Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Monday, March 31st, 2008



THIS IS THE LONGEST DAY EVER!



“Okay, a little inappropriate, maybe a little bit.” Inappropriately awesome, EJ, although I do not know what is your fascination with pre-2000 cruise ship captain outfits. And Sami, he’s been waltzing into your apartment any time he wants for nearly two years now.



“I want you to lie through your teeth.”

*singing*

One of these EJs had actual dialogue writers, one of these EJs didn’t have to tell jokes wrong…



“Come on, it's not like I can just go and run rings around the U.S. Government.” Exactly. You better call Evil EJ for that.



I think you two could twist this around and blackmail Immigration Dude here for inappropriate meetings and expense reporting. I’m pretty sure he’s not supposed to do this, but hey, it saves the show from building another set, doesn’t it?



“Bread?” I don’t see any bread on the table, EJ. Does Chez Rouge work like The Olive Garden where you have to ask for the breadsticks? And I liked how you said you were doing this for the children.



“We are trying to keep the passion in our relationship. Our sex life is quite stimulating” and “Most of it's either spent looking after the kids or it's just incessant lovemaking.” Gray EJ, you sweetie *hugs*



Ah, yes, Ejami being purposely awful to each other. I wish it could have been written a little smarter, but there you go. At least there wasn’t any overused pop culture reference this time.



Now that is what I am talking about. Of course EJ keeps going.



“He's a little bit tougher than we thought.” HOW COULD WE POSSIBLY HAVE FORSEEN THIS TURN OF EVENTS?! IMMIGRATION HAS SUCH A GOOD REPUTATION, AND THIS GUY WAS SO NICE THE LAST TIME WE MET HIM!!

“Don't worry. I have an idea.” Well, at least someone does.

Grade: Split decision: B+ apartment dinking around, A- for Chez Rouge. Are we where we want to be in terms of dialogue or character intelligence? No, no, we are not. But at least we’re moving in the right direction, which is better than nothing, I suppose.

You Can Blame The One Before

A few nights later, Sami awakens to empty space beside her. Getting out of bed, she knows right where to look for her missing husband. As she enters the darkened kitchen, she sees EJ sitting at the table, dully staring off into space and rocking himself in his chair. Unnerved at the sight, Sami silently moves toward him and clears her throat before she speaks in order not to startle him.

Sami (kindly): “I see you couldn’t sleep.”

Wanting to be alone, EJ tilts his head and glares at her.

Sami (sitting down at the table next to him): “It’s okay. I’m here for you.”

EJ (sarcastically): “I can only imagine why.”

Sami (smiling): “Then get to it. I’m listening.”

EJ (snidely): “So you can hear about my wonderful DiMera childhood, and through telling you I come to some grand emotional epiphany and weep in your arms?”

Sami (annoyed): “Well, I was hoping we’d slowly work our way up to that point, but I’m serious, EJ.”

EJ (irritated): “So am I. Why you want to hear about my father raising me? What does it matter now?”

Sami (insistent): “Me? It’s obviously bothering you. You’re the one getting up in the middle of the night.”

EJ (shrugging): “Only because I never should have agreed to discuss it with you. But let’s say we go with your little theory, and I’m somehow troubled by what I’ve told you. Why? Why would my feelings come to the forefront now?”

Sami (considering): “Maybe with Stefano incapacitated it’s a safe time for your mind to think about it. For you to process it.”

EJ (dryly): “Pop psychology doesn’t suit you, darling. Leave that to your mother.”

Sami (imploring): “You’re my husband. We’re in this together. I want to help you. Just talk to me.”

EJ (challenging): “What do you want me to say? That he hit me? That he locked me in a suitcase? That he pumped me so full of drugs I couldn’t speak?”

Noticing the detail given in the last option, Sami clasps her hands around his and edges her body closer as she looks into his eyes.

Sami (openly): “Did he?”

The question asked, EJ stares back at her with an intensity that genuinely frightens her.

EJ (whispering): “Just go.”

Sami (imploring): “EJ.”

EJ roughly removes her hands from his and closes his eyes.

EJ (pleading): “Please leave.”

Sami opens her mouth to protest and almost immediately shuts it again. Ever so reluctantly deciding that pressing any harder could be dangerous, she stands up and exits the room, looking back at her husband and hanging on to the hope that he will share his memories with her when he is ready. After his wife has left, EJ slumps onto the table and puts his head in his hands.

EJ (to himself): “I am a good boy. I am a good boy. I am a good boy.”