First of all, The Boss chapter fifteen is up!
Second of all, Roadhouse will be up tomorrow night. Thanks for being patient with our late upload times while we adjust to D-Rock’s new job.
Roadhouse update and The Boss!
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Trout Nation Posts
This post is the beginning of a series about my favorite YouTubers. I promise they won’t all be about spiders.
I dislike spiders. Immensely. I have blogged about my hatred in the past. Last fall, I went to a reptile show with D-Rock, and it seemed like everybody there had fucking deli containers overflowing with goddamned tarantulas.
What kind of insane person voluntarily brings something like this into their home? I wondered judgmentally as we wandered the aisles. I overheard a guy talking about preferring one breed of tarantula to another, saying, “Yeah, with these they don’t shoot those little hairs off. Those can really irritate your skin, so if you’re planning to handle it, you need to get a guy like this.” WTF, who would handle a spider?
These people:
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aNHK565cVe8]
This is TarantulaGuy1976’s channel. I don’t know exactly how I wound up there, because I fucking hate spiders. But I did wind up there, and I watched a ton of his videos. Why? Because I got sucked into the saga of a molt gone wrong.
Over the course of six videos, TarantulaGuy1976 documents his care for a spider that he obviously cares about very much. I started watching in the middle, when he surgically removed the hardened shell that the spider couldn’t dislodge on its own. Then I went back and watched from the beginning. I still can’t believe how invested I became in his struggle to save his pet, an animal which I would, under normal circumstances, happily daydream about beating to death with a shovel.
It’s not about the animal, though. It’s about this guy, who clearly has an amazingly open heart if he can connect with something as ooky as a giant spider, and his devotion and care. I know people who haven’t treated their elderly relatives with as much loving respect as he shows for the tarantula.
The strangest thing is, his tenderness toward this spider has changed my view of them, somewhat. Now, I’m not about to run out and adopt one of Satan’s fuzziest abominations for my very own, but I’m not quite as creeped out by them as I was before. And I was, unfairly, stereotyping “spider people” as weirdos, another ignorant assumption of mine that this guy blew all to smithereens.
If you have some time to kill- and you don’t mind watching what amounts to the spider equivalent of a dog tragedy movie- watch these videos after the jump.
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LDr3RneJ99E?list=UUU_EzYoj9nO_2hv-fXP5-vQ]
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9B1TP3BsMI]
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_3IW-od198]
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8P5hmFatoSw]
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mEjtqaq_LS0]
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OZp4x879EKQ]
In every generation there is a chosen one. She alone is probably going to die from this cold, so start planning her memorial right now. She will also recap every episode of Buffy The Vampire Slayer with an eye to the following themes:
- Sex is the real villain of the Buffy The Vampire Slayer universe.
- Giles is totally in love with Buffy.
- Joyce is a fucking terrible parent.
- Willow’s magic is utterly useless (this one won’t be an issue until season 2, when she gets a chance to become a witch)
- Xander is a textbook Nice Guy.
- The show isn’t as feminist as people claim.
- All the monsters look like wieners.
- If ambivalence to possible danger were an Olympic sport, Team Sunnydale would take the gold.
- Angel is a dick.
- Harmony is the strongest female character on the show.
- Team sports are portrayed in an extremely negative light.
- Some of this shit is racist as fuck.
- Science and technology are not to be trusted.
WARNING: Some people have mentioned they’re watching along with me, and that’s awesome, but I’ve seen the entire series already and I’ll probably mention things that happen in later seasons. So… you know, take that under consideration, if you’re a person who can’t enjoy something if you know future details about it.
This is one of my all-time favorite episodes of BtVS, because it’s about one of my biggest fears: ventriloquism. I am terrified of ventriloquists and their dummies. The only one I’ve ever really liked was Lamb Chop, but only because she was really a sock puppet. Sherri Lewis remains suspect, even in death.
It’s also, dare I say, one of the least problematic episodes. Sexual Harassment Dummy aside, there’s really nothing glaringly wrong in this episode, and hardly anything on our handy list of issues gets used! Huzzah! We can just enjoy ourselves!
Anyway, I really liked the way this episode duped me into believing one thing for a really long time, then flipped it, and genuinely surprised me.
We get a weird angled shot of a stretching ballerina’s crotch while a scary voice promises that he will be whole and new. Then the camera zooms around a bunch of kids practicing various talents, from the tuba to magic to an awkward looking kid holding a really scary ventriloquist’s dummy:
You remember him from your nightmares, I’m sure.
On stage, Cordelia is “singing” the Whitney Houston hit “The Greatest Love of All.”
Singing is kind of a strong word for it, really.
And Giles looks like he wants to kill himself, because once you’ve heard Cordelia’s singing, you’ve already gazed into the mouth of damnation:
At least this headache won’t be the result of a serious brain injury.
Some of you have asked, “Jenny, Cordelia is a bully and a horrible person. How can you like her?” I was waiting for this episode, this very scene, to address this. Cordelia does horrible things, it’s true. She’s mean to her classmates, she views life as a competition that she will win at all costs, and she doesn’t care who she hurts to get to the top. These are not admirable qualities. However, what resonates with me is her confidence. Cordelia never once stops to question whether her terrible singing is good. She believes it is, and that’s all it takes to make her put herself out there. What’s more amazing is, she does this even though we learn later in the series that she has the same anxieties as every other teen at Sunnydale High. Yet she overcomes them just by thinking she’s the bomb. That’s some serious power of positive thinking.
So, while I do not admire Cordelia’s actions all the time, I do admire her overall personality. Later, on Angel, when life has hammered on her and she becomes a fully realized character instead of a stereotypical mean girl villain, this is more apparent. But it’s there from the beginning. Cordelia doesn’t need her fawning sychophants to bolster her; they’re an accepted tribute to the greatness she already knows she is. The fact that this foundation of her personality is there from her first appearances is testament to good character building.
Giles can’t take anymore of Cordelia’s caterwauling and begs her to get off the stage so they can move on to Tuba Girl. Buffy, Xander, and Willow come in, and OMG WILLOW IS WEARING MY FAVORITE SHIRT FROM HIGH SCHOOL!
Looking good, ducky!
I wore that shirt OUT in school, but like Willow, I wore it under a hoodie, because it was a baby doll t-shirt and my Catholic high school was not down with the bare midriff.
