hotels, by their very nature, transient? I am now going to turn off the logic portion of my brain because I'm still in the first fifteen minutes of this episode and I'll never stop recapping if I don't just let the inanity flow over me like a stoner. Dude, maybe if I smoked pot this show would be hilarious. That's kind of what the pacing is like. The weird music, the awkward silences, the stupid clothes, the talking objects. This show is high! That's what it is. This show is totally high, and when you watch it sober it feels like when you watch high people. You end up smiling, all frozen with that grin while you watch them laugh, hoping you'll figure out what's so damn funny, wanting to have the good time they seem to be having, but you don't have the benefit of your brain's being numbed by chemicals, so you don't get it because there's nothing to get. I've figured you out, Wonderfalls, you pothead. I got it. I'm gonna go get a bag of Doritos and totally drop out with you. You wasted bastard. You are tripping balls and I am the square who's driving everyone home. Who hotboxed my bathroom? Wonderfalls, you spilled bong water on my carpet, you asshole. No, you can't get the cat high. No, it's not funny. No, you can't eat my Ramen. Because it's all I have and I have to eat tomorrow. Why is that so funny? Don't point at me. Get off my pillow. Stop laughing in my ear! No, I don't sound like a horse. What the fuck are you talking about? Fucking pothead losers.

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