Sorry it's been so long since my last installment. I find myself unaccountably working fulltime in a warehouse, which has severely curtailed my free time and louche lifestyle. I am now stuck in a Neighbours timewarp, having a fortnight's worth of Neighbours queuing for my attention. I can either spend the entirety of a couple of weekends working my way through the backlog or I can just delete them all and try and pick up from there. Neighbours plotlines inch forward so very, very slowly that I probably wouldn't even notice the missed episodes. You'll have to wait and see what I decide to do. In the meantime, try not to reveal any spoilers to me. Not because I'm worried you'll ruin it for me (I don't think that's possible) but because I don't want to live through it twice. It's bad enough having knowledge of Neighbours past and Neighbours present, without having to deal with the knowledge of Neighbours yet to come.
Maybe I could just wait for Wimbledon in order to catch up. I don't really know what I'd do for those two weeks without Neighbours otherwise. I'd just tune into BBC1 at about 5.35 and recap twenty five minutes of the tennis, I suppose. "Match point. Federer performs a thunderously good serve and Murray just about manages to get his racket to it. I'm surprised it didn't just leave a smoking hole in it. He plays the ball across the court and ... I turn the television off. That's it. It's six o'clock. See you tomorrow."
By the way, the answer to the last cryptic clue was "clubbing".
In recompense for my tardiness in posting I have produced a whole slew of SO GOOD IMAGES for your enjoyment. Inspired by the Hogarth Exhibition, I have collated them into a narrative. I call it 'The Shamrock's Progress'. Some of the scenes are of a distressing and a brutal nature.
1. Connor decides to leave Erinsborough and his old life behind him and go on a tour of Australia. Notice how he has turned his back on the symbols of his past and faces instead a wall-mounted map of Australia. A pint of Irish stout stands abandoned on the table beneath a picture of the recently dead Serena. His 'Shamrock' wrestling outfit lies discarded on the floor.
Maybe I could just wait for Wimbledon in order to catch up. I don't really know what I'd do for those two weeks without Neighbours otherwise. I'd just tune into BBC1 at about 5.35 and recap twenty five minutes of the tennis, I suppose. "Match point. Federer performs a thunderously good serve and Murray just about manages to get his racket to it. I'm surprised it didn't just leave a smoking hole in it. He plays the ball across the court and ... I turn the television off. That's it. It's six o'clock. See you tomorrow."
By the way, the answer to the last cryptic clue was "clubbing".
In recompense for my tardiness in posting I have produced a whole slew of SO GOOD IMAGES for your enjoyment. Inspired by the Hogarth Exhibition, I have collated them into a narrative. I call it 'The Shamrock's Progress'. Some of the scenes are of a distressing and a brutal nature.
1. Connor decides to leave Erinsborough and his old life behind him and go on a tour of Australia. Notice how he has turned his back on the symbols of his past and faces instead a wall-mounted map of Australia. A pint of Irish stout stands abandoned on the table beneath a picture of the recently dead Serena. His 'Shamrock' wrestling outfit lies discarded on the floor.
2. Connor bumps into Robert Robinson (aka the Evil Twin) and mistakes him for Cameron Robinson (aka the Good Twin). He lets slip that he knows where the real Cameron Robinson is located. Robert tricks him into going back into the house.
3. Robert locks Connor in the cellar.
3. Robert locks Connor in the cellar.
4. Robert viciously attacks Connor with something or other. I don't really know what that weapon is. Looks kind of mediaeval. Also he's standing on a box for some reason.
5. Robert mails Connor's wallet to an acquaintance in Beijing, with instructions to hand it in at a police station. In this way, he hopes to throw the law off the scent.
5. Robert mails Connor's wallet to an acquaintance in Beijing, with instructions to hand it in at a police station. In this way, he hopes to throw the law off the scent.
6. Robert plants an Irish rose, burying a garden gnome beneath it. Inside the gnome is a macabre joke he's written down. "How do you make a one-armed Irishman fall out of a tree?" it reads.
7. Connor's mutilated body hangs undiscovered from a tree somewhere in the Australian Outback. A lone Kookaburra sits upon a branch and laughs.