Giles tells the kids that he’s being forced to run the talent show on the orders of the “new fuhrer,” Principal Snyder:
Giles: “He thought it would behoove me to have more contact with the students. I did try to explain that my vocational choice of librarian was a deliberate attempt to minimize said contact, but he would have none of it.”
WTF is wrong with this school? Remember, from the vantage point of an outside observer, Giles is spending a lot of time having hushed, urgent conversations with these three students in the library, sometimes after hours. One of these girls has a picture of the two of them together in her locker. And they think this guy needs to spend more time around kids? Yes, we know he’s a Watcher and he doesn’t want to be one, and he certainly doesn’t like spending time around teenagers, but nobody else in Sunnydale knows this. Without that crucial piece of evidence, things are just getting creepier and creepier.
Hey, there’s an interesting angle of Giles that I’ve actually never considered before… he told Buffy in “Never Kill a Boy on The First Date” that he didn’t want to be a Watcher. So, in a way, Giles and Buffy are living parallel lives, enslaved to destinies they had no say in.
Huh.
Anyway, Buffy has to crack on Giles a little bit, because that’s their schtick:
Buffy: “Giles, into every generation is born one who must run the annual talentless show. You cannot escape your destiny.”
Giles tells Buffy that if she had any decency, she would help him, and she tells him she’s going to do what he usually does, and just watch. Willow and Xander get in on the teasing, too, but their satisfaction is short-lived, because HEY IT’S QUARK!
Isn’t it amazing what the Federation can do with plastic surgery?
Quark is the new principal, Principal Snyder, who is replacing Flutie, the guy who got eaten at his desk. He is nowhere near as nice and tolerant as Flutie was. I guess when you’re replacing a dude who got literally eaten by students, you’re going to go for the one who seems a little tougher, discipline wise. Snyder has branded the Scoobies “real antisocial types” and orders them to “integrate” by performing in the talent show.
As the kids sit by in mute horror at this cruel twist of fate, Morgan and his dummy take the stage. Buffy is afraid of dummies, and Willow thinks they’re cute. So, that’s some pretty early foreshadowing of Evil!Willow in season six. Because only a monster would like dummies.
Morgan’s act starts off horrible. He’s not a very good ventriloquist, his jokes are stale, and he’s sweating like a sinner at Sunday mass. Giles is about to give him that old timey vaudeville hook when suddenly, Sid the dummy’s voice gets a lot rougher and deeper, and he starts cracking on Morgan, who pretends it isn’t a part of the routine. Everyone, even Buffy, is laughing at him.
Cut to the locker room. Hey, here’s a tip, if you’re a Sunnydale High student, don’t change in the locker rooms. Because in a weird, purple, up-angled shot, we see a female student get attacked by something that vows it will be whole again. Or something like that. I went and got coffee during that part because I knew I had time during the opening credits.
Back from the opening, Xander is freaking out about the dramatic scene he, Buffy, and Willow have entered in the talent show. Willow thinks it’s the easiest thing to do, and she’s probably right; it’s not like they can fight evil as their talent, and it’s really the only thing they’ve been practicing lately. We also find out that Willow plays the piano, she’s just really shy about it.
Morgan’s dummy starts sexually harassing the girls and insisting that he’s real, and Buffy threatens to burn him. Because as we all know from her transcripts, Buffy is excellent and burning stuff down. Giles walks in, enduring Principal Snyder’s lengthy diatribe about how fucking awful teenagers are:
Snyder: “Kids today need discipline. It’s not a popular word these days, discipline. I know Principal Flutie would have said, ‘Kids need understanding, kids are human beings.’ That’s the kind of wooly-headed liberal thinking that leads to being eaten.”
Giles listens to all this and tries to stammer a word in edge-wise, but it’s clear from his reaction to Snyder’s monologue that what Giles is really thinking is, “Jesus, this guy hates kids even more than I do.” There will be no bonding here.
Truefact: People actually ship this. Because fandom is sometimes terrible.
Just as Snyder vows that Sunnydale is going to be totally different now that he’s in charge, we cut to the scene of yet another locker room murder. Hey, Sunnydale? Try putting a fucking security guard in there or something. (8)
Giles tells the kids everything he knows, that the girl killed was a dancer from the talent show, and her heart was removed. The presence of a knife at the scene of the crime points to a regular human murder, rather than something demonic, which would have involved claws and teeth. Though Willow, Xander, and Giles all figure it really was just a vicious attack by a person, Buffy thinks something is up. She reminds her friends and the viewer about the Hellmouth, and how there’s all sorts of ooky goings on in the area. Giles tells them to talk to the other kids in the talent show, since they were the last people to see dancer girl alive.
Buffy interviews Tuba Girl, who says:
Tuba Girl: “I didn’t know her too well. There’s that whole dancer/band rivalry, you know?
No, I do not know. But I would pay money to watch a street fight between the two factions.
Giles interviews the talent show Magician Guy, who tells him that he saw Dancer Girl talking to someone the day she died. Meanwhile, Willow asks Eric Stoltz in Mask who Dancer Girl was talking to. Big surprise, it was the creepy fucking kid with the perverted dummy.
Seriously, I can’t be the only one who sees it.
Xander gets stuck interviewing Cordelia, who is profoundly affected by the death of the girl whose name she doesn’t remember correctly. The talent show kids tell the Scoobies that Morgan has been acting paranoid and muttering to himself, and that he’s been seen arguing with his dummy. Oh, and Cordelia continues to make it all about her.
Buffy walks into the auditorium to find Morgan’s dummy, Sid, talking about who will be next. Morgan is surprised to see Buffy there and tries to play it off as a rehearsal. You know, that classic ventriloquist routine about covering up and murder and planning to kill again? That slays ’em!
That was a double pun, by the way, because slayer, and also murder, and…
No one appreciates my art.
Anyway, Morgan tells Buffy he was talking to Sid and wasn’t really paying attention to Dancer Girl. Then he gets a sudden headache, and Sid takes over, telling Buffy that Morgan has said all he’s going to say on the subject. Morgan argues with Sid and stuffs him back in his case. Realizing Morgan is slightly unhinged, Buffy apologizes to him for making him mad, and he assures her he isn’t upset, and tries to explain that it’s not him, it’s the dummy. But even he hears how crazy he sounds, and quickly grabs his case and leaves.
