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“Lost Girl” Recap (4.09): Nothing to crow about

Should we be surprised that a Death Train is decrepit? Probably not. Should we be surprised Bo is still torn between two lovers? Definitely not. Should we be surprised that a bottle of the black kidnapper smoke that took Bo in the first place is about to be opened in a reckless hail-Mary effort to finally reveal the identity of The Wanderer? Girl, please, have you been watching this show? Reckless is practically its middle name. (p.s. It’s real middle name is “Leather.” Wait, or is that its safe word?)

Dyson and Lauren agree that opening the jar of wormy black smoke is a good idea—because their bromance has entered the mind-meld phase. Trick and Kenzi are less convinced. But they resign themselves to reckless impulses and arm themselves with whatever is handy. Kenz will fork you up, people.

Out goes the lid, up goes the smoke and pop goes the weasely corporeal form. The jar contains a crow named Hugin. He and his brother Munin are servants, and sons, of The Wanderer who have been doing his bidding and took Bo to his train. Sure, on the surface those names sound more like designer diaper brands, but in actuality it’s just those sneaky Lost Girl writers reading up on their Norse mythology.

Yadda yadda yadda, brother trapped him in the bottle, yadda yadda, sleeping with his wife, yadda yadda, help him get revenge, yadda, will take her to The Wanderer. Yadda. Dyson and Lauren are like, let’s saddle up. But Hugin is like, no go. I’m a crow, not an albatross—this ride is only for one. Of course, they protest, because where that hot little honey pot goes so do they. Torn between two bodyguards is somewhat less romantic, but no less well intentioned.

Bo gives them the it’s not you, it’s me who can’t decide who I love more because that would totally kill the love triangle which this show has used shamelessly as a key plot driver for four seasons now. And then, poof, she’s gone.

But, hey, who said dueling romantic foils have to take such willful indecision without a fight? Dyson and Lauren suit up for battle in their own ways—one with fire power and another with syringe power. Sure, he’s got the weapons and the wolf, but Dr. Hotpants has the brains—and vials full of junk-melting Fae STDs.

They vow to go get “our girl,” which—hold up. That’s weird, right? I mean I know they’ve agreed to disagree over who loves Bo the most and who Bo is right for and who has the biggest … heart. But I draw the line at the “our girl-ing” of Bo. Unless this triangle is about to turn into a ménage, I’m all for singular possessive pronouns. Or, no possessive pronouns.

Though, I do enjoy the respect Dyson and Bo have been affording each other these days. Though I like even more how while Dyson sees the gray area around matters of the heart, Lauren is all black and white. This lady has no problems choosing. None whatsoever.

Also having no problems choosing—to be a jerk—is Trick who gets huffy with Kenzi and Tamsin when they come to him for answers. The Trickopedia has been more like Yahoo! Answers of late, filled with half truths and name calling. Trick calls them a lowly human and low-life, respectively, and then storms off telling them to leave it be.

Still they rise above it and decide to snoop around for answers in lieu of taking a dump in his bed for revenge. Girls, girls—plenty of time for both. So they start looking through Tricks stockade of old books and even older books until they find one particularly old—and empty—book. Kenzi recognizes it as the one Trick used to rewrite history with his own blood. So now if only they had some of his blood. We all know this is going to end badly, right?

The puff of black smoke brings Bo and Hugin to a sacred Fae burial ground. There she meets a literal murder of crows, who have all clearly spent way too much time shopping in the “Goth” aisle at Hot Topic. There’s a disingenuous chase where everyone makes sure not to step on the graves lest they get dragged down to hell and meet the Leviathan. And you thought step on a crack, break your mother’s back was bad.

Meanwhile, across town, a grandfather is busy trying to crack into his own memories. Trick goes to see old flame Wai Lin (remember her from Season 2?), but finds her sister Doa Ming instead. Luckily, they both possess the power to compel the truth. Unluckily, Dao Ming hates Trick, and only agrees to help him uncover his blocked memory because he suspects he’s the one who blocked it in the first place.

p.s. You know, while I always appreciate diverse casting, I can do without the whole “Ancient Chinese Secret!” overtones complete with guzheng elevator music. We get it, she’s Asian.

Right, back to the crows. Hugin’s wife arrives on scene with incredible eyebrows and an even more incredible oral sex joke. Let’s see if they let that one air on Syfy at 8 p.m., shall we? But in the end it was all just a ruse. Because these crows share more than eyeliner. They also share the desire to slit Bo’s throat to get back at The Wanderer. Was all the elaborate subterfuge overkill? Of course! But you have to find a way to fill 43 minutes every week somehow, people.

Bo decides she’d rather keep her throat unslit, unlike her blouses. (High five! Don’t leave me hanging!) So she does a backward swan dive into one of the graves to say a howdoyado to the Leviathan. Hey, isn’t the Big L typically a sea creature in mythology? Or perhaps her character is a lesbian and this is all an elaborate fish joke. She does have scaly fish fingers. Ahem.

The Leviathan has been searching for Bo’s chest hand hickey for 600 years and wants it. Bo wants out. So of course they settle it with a game of riddles. What, no one believes in “Rock, Paper, Scissors” anymore?

Back in the Parlor of Orientalism, Trick is spilling the secrets of his wrathful past. He has wiped millions of souls from this Earth. But that’s OK, because he is the First Son of this Earth and should be worshipped. Wow, ego much?