8. The Neighbours writers forget about Connor completely and, consequently, so do the other characters in the show. The storyline is unresolved. The producers have obviously heard the theory that an infinite number of monkeys at an infinite number of typewriters will eventually produce the complete works of Shakespeare. Unfortunately, they have only got four monkeys at four typewriters which explains the quality of the dialogue.
Neighbours 07/02/2007
The previouslys show us Lou's flashback to Mishka pushing him down the stairs; Katya telling Guy that she won't stand for his blackmail anymore and Guy abducting Bree and Rachel.
The episode's title is "One for the Toad" which is odd since Toadie wasn't in the Previouslys.
Ext. General Store. Katya's phone rings. Actually, it doesn't. That was just the way her phone tells her that she has a text message. Obviously, she doesn't get many text messages otherwise she'd change the message tone to a simple beep. She has a new message from Guy. It's a picture message showing Guy and Rachel and Bree in his car. "Your sis has a lovely smile," reads the captions. Katya looks harried. She phones Guy. Bree and Rachel are pretending to drive the car and are making a lot of noise. The writers obviously think that they are eight years old, and not fourteen. Guy holds the phone up to them, and Katya hears their shrieking. "What's going on?" she demands. "Let them go!" Guy just smiles.
Hoyland domicile. Toadie, Steph. Steph brings Toadie some coffee. He is, however, a "white and two kind of guy." I guess she brought him a black coffee. She apologises profusely and tells Toadie that she is in "La La land." Could be worse. She could be in Dipsyland. Or Tinkywinkyland. Or Poland. Toadie asks if it's the thought of Max which has brought her to this state. It is. Steph is "so mad at him and then [she] remember[s] that [she] loves him." Toadie suggests that "maybe Lyn's right - while Max is away, sorting things out, life does go on." What's this heresy, Toadie? Lyn Scully is never, never, never right. I thought you were on my side. If she is right, then it's usually something so obvious that it doesn't need saying. In this instance "life goes on" is such a hackneyed cliche that it no longer serves any sagacious purpose. You don't even need to think before you say it. It's an easy, lazy piece of advice, offered only to give the appearance of consideration and caring. Basically, it means "stop complaining and leave me alone." "How's Boyd?" asks Toadie. "He's intense," says Steph, "like his father." "At least he has Janae to keep him grounded," Toadie reassures her. Steph seizes the opportunity to change the subject - "Janae has quit her job as a mechanic and got a job with Sexy Rexy." Toadie is incredulous: "She's going to work for Rex Cole?" "Uh hu," Steph affirms. "Mr Midlife Crisis? Mr Come-down-and-check-out-my-overpriced-thirdhand-Italian-sports-cars?" "That's the guy," says Steph. "He'll have her out washing cars in a bikini." Steph produces tickets to the Spring Racing Cocktail Party and presents them to Toadie. He asks her to come with him. She refuses. He warns her not to make him use his giant legal brain against her. Like he did that time when he failed to prevent her getting a conviction for a murder she didn't commit. He threatens to hold his breath until she agrees to go with him. That's the sort of thing he does in court as well. "I'm going to hold my breath, your honour, until you change your verdict." Marvel at Toadie's sophistry and his legal prowess.
Harold's House. Mishka, Harold, Lou. "Tonight at ball, I be Cinderella and you be King Charming," says Harold. All right. You've got me. It was Mishka. The syntax was a dead giveaway, wasn't it? Harold is in a bad mood. "It's a party [as opposed to a ball - he's being pernickity over semantics] and it's PRINCE Charming." "King is better," Mishka points out, quite correctly. "Prince is boy. Not man like my Lou Bear." Lou is sitting at the kitchen table reading a magazine about clippings. Mishka lays hands on him and he jumps at her touch. Mishka says that a skinny man is like a stick, but that Lou is strong like an oak. Whatever. She leaves. Harold noticed Lou's violent reaction to Mishka's touch. He confronts Lou. Lou tells him that he's remembering Mishka pushing him down the stairs. He avers that a "repressed memory is better ... Karl and his damn hypnosis!" "You can't spend the rest of your life jumping every time Mishka comes near," Harold tells him. "Mind you, everyone else does." Cheeky Harold! He bustles out. "Perhaps I'll give [Karl] a call," says Lou. Er. Everyone's gone, Lou. You're talking to yourself.