The Scoobies convene in Giles’s office, where for once, he’s not wearing a suit. I say “for once,” but wait until he hits his midlife crisis/alcoholic/unemployment depression in season four. We’ll all be begging for a return to tweed. The gang decides that it’s definitely Morgan doing the killing, but Buffy still thinks a demon might be somehow involved. Giles is trying to research the possibility of a demon, but he’s got this whole talent show thing sucking up his time. Buffy and Xander argue that a talent show is the last thing they should be thinking of at a time like this, and one can’t help but think they’re less interested in catching a murderer than just not being in a talent show. Giles tells them there’s really no way around it; they’ve all caught Snyder’s eye, and the last thing a Slayer needs is to call unwanted attention to herself. So, Buffy sets out to check Morgan’s locker for a heart.
But, she gets caught:
Note the far away quality of this shot. This tells us someone is spying on them.
Snyder is not a fan of students being on campus after hours:
Snyder: “There are things I will not tolerate: students loitering on campus after school, horrible murders with hearts being removed. And also smoking.
Dedication to the future of America.
Buffy insists she doesn’t do anything from the proscribed actions list, and Snyder warns her that he knows something is up with her, and he’s going to figure out what. So, basically he’s the only person in Sunnydale that actually notices what the students in the high school are doing, ever, but he’s also the person who hates them the most.
Buffy tells Snyder she’s supposed to get something from Morgan’s locker, but when she opens the dummy’s case, it’s empty.
So, who was watching this go down?
Nope, not creepy at all.
Cut to Morgan fighting with Sid, or maybe himself, because we don’t see Sid’s face to know if his eyes and mouth are moving independently or not. Either way, “Sid” is saying that he knows Buffy is “the last one” needed for him to get free.
At the Maison du Summers, Buffy argues with her mom re: talent show attendance. See, Buffy’s mom wants to go to support Buffy, and Buffy is having none of it. Joyce asks Buffy if anything else is wrong, but Buffy tells her there’s just a lot of stuff going on. Then she gets ready for bed, and when she turns out the light…
WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?!
After the commercial break, Buffy wakes to the pitter patter of creepy little feet. She screams, and Joyce runs in. Buffy insists there’s something in her bed, but Joyce reassures her there’s nothing there, before telling her not to sleep with the window open. And Buffy realizes that she didn’t.
At talentless show rehearsals, Magician Guy is not doing the greatest. Cordelia follows Giles around, badgering him about the order of acts in the show, and he takes a tip from Xander and implies that her hair is messed up. It works, Cordelia runs away to do emergency hair maintenance, and Giles has a little giggle about it and OMG, allow me a moment of squee.
But things get decidedly less funny when Buffy turns up and tells the Scoobies that Sid the dummy was in her room the night before, and that he was alive. By the way, Sarah Michelle Gellar’s delivery of “And he was alive,” is probably the cutest thing that has ever happened on this series. The Scoobies are having a hard time processing the allegation that a ventriloquist dummy attacked Buffy and was working alone:
Buffy: “It was like it pounced on my face.”
Xander: “Like a cat?”
Buffy: “Yeah, exactly. But when I turned the lights on it was already gone. I think it went out my window”
Xander: “Like a cat.”
Buffy: “Yeah. No!”
Giles suggests that Buffy had a nightmare about dummies, and despite her insistence that she’s the Slayer and she knows something funny is going on, they all pretty much agree that Morgan is probably just murdering people. But to err on the side of caution, Giles has researched a group of demons who masquerade as teenagers and need to steal certain human organs every seven years to keep from reverting to their original, ooky forms.
Hey, isn’t it funny that Anthony Head was in an episode of Buffy where people were getting their organs stolen, and then he was in Repo! The Genetic Opera stealing people’s organs?
Anyway, Giles tells them about how the demons are super strong, and Morgan is getting weaker and weaker. So no choices have really been eliminated here. Morgan could still be the murderer, he might just be the murderer who kills people because he needs to conceal his demon bits for another seven years.
Buffy is in class when Morgan’s dummy (who is sitting at Morgan’s desk with him, and no one seems to have a problem with this) turns his head all the way around to creepily stare at her. Cordelia tells Buffy the dummy digs her, and they should tour together in a freak show. But Buffy doesn’t have time for Cordelia’s bully shenanigans at the moment, because this is an evil dummy emergency. When the teacher calls on Morgan and Sid smarts off to her, the teacher confiscates him and sticks him in a cupboard. When Morgan returns later to get the dummy, the teacher tries to connect with him, asking if there are problems at home. Morgan just wants Sid, but when the teacher goes to the cupboard to get him, he’s gone. Morgan flips out, saying Sid knew to wait for him and demanding to know what the teacher has done.
The teacher didn’t lock her shit up, is what she’s done.
Xander stole Sid from the classroom so that Buffy could finally talk to Morgan alone. He also tries to get Buffy to believe the dummy is totally harmless, by pounding its head on the desk and making it talk like a creepy old man. Giles tells Willow they have more researching to do, and Willow says:
Willow: “Once again I’m banished to the demon section of the card catalogue.”
Remember when people knew what those were?
Giles: “You concentrate on reanimation theory, I’ll peck about in organ harvesting. Unless, of course, you prefer-“
Willow: “That’s okay. You can have the organs.“
“Thanks, Willow, I know I can have the organs.”
I can’t promise that will be the last Repo! reference I make today.
Xander leaves Sid propped up on a chair in the library, and Buffy goes off in search of Morgan in the auditorium. She’s poking around backstage when stuff gets creepy.
And also, DEMON PHOTOBOMB!
Before Buffy can follow her instincts and investigate the creepy, Principal Snyder just shows up out of nowhere, lurking around like the angel of fucking death. Snyder creepily warns Buffy about going places alone, and Buffy tells him she can take care of herself. Which actually gets Snyder to back off and leave, so he’s not the murderer, right?
Back in the library, Willow has good news, everyone!
Willow: “Look what I found in the section on toys and magic: ‘On rare occasions, inanimate objects of human quality, such as dolls and mannequins, already mystically possessed of consciousness, have acted upon their desire to become human by harvesting organs.”
Oh, well, as long as it’s rare then. Jesus, I’m not going to sleep for weeks, and I’m giving my rag doll John Denver the serious stink eye right now.
Aww, I’m just kidding, John Denver. You don’t need to steal my heart, it already belongs to you.
So, this happens:
Now you see him.
Now you don’t.
Backstage in the auditorium, Buffy finally gets Morgan alone:
For all the good that it will do her.
