“Lost Girl” Recap (4.08): Soylent green is candy

The nasty little candy master breaks up their moment. But he’s just Krampus Jr. The real deal arrives and is sort of like that weird great uncle no one likes to invite to family reunions. A horny old guy in a bad Hawaiian shirt.

He apologizes for his overzealous son and sends Tamsin and Bruce back to their Yuletide fun. But Bo he keeps because her mix of darkness, guilt, denial are enough to make candy from for decades. So he straps her to the gobstopper machine and then becomes an impromptu therapist. What is Bo afraid of?

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Making the wrong choice, losing her friends and family, what she will become, what she is capable of, The Wanderer. Krampus Claus laughs and sends her back. Man, how is he still in business as a candy maker if he keeps helping his raw materials confront their demons?

She lands back in the auto shop with a thump. And then she tells Tamsin how scared she is. But Tam-Tam tells her not to be, because she’s got her. And then, you guessed it, more hugging. If you know a Valkubus shipper, I hope you checked on her after this episode. Don’t want mass fainting spells or worse to have befallen a whole segment of the fandom. Shippers helping shippers, yo.

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So, everything is back to relative normal. Time is marching on. And Bo asks Tamsin if she could be The Wanderer’s daughter. Tam says he would do anything to find his ideal mate, even create her himself. So now I know someone read too much V.C. Andrews because, hello, incest-o-rama.

Kenzi comes out and replaces the gross family relationship with her more adorable mother-daughter dynamic with Tamsin. But neither Tam-Tam, nor Bo, can go back into the party because of some Light/Dark rules. So Bo decides to stay outside with her thoughts and the mysterious box Lauren and Dyson both were too drunk to decide what to do with. Inside? The Lost Smoke Monster in a bottle. Wow, Amazon really does deliver everything.

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KENZISM OF THE WEEK:

Any time you can make fun of Twilight is a good time in my book.

“Enough, Stephenie Meyer!”

BOOBS O’CLOCK OF THE WEEK:

Like there was ever a single damn doubt.

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