“Yes? Carpe? Slow down, darling, you’re even more incoherent than usual. No, I haven’t watched the show yet, I had to take Evil Crazy EJ and Samantha to Best Buy to pre-order the new album by that insipid band you three like. Yes. Yes, I am going to insult Metallica in front of you, and I-wait, what? Again? Damn. No, no, don’t apologize, I understand. I’ll take care of it. This requires a firm hand. You’re welcome. I’ll talk to you again soon. Goodbye.”
So I hear due to the “writing,” and I use the word extremely loosely, my unfortunate better half is currently infecting the show with his insidious goodness and unwavering stupidity. Let’s survey the damage, shall we?
I see that in order to better camouflage himself, my archnemesis has attempted to imitate my dress and facial hair. But it’s not going to work, Good EJ. The vacant look in your eyes gives you away, not to mention the weak body language.
“The reality of the situation is that you and Lucas are no longer together. The judge took everything under consideration, and he decided to award joint custody. You don't have a choice but to comply with the court's decision.” Yes, because we care so much about laws, don’t we, Pansy EJ? Upright citizen fulfilling the bare minimum that is expected of us in order to maintain the thin veneer of an excuse we call civilization, eh?
“I understand the concept of sharing custody, okay? That is not what I am fighting about. Just...the idea of packing her up and carting her off. It's just not right. I have a terrible feeling about this.” Ah, yes, let’s borrow dialogue from Star Wars because George Lucas is known for his wonderful cadence, isn’t he?
“Look, Samantha, I understand this is difficult for you, but it's not like you lost complete custody of Ali. I think the judge's decision was fair.” You would, you pathetic maggot.
“Well, I don't. I have a really bad feeling about this. I have a bad feeling about her being taken away from me, even for a weekend.” As well you should, Samantha.
“Okay, but you need to understand-this is out of your hands.” Only because you have feet of clay.
“No, it's not. I'm not being unrealistic here. I am being cautious, and I don't understand why people can't see that.” They are weak, unwilling to protect what’s theirs.
“Well, frankly, I don't think that anybody quite understands where you're coming from.” I do, and I’m more than certain the audience does. Try to keep up, old chap.
“It's about doing what's best for her. And I don't think taking her away from everything that is familiar to her is what's best, especially the way it's happening-pulling her away from all this stuff so harshly. I just think she won't understand.” An entirely logical and valid concern.
“I think she's more like her mother than you think.” She’s wonderful.
“Well, that's not exactly comforting. I mean, look what happened to me in my childhood, with my fathers coming and going with no reasonable explanation. My mom was taken from me and then miraculously brought back. All of that completely messed me up. I wasn't exactly a poster teen for mental health.” If you had been, you wouldn’t be the woman we love, sweetheart.
“Samantha, if you don't want to upset her, just do your part. She'll take a cue from you, you know? It's about time you start trying to make things better instead of making them worse.” Indecent cretin. That is your job as the head of the household. We protect our woman and our offspring.
“What is that supposed to mean? What exactly could I have done to make things better?” How about kneeing Little Miss Sunshine here in the groin?
“Well, to start off with, you could have stayed married to me.” Oh, the pantywaist thinks he can go there, does he?
“What I mean is, I think things would have turned out differently if you and I were still married.” The demo wouldn’t have dropped to 1.2 again, that’s for certain.
“How would being married to you have helped my case?” Him? Not all. Me? In every way conceivable.
“Besides, I don't need you or Lucas. I can take care of and provide for my children all by myself.” It’s a nice sentiment, my dear, but a very unrealistic one.
“How? Samantha, you don't have any viable income. You don't have a permanent residence.” Don’t forget the horribly spotty job history.
“Not to mention the fact that Lucas is an ex-con, for God's sake. I'm sure the judge really considered that little gem.” If I were in charge, the judge would have only had to consider which ocean he would have his private island surrounded by.
“The judge would have to consider that little gem, but he would also have to consider things like the difficulties that you had with Will.” Let’s not think about young William more than we have to, shall we?
“You need to be realistic. This is about the most natural thing in the world.” Nature is for us to rise above, Pansy EJ.
“What is?” Exactly, darling.
“Two parents who don't live together coming together to raise their child. I don't know why you can't understand that.” She understands just fine. She just doesn’t agree, you patronizing git.
“Look, I don't care what you say. I'm not giving her up. I won't do it.” As well you shouldn’t, Samantha.
“Samantha, Lucas is her father.” Yes, let’s acknowledge the “rightful” place of the worthless loser who nearly murdered us and left Ali to wander outside by herself.
“Samantha, I couldn't love Ali any more if she were my own, you know? That's why I went to such great lengths to try and keep our family together.” And by “I” you mean me, Strawberry Shortcake.
“Oh, that's right. By lying about the annulment and getting a court order so that I can't leave this nuthouse with my son.” Our home is not a mental institution, sweetheart.
“Samantha, I did those things to help you.” Of course we did!
“To help me? Have you lost your mind? You think it was helping me to keep me held hostage here? I still can't take my son out of this house. Do you realize how twisted that is?” But in such a wonderful way. Johnny, you, us. One happy evil family.
“Samantha, my motivation has always been you, doing what I can to protect those that I love.” Yes, we did what was necessary.
“That is not love, EJ. That is control. You think I'm a control freak? You are the worst.” Ah, but my dear, love is control. I would think you would know that by now.
“Ali's a baby. I'm her mother. No judge in the world is gonna take her away from me.” Not if I had anything to say about it, anyway.
“The second thing is that after you file, you need to be a perfect model citizen, which means not plotting and scheming. Don't give me that innocent look.” Why don’t you ask our beloved not to breathe too, cupcake?
“What do you expect me to do-just wait around for the courts to decide what's best? It could take months for them to sort out this mess.” All the more reason to take matters into your own hands, sweetheart.
“All right. After you file, you need to understand that every move that you make- everything that you do-is going to be subject to the scrutiny of the courts. I know how you are...and I'm telling you-I'm not gonna have you pulling any of these stunts around Johnny.” Oh yes, heaven forbid our son get a head start on learning the manipulative skills he needs.
“No. I'm telling you you need to remain focused and you need to act responsibly. And if you don't...you're gonna force me to choose Johnny over you.” Idle threats from someone as timid as you are, Pansy EJ, not that you should ever say that to our Samantha anyway. We do not compromise on our family. Ever.
If only my father were to have inappropriately have shown up here. That would have clarified things rather quickly. Alas. Off at the links again, I suppose.
“The judge called. You knew this was coming, Samantha. Lucas' official time with Ali starts now. You have to let her go.” No one makes our Samantha do anything but us. Situations like these are why firearms were invented.
You do know that instead of attempting to comfort Samantha and then leaving her to her own devices which will inevitably fail, you could take matters into your own hands and fix this entire situation. But that would be wrong, and we can’t do anything even slightly bad now, can we? You inflexible worm.
Here we are at the end of today's show, and after such a sickening travesty of supposed "justice," even I need a drink. In summary, my beloved Samantha is currently performing her best impersonation of a thirteen year old girl, and we are an impotent brain dead automaton. Lovely. Thank you, Good EJ, and thank you, Dena, for such a stunning display of storytelling ineptitude. Keep it up, my dear, and you won’t have a show to ruin.
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