As she backs away from the horrible murder scene, a chandelier falls on her. Because it’s the theatre, and a chandelier always has to fall on somebody. When Buffy regains consciousness, we run into yet another example of how Slayer strength can conveniently fall by the wayside in favor of dramatic tension. In the past, we have seen Buffy rip doorknobs off with her bare hands, punch a lock into a locker to open it, easily pry the lid off a crate her mother couldn’t dislodge with a crowbar, and, oh yeah, fight vampires. But now, she can’t lift the chandelier off herself, even when a dummy starts attacking her with a knife. Come on, show. Regular, non-Slayer humans have been known to rise to enormous feats of strength in times of stress. You hear all the time about some random bystander lifting a burning car off an injured and trapped victim.
Wouldn’t “murder puppet” be more of an incentive?
Buffy gets free and pins Sid to a wall, and they have one of those conversations where two people are clearly talking about two different things:
Sid: “You win. Now you can take your heart and your brain and move on.”
Buffy: “I’m sure they would have made great trophies for your case.”
Sid: “That would have been justice.”
Buffy: “Yeah, except for one thing: you lost, and now you’ll never be human.
Sid: “Yeah, well neither will you.”
Buffy and Sid together: “What?”
Back in the library, Sid shares his origin story with the Scoobies, who are all, well… they’re talking to a dummy. Just look at them:
Willow is actually processing this better than all of them.
Sid tells them he was a demon hunter who ended up cursed into the body of a ventriloquist dummy. Like you do. He’s been tracking down and killing these organ harvesting demons in the hopes of getting his curse lifted. He noticed Buffy’s super strength, and that made him believe she was the organ harvesting demon. Since the demon already has the heart and brain, he should move on. Sid is pretty sure the demon was in the talent show, so by process of elimination. whoever doesn’t show up is the demon. Giles heads to the auditorium to get all the students in a “power circle,” a theatre warm-up that Sid suggests. It’s all pretense to gather them in one place, so they can play “spot the missing demon.”
Backstage, Cordelia is having a freakout:
Cordelia: “I… I can’t go out there. All those people staring at me, and judging me, like I’m some kind of… Buffy. What if I mess up?”
Giles: “Cordelia, there’s an adage that, um, if you’re feeling nervous, then you should imagine the entire audience are in their underwear.”
Cordelia: “Ew! Even Mrs. Franklin?
Giles: “Perhaps not.”
Worst pep talk ever.
Buffy and Sid are up on the catwalk, keeping an eye on the situation on the stage. To kill time before the talent show contestants assemble, they discuss their demon-fighting lives. Buffy tells Sid she’s the Slayer, and he fondly remembers banging a Slayer in the 30’s, before he was a dummy. Buffy correctly deduces that when Sid kills the demon and is freed from his curse, he’ll die. But Sid tells her not to be sad, because he’s lived longer than most demon hunters, or Slayers. This is one of the first times we’re reminded of Buffy’s tenuous mortality. That’ll be important at the end of this season, and then it will be a running theme through the rest of the show. It’s worked in really slyly here. We’re not talking about the danger of Buffy’s life, but the fact that Sid is going to die. But the seed has been planted, we know a little more keenly now that Buffy’s life is destined to be brutal and short.
The talent acts assemble on stage briefly. None of the students are missing. Buffy jumps down from the catwalk to confer with Giles, and they both agree that the demon isn’t a part of the talent show. But it’s almost time for curtain, and Giles has to run the show. He sends Buffy off in search of the demon, and spots Snyder lurking in the wings. Sid has gone missing, and while Buffy looks for him she finds…
Oh, so THAT’S where I left that.
In the library, Buffy laments that she’ll never stop washing her hands, while Xander voices his suspicion about Sid, suggesting they’ve been “Keyser Soze-ed,” and thus spoilering the end of The Usual Suspects for anyone who hasn’t seen it yet. Which is really your own fault, it’s been out plenty long enough.
Hey, remember when Buffy found that dead body backstage? What’s going on with that? Presumably it’s still there, because we haven’t seen the police show up and the talent show is going ahead. So kids are swarming backstage and nobody has noticed they’re having to step over Morgan’s decapitated body? Maybe it just happens so often in Sunnydale, people have gotten numb to corpse presence at school events. This is a loose end that never gets tied up, pretty sloppy in an otherwise awesomely written episode.
Willow hacks the school’s files and finds out that Morgan had brain cancer. The demon never got the healthy brain it needed to keep its form. Since it went after Morgan, who had super great grades, Buffy figures it’s going to go after the smartest brain it can find.
Cut to Giles, explaining something about velocity to Magician Guy, who is rigging up a guillotine and complimenting Giles on how smart he is.
Cut back to Buffy, Willow, and Xander in the library, who are all concerned that Willow is going to be the demon’s next target.
Cut back to Giles, watching the guillotine cut a melon in half.
So, we’re on the same page here everybody?
Magician Guy wants Giles to help him with his “trick” by sticking his head in the guillotine. Then, in case anyone needs help catching up, we see Magician Guy’s hand. It’s looking pretty demony.
Meanwhile, in the library, Buffy is freaking out. She doesn’t want to wait for the demon to come to them, and they’ve ruled out all the people in the talent show. Willow points out that they came to that conclusion before they learned that the demon hadn’t found a brain:
Buffy: “So it probably is one of them, and- and Giles doesn’t know it. He’s with them all right now!”
Xander: “Giles can handle himself. I mean, he is really… smart.“
So, where is this allegedly smart guy?
Just sticking my head in this guillotine, like really smart people do.
If I were this demon, that would be my test for smartness. “Did he willingly stick his head in my decapitation machine? Then he’s not smart enough for me to harvest his brain.” It seems pretty simple, doesn’t it?
Giles: “S-shouldn’t it be aimed at my neck?”
Demon Magician: “No. This way your scalp gets sliced off, and your brains just come pouring out.”
Giles: “What exactly is the trick?”
Demon Magician: “Trick?”
Here’s the thing; the first half of the episode leads us to believe that the demon is Morgan, or Morgan’s dummy, or possibly the new Principal. When it turns out to be random Magician Guy, we as an audience should be pissed off at all the red herrings, right? Not necessarily, because this is what this episode has done so brilliantly: in every scene involving the talent show, we have seen Magician Guy. He was in the very opening. He was interviewed by Giles after the murder. We saw his trick with the disappearing cabinet go wrong. He’s been constantly in the background, in the pool of possible demon offenders. So, when the big reveal happens, we don’t feel like it’s coming from out of left field. I know some commenters have said they read these recaps to learn about writing, so there’s a big one for you: you have to put some work into a “gotcha” moment, so the reader/viewer doesn’t feel cheated or like you’re pulling some serious Deus Ex Machina nonsense on them.