General Store. Harold, Elle. Elle wants to know if Harold is coming to the party. "It really is a singles thing," frets Harold, "and Loris is away." "Oh Harold, please," says Elle as if she were talking to a particularly obtuse three-year-old, "young women like me need older men like you." Harold doesn't understand. "Well," she explains patiently, "we need the older men to show the younger men how to dance properly. And not to act like complete morons." Shut up you patronising know-it-all. Give her a slap Harold.
Harold???
He's chuckling away to himself. Improbably, he's seen the logic of Elle's flagrant sales pitch and is flattered by it. Perhaps he can feel the distinct undertow of sex in it: "Young women like me need older men" she pouted. "Ah yes!" laughs Harold, "I see. Point taken." Enter Boyd carrying plates. Elle looks uncomfortable and leaves. Enter Lyn. The plates belong to whoever's been leaving food on Boyd's doorstep. "Ah, that would be Elle," Lyn tells Boyd. "They're Paul's plates. She obviously wanted to help. Pretty sweet really - considering she never cooks for us at home." That's it Lyn - have a good bitch about it. Actually, Elle did cook for Izzy once. And drugged her. Harold chimes in that Elle has been down at the City Mission showing pictures of Max around. Lyn "underestimated her". So did Boyd. He looks puzzled.
Scarlet Bar. Katya and Guy. They're STILL transacting illegal business in a busy bar. Where all of Katya's neighbours hang out. Imbeciles. Guy wants $100,000 by the end of the week. He threatens Rachel. Katya wants to know how she can trust him and he admits that she can't, but has no choice. I don't understand blackmailers like him. Surely they must realise that their escalating greed and threats create a mindset of desperation and fear in their victims. He's pushing and pushing to find Katya's breaking point. In other words, he's asking to be murdered. He's like a virulent bacteria that exhausts its host to the point of death and thereby consigns itself to destruction. Or like the human race upon the Earth, consuming and consuming until their planet can no longer sustain them. He should be more reasonable in his demands, and show himself to be more trustworthy. I sense this storyline is due to come to a sticky end any day now.
Harold's House. Karl, Harold. Karl is feeling sorry for himself. "Mistakes occur, you know," he says plaintively, "you make the best possible decisions based on appropriate techniques and ... informing the patient ..." he tails off. All of that is perfectly true. Medical science can be terribly fickle and unjust. However, my problem with his treatment of Sky lies with all of the moralising he did, dressing up his own personal, Victorian sensibilities as medical opinion, confusing the boundaries between doctor and concerned friend in the process. His horror at Sky's ethical decisions (or lack thereof) is made doubly noisome by the stench of hypocrisy that surrounds it. He himself cheated on Susan and, recently, had sex without contraception, evidenced by the fact that Izzy is pregnant with his baby. He didn't even have a right to judge Sky as a fellow human being, let alone as a patient. It's largely irrelevant, then, that he did all of the procedures correctly. The real issue is his attitude: He was well outside the parameters of the doctor-patient relationship when he advised Sky on how to handle her personal life and therein lies the rub. "The baby could be Dylan's," recaps Harold helpfully. Karl joins in the recapping. They don't want us to forget about Neighbours big storyline-du-jour. "DNA Testing will prove it one way or the other. But, either way, I don't think the Timminses will ever speak to me again." And he's worried about that, why? He's evidently forgotten that Janae accused him of child molestation, ruining his reputation and threatening him with criminal prosecution. Janelle waded in against him on that occasion too. Much as I'm loth to admit it, the Timminses owe Karl one here. Harold is sure that it will be crystal clear that the "error was not to do with [Karl's] commitment or professionalism."
