Everything Cook does in this episode, everything he sabotages, is about preserving his family. It’s the kind of thing that makes absolutely no sense, and every kind of perfect sense, especially if you’ve ever been abandoned. Control and power.
At dinner, Freddie’s dad insists that he come home tomorrow for Karen’s interview for the SexxBomb finale. He says he washes Freddie’s clothes and cooks Freddie’s dinner and accepts Freddie’s drug abuse, and so the least Freddie can do is rip open his heart for a camera and talk about how he misses his mum, and how the only thing she ever wanted was to see her only daughter act like a prostitute in front of a live studio audience.
Which, Mr. McLair: a) Freddie’s clothes never look clean. b) That soup on the table looks like Dickensian gruel. And c) While tolerating your kid’s drug habit isn’t as ridiculous as filming yourself making monkey with your next door neighbor, it’s not going to win you any Parent of the Year awards.
Freddie’s response is to … get stoned some more. But only after he breaks my heart by apologizing and caressing a photo of his mum.
At Roundview, Josie and the Skins Cats are discussing Hamlet. Or, well, Emily is gazing at Naomi, and Josie is explaining via her hand-puppet, Gerald, that: "Through the fog of his grief, Hamlet is struggling to choose between action and inaction. And through this struggle, he encounters existential forces illuminating the path to death, which is, in itself, life."
That’s valid. And everyone’s faces are kind of priceless.
Katie’s like, "Is she for real? Also, it seems like red plaid would clash with my hair, but this shirt looks awesome on me."
And Panda, looking adorable, is trying to decide decide if Voldemort of Claudius would win in a fisticuffs.
And Naomi and Emily are, you know, just being Naomily.