So, Magician Guy starts chopping at the rope for the guillotine. I feel like it would have been more effective to just untie it and let go of the rope, but whatever, I’m not a demon or a French executioner. I assume they did it this way for the dramatic potential of watching the rope fray a little more with each strike of the hatchet. It’s nearly cut when Buffy tackles Magician Guy and starts fighting him. The rope breaks, but Xander grabs it, saving Giles from certain death.
One good thing about Xander: he saves people’s lives like crazy. And he never gets any credit for it, which is a shame.
As Buffy fights the now totally demonriffic Magician Guy, aided by Sid- who has a fuck-off huge knife and will star in all of my nightmares from now on- Willow frees Giles from the guillotine. Buffy manages to get the demon under the blade, and they decapitate it. Sid says they have to get the heart in order to make sure the demon is dead.
Seriously, how is this not mentally scarring everyone right now? It has a KNIFE.
Buffy offers to do the job for Sid, since it will kill him, but Sid does the honors and promptly slumps over dead.
But remember how there was going to be a talent show starting in fifteen minutes or whatever?
The arts!
In the audience, Snyder declares that he doesn’t get it, and we go to credits. Then, in a very rare post end-title card sequence, we see Buffy, Xander, and Willow doing their “talent.”
The picture kind of says it all.
Giles watches in extreme second hand embarrassment as Xander flubs his lines and Willow, gripped by stage fright, runs away.
Next week, we meet Buffy’s dad!
It’s Roadhouse Time!
Posted in Uncategorized
This posted on YouTube some time in the night, but I was in a Benadryl stupor and didn’t post it to the blog. This week, on Roadhouse, we discuss bad days and how to cope with them:
[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l0M07LVtus8?list=UUvXmvayN9vgiTU8vjUhriCw]
You’re not having deja vu, this is cross-posted to The Boss blog, as well.
Are you tired of waiting for chapter by chapter updates? Wanna read the entire novel right now? Well, it’s your lucky day, because from now until May 11th, you can register to win the uncorrected proof of The Boss. The winner will get to know what happens to Sophie and Neil before anyone else. That’s some pretty big incentive.
I’m going to tell you where to go and how to win, but first, I have to share something that blew me away this morning. I logged in to blogger to make this post, and this is what I found:
Over a hundred thousand views? That’s unbelievable! Thank you so much to everyone who has tweeted, facebooked, blogged, or just outright badgered your friends into reading.
So, now you want to know how to win the full version of The Boss. Over the past weeks, people have been fan-casting Neil in the comments section of each chapter. We want you to go to That’s What I’m Talking About and tell us what real-life person you’re imagining as Neil Elwood. And of course, enter the Rafflecopter giveaway. Follow the instructions and you can earn up to 5 entries per day!
Writing Neil and Sophie’s story has been the most fun I’ve ever had writing. Your reception of this project has been overwhelming. Thank you so much for reading, and I’ll see you next week with chapter fifteen!
Hey guys! Last night, I posted chapter fourteen of The Boss early, because someone pointed out how shitty is was that they were getting snow in the midwestern United States. I took pity on them, because for freaking ONCE, Michigan is getting some actually awesome weather right now. So, you can find chapter fourteen here.
This Saturday, you’re also going to be able to enter to win the entire uncorrected .pdf proof of The Boss. As in, you’d get to read the ending ahead of everyone else. So, tune in on Saturday for the link to that contest.
Also, I’m sorry I haven’t gotten the Buffy recap up. I’m struggling with some hell combo of allergies and the common cold, on top of adjusting to my new seizure medication. It’s like being on a roller coaster except for it’s no fun and there’s more nausea. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Keep on rockin’ in the free world, and as always, you guys are the absolute best.
One of my tweeps, who will remain anonymous so I don’t accidentally impact her livelihood, managed to get her hands on a copy of E.L. James’s soulless cash grab writing journal, and took pictures to share with all of you:
I assume the key is a metaphor for unlocking the secrets of blatantly ripping off another author’s work and making crazy mad bank on it.
But what does it look like inside?
I imagine this is what people will be saying when someone shows them this styled up and branded blank book and says, “It cost $9.99.”
When it was first announced, we were horrified to learn that Inner Goddess: A Journal was going to feature writing “advice” from E.L. James herself.
Isn’t that just the most precious advice from a fanfic writer? Shake off the bullshit and you find the core of the sentiment: “I didn’t write it for you, I wrote it for myself and I don’t care if you like it!” Spend any time at all perusing the reviews at FanFiction.net and you’ll find this same statement over and over from immature authors responding to even the mildest forms of criticism. I can only assume further pages of Inner Goddess share wisdom like, “I had to write it for school, I don’t care what you think!” and “Don’t like, don’t read!”
One must assume “So long, suckers,” was considered tacky.
Heads up, you could buy nine notebooks at the Dollar Store for the amount you would pay for this one. Alternately, for four more dollars you could buy a Moleskine, and those fuckers last forever. Also, no one has written a bunch of twee shit about reaching for your dreams inside of it.
So, a fool and his money, I guess is what I’m getting at here.
Thing The First: My grandparents brought over a box of those pre-made Rice Krispies treats for the kids. You know, I remember a time when my grandparent bought ME those pre-made Rice Krispies treats, but whatever. I bitterly digress.
Anyway. I was trying to get the box open. If there is one thing I am not good with, it’s packaging. Even simple, non-window bearing envelopes give me troubles. And this box was glued shut. So, I asked my husband for help, and he just walked away. Sensing that I would perhaps exercise poor judgement in this situation, he returned to find me using one of those rounded-blade, metal icing spatulas to jimmy the box open. Picture Steve Martin in Roxanne using the credit card to open Daryl Hannah’s front door, and but with a fat lady and a box of treats. Obviously, my husband had to stop this, because he didn’t want to drive me to the ER. He muscled me out of the way, manfully tore open the box, and lifted the lid so that I could gaze upon the bounty within.