Tamsin and Kenzi continue to look for the great and powerful Trick’s blood. That is only slightly less gross than it sounds. Tamsin finds a loose floorboard and inside there’s a delicious tomato bacon box. OK, fine, it’s an Ancient Japanese Secret box. Tamsin is pretty sure this is the tamatebako of folklore, but they need to know the combination to unfold it and uncover its secrets.

So they decide to do the single most irresponsible and frightening thing they’ve ever done and try to open the box. Oh, sweeties, this is Lost Girl—you have way too much competition for the “most irresponsible and frightening” title.

Back in hell, Bo continues her 501 blues (Get it? Levi’s?) with the Riddler. She guesses the first one right. (Fog.) And comes back with a mind-bender of her own. Hey, look, I get it—we take our relationship advice wherever we can get it. But disguising your unanswerable love question in the form of a life-or-death riddle is kind of cheating, no?

She boils the triangle down to this: Lauren is brilliant and short. Dyson is strong and long. The Leviathan is all, “Come on. Do I look like Dr. Phil? Go see a therapist like everyone else.” First she suggests the man. Because he will live longer. Then she suggests the woman. Because Bo loves her and her humanity. But then she settles on the man. Because strength. But Bo says she’s wrong and Doccubus shippers everywhere have a moment of pure happiness. Of course, then she admits there is no right answer because not choosing between two lovers is totally Bo’s thing.

Yeah, pretty much that’s the face of fandom. I mean, we all knew we’d never know, but still—dude, really?

The Leviathan sends Bo back up, but chuckles that she’ll see her again because someone she loves very much will soon be dead. Of course she doesn’t say who, so now it’s time to stress eat and worry until we find out.

Bo gets sent back up and summarily dispatches of the Crows. Damn handy having all of these graves to push people into. And then with only Hugin, Munin and Mrs. Hugin left to contend with Bo gets some reinforcements in the form of Dyson and Lauren.

They offer to do all kinds of magnificently horrible things to Heckle and Jeckle. But in the end Bo strikes a simple deal with them to get her back on The Wanderers train. Lauren’s like, “You can’t just leave your valiant rescuers like this.” And Dyson is all, “We’re your weird, dysfunctional family you try to avoid talking about religion and politics with during Thanksgiving dinner.”

But Bo says she won’t let them risk their lives for her (um, since when?) And then blows a kiss for her “lover.” Lauren looks over and says, “You know that kiss was for me, right?” Keep that up, lady, and we’ll have to rename you Dr. Cockypants. OK, so I just read that out loud to myself and that did not come out right. OR DID IT?

Trick is still getting severe nosebleeds from the truth. Doa Ming asks what the worst thing he’s ever done was and gets maniacal laughter in return. Mean Trick is back and he’s talking about power and erasing people from history. Like he erased Rainer from history. You see, the reason he hasn’t been helping is because he is the reason all of this is happening. Whoopsie.

So, fine, he’s not going to win a Grandpa of the Year award anytime soon. But it was still fun to see layers of emotions that wash over Richard Howland’s face in the span of less than 30 seconds.

Kenzi and Tamsin are unfolding multiple layers themselves with the tomato-bacon box. And after some horns and sirens and spikes, they finally get to its center. Inside they find vials of blood. So, naturally, it’s time to draw pictures of dicks into Trick’s book. Or, you know, something slightly more mature. What they settle on is a big blood blob. Well, if a toilet can be art, why not this?

Still nothing happens after Kenzi’s expert finger painting. So Tamsin grabs the book and happens to smudge the blood. And then the book latches on to her. Or more like she can’t unlatch from the book. I know sometimes people say a book is so good they can’t put it down, but this is ridiculous.

All of a sudden Tam-Tam’s name appears in blood, and her eyes go black and the scene goes sepia tone. Flashback! It’s the Blood King and Tamsin, back in time. She’s trying to take a soul from the field of battle and he is telling her to leave him so it will be damned to wander for eternity. In exchange he’ll give her another chance at her life to wipe the slate clean and fix her mistakes.

The body in question, of course, is Rainer. He defied the Blood King and took arms against his will, which really ticked Trick off. So he erased him from history. Yeah, so, note to self: Tip well at the Dal, or else.

On a rickety Death Train, Bo finally finds Mr. Fix It welding the walls. Bo demands to know if he’s The Wanderer. He takes off the welding mask to reveal a total hottie. He’s like a well-groomed extra from Game of Thrones. Bo goes after him anyway, but he hand hickeys her instead. In fact they hand hickey each other. Is this some sort of mutual succubus glowy handjob thing? Yes, I meant it just like that.

Tamsin wakes up from her mini-coma to scream, “Don’t trust Trick!” At the same time he runs into the bar and tells Lauren and Dyson they have to arm up and get Bo back from his mortal enemy. Of course, just then Bo herself walks in. And she’s, well, giddy. She found out it was her idea to be Dark so she’d go back on the train willingly and free Rainer from his curse. Cool story, but what?

See, he’s not her enemy. And he’s not her father. He’s her destiny. Her hold hands and moon over each other destiny.

Good thing Lauren, Dyson and Trick are already in a bar. Because, man, do they ever need a stiff drink.

Right, so I did not see the dream boyfriend thing coming. I don’t know what shape to call whatever the tangled love connection that is happening right now. But I do know Bo and Rainer’s shipper name is absolutely perfect. BoNer. Yep, about right.

KENZISM OF THE WEEK:

Tell me more of this magical box.

“Like make a wish magical box or just like have a late period magical box?”

BOOBS O’CLOCK OF THE WEEK:

Bo always knows the perfect height to unzip her jackets.

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