After this episode I felt the strange and sudden urge to grab a bullhorn and march down the middle of the street screaming, “No Hotpants! No peace!” Who is with me? An episode without Lauren is like Christmas without the presents. Sure, Santa is still technically there with his twinkly eyes and flying reindeer — but without the goodies to unwrap he’s kind of just an old guy who broke into your house. Not that Bo is old and I kind of wouldn’t mind it if she broke into my house. Not at all. Wait, I think I’ve gotten a little lost in my own metaphor. Point being, we want Dr. Lauren Lewis, and we want her now.
AFTERELLEN BAIT (What enticement did the episode use to reel in gay lady viewers?)
Bo and Kenzi’s friendship continues to be one of the best things about this show. Two women who support each other unconditionally, and are even willing to curse those who do the other wrong is a wonderful thing to see each week. And hungover Bo and Kenzi? Adorable. Take two aspirin and do it again tomorrow, ladies.
FEELINGS, FEELINGS, FEELINGS! (Did the episode give you a lot of feelings?)
No one tunes in to see a lovesick succubus eat ice cream (or pickles) and pine for her old wolffriend. This is not the show we signed up for. We came to see a succubus kick ass and get sexy, though possibly in reverse order. I mean, Bo killed Dyson in the last episode. Sure, it was metaphorically and in her dream — but if that isn’t a clear sign your subconscious is ready to move on, I don’t know what is. So let’s get on with it. This isn’t Dawson’s Fae where we process break ups endlessly while listening to old Paula Cole records. This is Lost Girl where we want the sexy and the ass kicking, pronto.
Though, I will admit to feeling a distinctly uncharitable jolt of glee when women started hating on Dyson after Kenzi placed the whammy on him. And the waitress throwing a drink at him for all womankind? Sister, you just got all of lesbiankind to buy you a drink for life.
DOCCUBUS ACTION (Exactly how hot were those Hotpants this week?)
As Kenzi says, “Perhaps we’re concentrating too much on Dyson’s genital regions.” Truer words have never been spoken, my friend. No Lauren in this episode, not even for a second. Yeah, Lost Girl, you are definitely concentrating too much on Dyson’s genital region — and the rest of him, for that matter.
The tiny table scraps of Doccubus we did get were Bo lamenting that she had “probably lost Lauren” and calling the new Ash a bastard for not calling Lauren by her name. And then, at the end, we get a tiny sliver of hope when Kenzi implores Bo to: “Fight for Dyson. Fight for Lauren. Fight for what makes you happy.” So get on with the fighting, Bo. Your doctor awaits.
ACTION ACTION (So what the fae actually happened, and did Bo kick its ass?)
This episode was kind of my worst nightmare. No, not that Bo would spend another entire episode sulking like a heartsick teenager. Though it certainly is becoming a nightmare storyline I hope we will wake up from very soon. No, it was that a scary story from childhood would turn out to be real. A witch who grants curses and eats bad children? That’s like Santa Claus as told by the Crypt Keeper. (Hey, look, my Santa Claus metaphor is relevant again, sort of.) If someone tells me the campfire story about the escaped convict and the hook hand on the car door is real I am never sleeping again.
Also, while I love it when Bo gets all succubus-face with someone, making time with Kenzi’s old fortune teller aunt is not the kind of action I was hoping for this episode.
KENZISM OF THE WEEK (What makes her just the Kenziest Kenzi ever?)
“Chores? Yes, insane Martha Stewart, that is definitely what we should be worrying about.”
BOOBS O’CLOCK O’ THE WEEK (Because you can’t spell “Boobs” without “Bo.”)
An episode without Lauren makes me all “Qu’est-ce que huh?” I certainly hope the writers finally gotten over the big D. In fact, I think they now owe us four episodes of Bo exclusively pining for Dr. Hotpants. It only seems fair. So, did you make it through the Lauren drought? Do you think the writers are finally done with Dyson? If not, I swear I will seriously drop-kick someone into a women’s studies conference.