It was like looking into the Arc of The Covenant, but your face doesn’t melt off and there aren’t any Nazis standing around. Oh, and the Arc of the The Covenant is full of Rice Krispies treats.
I’m about to reach out and take one. My fingers are nearly inside the box. And that asshole slams the lid down and puts the entire stash where I can’t reach it. Not on the highest shelf in the cupboard, but on top of the very cupboard itself.
I have seen the face of true evil, my dear, dear readers. And his name is Joe.
I stood there, silently mouthing my screams of “Why! Why! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” so that my anguish would not awaken our children and disturb them or alert them to the eating of Rice Krispies treats.
And Joe said, “Why would I open the box and show it to you, like a treasure chest, then put it up on the highest spot, where you can’t reach it? For this. For this moment.”
Thing The Second: As I explained the Ana-Steele-is-Mary-Bennet slam in my recent 50 Shades Freed recap:
Jenny: “Trust me, you don’t get it because you’ve never read Pride and Prejudice, but that is a sick burn.”
Joe: “Oooh, yeah. Girl burn.”
And yes, “girl burn” was said in admiration.
Fifty Shades Freed chapter 14 or “My god. My god, there is actually something CORRECT in this book.”
Posted in Uncategorized
Before we get started, some links!
Sean sent this article about how the Khaleesi might be Ana in the 50 Shades movie. Oh jeez.
Second, check out this video Katharine Coldiron shared with us, in which Ron Charles discusses why E.L. James was named, quite rightly, publishing person of the year.
Then last night, when I was done watching videos of people popping ingrown hairs and cleaning their ear wax out and all that other weird shit I watch on youtube, I watched this video of Stephen King talking about 50 Shades of Grey. This link will start the video at 48:20, which is where he addresses 50 Shades, but if you’ve got an hour to kill and you’re into writing, it’s really worth watching the whole Q & A, because he’s fucking brilliant and super laid back.
Okay, so when we last left everybody in this clusterfuck, Elliot had just proposed to Kate.
The attention of the entire restaurant is trained on Kate and Elliot, waiting with bated breath as one. The anticipation is unbearable. Silence stretches like a taut rubber band. The atmosphere is oppressive, apprehensive, and yet hopeful.
It’s only oppressive to Ana because, as stated, Kate is the center of attention and not her.
Jeez- he could have asked her privately.
Wait, what was that?
Jeez- he could have asked her privately.
Is that… wait. Guys. GUYS.
…
………..
……………..
I THINK E.L. JAMES GOT SOMETHING RIGHT!
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[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xdCrZfTkG1c]
Oh fuck, that’s right. Even though Ana apparently understands that a private proposal is less embarrassing and exerts a lot less pressure on the person being proposed to, these books are still a steaming pile of shit. I guess it’s a good thing I stopped my celebration before posting Liza Minnelli singing “New York, New York,” or David Hasselhoff singing “I’ve Been Looking For Freedom” atop the crumbling Berlin Wall or some shit like that. Because that level of enthusiasm would have been embarrassing.
So, of course Kate says yes, and Elliot gives her the ring he picked out with Gia, which Ana finally gets even though it was telegraphed super fucking hard all through the last chapter.
Christian orders champagne to celebrate and tells Kate:
“I hope you are as happy in your marriage as I am in mine.”
That’s rude.
Mia wants to go clubbing like, right now.
“I think we should ask Elliot and Kate what they’d like to do.”
As one, we turn expectantly to them. Elliot shrugs and Kate turns puce. Her carnal intent toward her fiance is so clear I nearly spit four-hundred-dollar champagne all over the table.
Notice how when Ana is embarrassed about sex stuff, she flushes or blushes, but if Kate is embarrassed, she turns puce, a red-brown color named after, I shit you not, flea droppings. Because Ana can be the only pretty girl in the room.
Zax is the most exclusive nightclub in Aspen- or so says Mia.
It’s so exclusive, even the Aspen Chamber of Commerce has no clue it exists. You know, I’ve never worried that something I wrote might influence tourism or send vacationers to a place that doesn’t exist. Because that sounds like crazy talk. Even E.L. James didn’t expect her book to become such a success, because no one honestly does. This strikes me as just insanely funny; people are so slavishly devoted to these shitty books that they’re trying to track down the most exclusive fictional nightclub in Aspen… if it’s so exclusive, how do they think they’re getting in?
I glance at my watch- eleven thirty in the evening, and I’m feeling fuzzy. The two glasses of champagne and several glasses of Pouilly-Fume during our meal are starting to have an effect, and I’m grateful Christian has his arm around me.
I get that Ana is a big league alcoholic now, but I’m highly doubting that at an increased altitude she’s “fuzzy” and not black-out unconscious after all of that.
“Mr. Grey, welcome back,” says a very attractive, leggy blonde in black satin hot pants, matching sleeveless shirt, and a little red bow tie. She smiles broadly, revealing perfect all-American teeth between scarlet lips that match her bow tie.
I like how “all-American” is totally a positive thing in this book, while “European” is used as an insult. It doesn’t give insight into how an American character thinks, so much as it gives insight into how a non-American author thinks an American character should think.
A young man dressed entirely in black, fortunately not satin, smiles as he offers to take my coat. His dark eyes are warm and inviting. I am the only one wearing a coat- Christian insisted I take Mia’s trench coat to cover my behind- so Max has to deal only with me.
See, he let her make her own choice with regards to the dress. She just has to wear a fucking trench coat all night, in August.
“Nice coat,” he says, gazing at me intently.
He’s not flirting, Ana, he’s wondering why you’re wearing a coat in August when it’s clearly so warm that no one else is doing so.
Beside me, Christian bristles and fixes Max with a back-off-now glare. He reddens and quickly hands Christian my coat check ticket.
You can tell the author is really skilled if the only way she can show the romantic connection between two characters is by having them be constantly jealous of people they will never, ever see again and will never have to interact with in day-to-day life.
Ana once again refers to a woman as what she’s wearing:
Miss Satin Hot Pants flutters her eyelashes at my husband, flicks her long blonde hair, and sashays through the entryway. I tighten my grip around Christian, and he gazes down at me questioningly for a moment, then smirks as we follow Miss Satin Hot Pants into the bar.
What, is this woman going to literally rip him from your arms? “I touched him last, he’s mine now!” Jesus. And when will these two idiots get that people who are waiters and waitresses at bars, nightclubs, restaurants, etc. are usually flirting for a bigger tip? It’s not because they have a genuine interest in their customers. Flirting just loosens up some wallets and you have to make that money somehow.
They go into the nightclub, which Ana describes but I really don’t give a shit. The only thing that bothered me was:
The floor and walls vibrate with the music pulsing from the dance floor behind the bar, and lights are whirling and flashing on and off. In my heady state, I idly think it’s an epileptic’s nightmare.
I’m just super offended by that, and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I have seizures, myself, and I get annoyed with other people who don’t decide what will/will not cause seizures. Usually, because it’s all the same jokes about flashing lights or Japanese tv. But I could be oversensitive because of all the other stuff I hate in these books.
They go to a booth, where I can give you some writing advice:
Kate and Elliot sit back on the soft velvet seating, hand in hand. They look so happy, their features soft and radiant in the glow from the tea lights flickering in crystal holders on the low table.
Word repetition is a bear for every single writer. In fact, if you ever meet a writer who says they don’t have an issue with accidental word repetition, throw holy water on them because they’re a gremlin in disguise. Every writer struggles with this. Here’s how you get rid of word rep like the one I emphasized above. See the first usage? Name a time when velvet has been, I don’t know, sharp or hard as iron. Right. So, if Kate and Elliot just sit back on the velvet seating, we know already that velvet is soft. The first use is unnecessary.
Kate shows Ana her ring, and Christian says he’s picking up the tab for the entire table, despite everyone’s objections. And Ana thinks:
I gaze at him lovingly. My Fifty Shades… always in control.
The obsessive need to control other people isn’t a lovable quality. I’m going to guess that his brother has caught on to Christian’s habit of using his money to control other people, and that’s why he doesn’t want Christian to buy the drinks.
But whatever.
Ana has issues with the waitress, too:
“Thank you, sir. Coming right up.” Miss Hot Pants Number Two gives him a gracious smile, but he’s spared the fluttering of eyelashes, though her cheeks redden a little.
I’m sure Christian is super relieved to not have a beautiful waitress flirt with him. Because he’s so not-at-all-shallow and totally doesn’t get off on other people having a good opinion of him to the point that he’s buried his actual personality beneath glass-and-steel office buildings and apartments and lavish excess in public. I also feel compelled to point out that once again, the woman who “flushes” or “blushes” over a hundred times in the first book alone is critical of another woman doing the same thing when meeting a famous person in real life.
I shake my head in resignation. He’s mine, girlfriend.
Okay, enough. Just fucking enough with this whole jealousy bullshit. It’s stupid and appeals only to jealous people who base their entire self-worth on whether or not someone else wants what they have. To the rest of us, who have realistic amounts of self-esteem and shit? It just looks petty and immature.
Then, there is a whole fucking chunk of page devoted to Ana once again pointing out to Christian that women find him attractive, and Christian once again pretending that he’s never noticed, and then both of them deciding that neither of them have anything to be jealous about. THEN WHY DID YOU JUST WASTE MY TIME?
Christian gives Ana water to drink:
“Here,” Christian hands me a glass of water. “Drink this.”
I frown at him and see, rather than hear, his sigh.
He doesn’t say, “I don’t want our obvious and overly telegraphed baby to be born with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome,” though.
“Three glasses of white wine at dinner and two of champagne, after a strawberry daiquiri and two glasses of Frascati at lunchtime. Drink. Now, Ana.”
I call bullshit. TRIUMPHANTLY, I CALL BULLSHIT. Here’s the thing about Colorado: if you’re not from there, it tries to murder you the second you get there. I’ve been to Colorado ONE TIME. It was for a sales conference for Harlequin. Now, I drank a lot at the time. Like, “lie on the form you fill out at the doctor’s office when it asks how much you regularly drink” kind of a lot. I had ONE drink in Colorado Springs, a rum and coke, a drink that I regularly had four or five of a night, and it laid me OUT. Like, staggering, can’t talk kind of laid out. Because I didn’t know about altitude. I also got altitude sickness and was almost strangled to death by my own lymph nodes. I do not buy that Ana could drink that much after being in Aspen for a day and not be in the fucking hospital.
Taking the glass of water, I down it in a most unladylike manner to register my protest at being told what to do…again. I wipe my hand across the back of my mouth.
Give that last sentence a minute. You’re right, Ana, it is pretty “unladylike” to jam your whole hand into your mouth in public.
The women hit the dance floor, where Ana realizes, hey, she actually really likes dancing:
Why did I spend the first twenty years of my life not doing this? I chose reading over dancing. Jane Austen didn’t have great music to move to and Thomas Hardy… jeez, he’d have felt guilty as sin that he wasn’t dancing with his first wife. I giggle at the thought.
Ana, if you’d ever read any novels by Jane Austen, you would know that Austen herself didn’t have a bad opinion of dancing. In fact, dancing was a pastime that women of her class would have endeavored to be good at, because music and dance were such an important part of culture. And yes, Jane Austen had plenty of “great music” in her time; she lived during what is known as the classical period, a time in music when composers like, you know, Mozart and Haydn and Beethoven and Bach and Gluck were writing music. Sure, their works pale in comparison to Britney Spears’s “Toxic,” but I guess what I’m trying to say is, shut the fuck up, Ana. You aren’t as smart as you think you are.
Oh, also? In Pride and Prejudice Austen wrote: “To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love.” So, no, she was not of the opinion that one could either dance or read. If Ana were any character in any Austen book, I’d say she was Mary Bennet.
It’s Christian. He has given me this confidence in my body and how I can move it.
Well, I’m glad your knight in shining armor rode up to rescue you from such a dull life of reading.
This theme of “Christian knows my body better than me” drives me absolutely bonkers. Maybe if you didn’t buy into the patriarchal myth of virtue and virginity being tied to a woman’s worth, you’d be more confident about your body. Now, I get it, we’re all a product of the culture we’re raised in, but Ana is supposed to be this brilliant genius, and she hasn’t figured out she has bodily autonomy yet? Hell, I can’t reliably follow the plot of The Following, for Christ’s sake, and even I know that my accomplishments aren’t all creditable to my husband and his influence over me.
Suddenly, there are two hands on my hips. I grin. Christian has joined me. I wiggle, and his hands move to my behind and squeeze, then back to my hips.
I open my eyes. And Mia is gaping at me in horror. Shit… Am I that bad? I reach down to hold Christian’s hands. They’re hairy. Fuck! They’re not his. I whirl around and towering over me is a blond giant with more teeth than is natural and a leering smile to showcase them.
Ana screams and slaps him, then reinforces the rape culture that got her ass groped in the first place:
I thrust my uninjured hand in front of his face, spreading my fingers to show him my rings.
“I’m married, you asshole!”
Yeah, you show him, Ana. He can’t just sexually assault you! You’re not some kind of whore who’s free for the taking! Someone OWNS you!
The fact that someone probably uses that specific scene to defend Ana as a strong female character makes me want to pry out my teeth with a rusty carving fork.
So, Christian sees the whole thing and comes over and punches the guy, and of course the guy backs right off because Christian is so scary and fierce and manly and intimidating, and Ana is afraid that he’ll literally kill the guy because he’s so angry. Because that’s LOVE, you guys. Your husband being willing to commit murder with his hands on your behalf is ROMANTIC. I guess I just don’t understand the appeal of a violent man, but whatever.
I rub my palm, trying to dispel the sting, and bring my hands down to his chest. My hand is throbbing. I have never slapped anyone before. What possessed me? Touching me wasn’t the worst crime against humanity. Was it?
No, but I feel like if someone puts their hands on me in a way I don’t want them to, they should be prepared for me to put my hands on them in a way they might not like, either. Men decry this as a double standard, “If we’re not allowed to hit women, why are women allowed to hit men?” Well, the simple answer there is, “Some men don’t understand any other language, and you have to do what you have to do as a woman to prevent yourself from being fucking assaulted.”
Ana, has a different take:
Yet deep down I know why I hit him. It’s because I instinctively knew how Christian would react to seeing some stranger pawing me. I knew he’d lose his precious self-control. And the thought that some stupid nobody could derail my husband, my love, well, it makes me mad. Really mad.
So, ladies, remember: it’s not okay to hit someone to stop them groping your ass cheeks in public, but it’s totally justifiable if you’re doing it so your explosively violent husband can save face and not be bested by “some stupid nobody.”
For some reason, they haven’t been thrown out of the bar for fighting, so Ana asks Christian to dance with her:
“Dance with me.” He’s still mad. “Dance. Christian, please.” I take his hands. Christian glares after the guy, but I start to move against him, weaving myself around him.
Pronoun confusion, Ana. You’re moving against the guy, weaving yourself around him.
Oh… Christian can move, really move.
No shit? Because we haven’t read that in EVERY SINGLE GODDAMNED SEX SCENE IN THIS SERIES SO FAR.
He makes me graceful, that’s his skill. He makes me sexy, because that’s what he is. He makes me feel loved, because in spite of his fifty shades, he has a wealth of love to give.
Usually, I’d be like, “No, the good parts of your personality don’t come from other people, they come from you and I’d wish you’d see that,” but there are no good parts of Ana’s personality to defend. She’s just… there. Sucking up space and being awful, like the human embodiment of a tax audit.
They go back to the table, and I assume someone somewhere in the editing process gave E.L. the note, “Hey, they would have gotten kicked out of a club for fighting like that,” because Ana thinks:
I’m vaguely surprised we haven’t been thrown out.
Because that’s how lazy authors handle their edits, folks. “Gosh, this unexplainable thing happened. Huh. How weird. Moving along.”
They get ready to leave, and at the coat check Kate and Ana discuss what happened on the dance floor:
“He’s rather hot-headed, isn’t he?” Kate adds dryly, staring at Christian as he collects my coat.
I snort and smile. “You could say that.”
“I think you handle him well.”
That’s not praise. No one should have to “handle” their spouse because their temper is so explosive they might get into legal trouble for beating on someone. The only “handling” that situation requires is the insistance that the violent person seek treatment and make substantial changes.
Ana falls asleep in the car, and Christian wakes her up when they get home. Then he takes her inside and takes her shoes off for her, because she’s a sleepy toddler who just got to Grandma’s house:
“I had delightful visions of these around my ears,” he murmurs, staring down wistfully at my shoes.
I have delightful visions of them around your ears, too, Christian. With the heels jammed into your ear canals, spearing through your worthless brain.
Hey, speaking of violent impulses, Jenny. Jesus.
Christian takes Ana upstairs, where he removes her makeup for her, because as we have already established, she’s a fucking child who can’t care for herself.
“Ah. There’s the woman I married,” he says after a few wipes.
“You don’t like makeup?”
“I like it well enough, but I prefer what’s beneath it.”
I hate that guys feel like they can tell women whether or not to wear makeup. Hey, newsflash? We’re not wearing it to impress you. Okay, some of us are. But lots of us wear it because it’s fun. Or it makes us feel good to wear it. Why do so many men think women want to hear that they look better without makeup, that it’s some kind of compliment to criticize our appearance or give us permission to not use makeup? That’s gross, guys. It’s gross.
“Let me help you out of what little there is of this dress. It really should come with a health warning.” He turns me around and undoes the single button at the neck.
“You were so mad,” I murmur.
“Yes. I was.”
“At me?”
“No. Not at you.” He kisses my shoulder. “For once.”
I smile. Not mad at me. This is progress.
It’s progress that her husband doesn’t hold her responsible for the bad actions of another person. Yes, truly, I see what everyone was saying about Christian getting SOOOOO MUUUUUUCH BEEEETTTTEEEEERRRR in the third book. What was I thinking? Clearly, this is a bastion of feminism and empowerment for women.
But even though Ana wants to have sex with Christian, he won’t. Because she’s drunk (that’s never stopped him before, in fact, he used to get her drunk to get her to consent), because she’s tired (even though she’s insisting she’s not), because of the altitude (didn’t bother him in the bathroom earlier). She’s being punished, regardless of the “progress” he’s made. He won’t sleep with her, because she wore slutty makeup and a slutty dress and some other man touched her. Even though he doesn’t tell her this, it’s pretty fucking transparent; he’s ready to ravish her at a moment’s notice, until she expresses confidence in her sexuality and her body. Instead, he’s going to go work, while on vacation, because that’s something he can control.
“Close your eyes. When I come back to bed, I’ll expect you to be asleep.” It’s a threat, a command… it’s Christian.
Swoon, ladies. Swooooooon.
I grin widely, the word progress running around my brain as I drift.
And if you couldn’t tell from the fact that she’s falling asleep, the chapter is over.
There are fads and shit we don’t understand. We sit in the haunted gazebo and talk about all the fads and trends we don’t understand.
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