Enter Lou and Mishka. "Hello, Dr Karl," says Mishka. Karl tells Lou that he will perform some "light hypnosis" on Lou. "No brainwash," insists Mishka. She's thinking of the rigours of Soviet Russia again. "No acting like chicken." Now she's thinking about hypnotist sideshows at the fair. Karl sits Lou down and he falls immediately into an hypnotic state. Harold and Mishka remain on hand as spectators. Karl tells Lou to think of positive experiences he's had with Mishka. He remembers a time when he bought her a koala bear. "It smelled like cough mixture!" says Mishka happily. Karl looks annoyed at the interruption. Can Lou think of any other positive experiences? "Warney!" says Mishka delightedly. She did love it when Shane Warne visited Erinsborough. She was more enthusiastic about seeing him than anyone else in the cast. The hypnotised Lou tells Karl so: "She found the fact that she was going to meet Shane Warne incredibly exciting. That morning we went back to bed and had the most incredible ..." Harold coughs. "Was better than Test century!" opines Mishka. Unless Mishka has actually scored a Test century, she is not in a position to make that comparison. Interestingly enough, Shane Warne himself never scored a Test century in his entire twenty-five year Test career. He came frustratingly close a number of times though. So, even if he had witnessed Lou and Mishka's sexual feats (which is not impossible, since he was in Erinsborough on the morning in question) he wouldn't be able to compare the sensations he saw them experiencing with that of scoring a Test century. He did take 708 wickets before retiring at the end of the Ashes this year, so if Mishka had said "it was better than taking your 700th wicket" he'd have been able to venture an opinion one way or the other. Or if she'd said "having sex with Lou was better than delivering the ball of the century," then Shane Warne would probably say: "I doubt that very much." In my opinion, scoring a Test century must feel pretty damn good and I find it hard to imagine that Lou and Mishka's half-hour of fumbling in bed could compare. Maybe I'm underestimating Lou's skill in the sack.
Lou continues: They had "breakfast in bed with whipped cream." Karl hurriedly wakes him up. He tells him that the hypnosis was very successful, but looks deeply disturbed. What's to be disturbed about? Breakfast in bed with whipped cream doesn't sound so bad. Oh wait. Maybe Mishka took the whipped cream and smeared it on ... *shudders*. Karl goes into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Harold wants one too. A strong one. Will tea make the mental pictures disappear? It's certainly worth a try. I think I'll make myself one as well.
Hoyland dwelling. Steph is trying on an outfit. I guess Toadie suffocated and she's going to the party that he so desperately wanted her to attend in order to honour his memory. Oh dear: Lyn's here too. "You look spectacular!" she coos. She didn't say "Stephie!" in that infuriating way of hers, so I guess I should be thankful for small mercies. "I chose it with Max," Steph tells her. "It's beautiful. You're beautiful," says Lyn. She hasn't done anything to provoke my ire yet. Must be the calm before the storm. "I'm so glad that Toadie talked you into going tonight," says Lyn. A shame he had to do it at the expense of his own life. He will be sorely missed. Steph isn't so sure that her going is a good thing. "Max could be suffering somewhere!" she worries. "Max will be back one day," Lyn tells her daughter, "and how will he find his girl? Is she coping with life or has she had a nervous breakdown?" Hmm. On the whole I agree with the sentiment. I don't like the way Lyn called Steph Max's "girl", though - I think that makes her sound more helpless and less autonomous than she is. Nor do I like the Manichean way that Lyn delineates "coping with life" and having "had a nervous breakdown". It's not binary - one doesn't have to be in one state or the other. I think she should have emphasised the fact that Max walked out on Steph leaving her, quite literally, holding their baby. The guilt is his to deal with and not Steph's. She should allow herself to feel happy and to go out and have a good time. "You have a choice, Stephie," Lyn goes on. "You can wallow and make yourself and Charlie suffer. Or you can get on with your life." Way to ladle on the pressure, Lyn. "You shall go to the ball." Hmm... Another Cinderella reference. I don't think this party's going to be all it's cracked up to be. It'll probably end up being yet another crappy shindig in the Scarlet Bar. Lyn continues with her Fairy Godmother shtick: "You shall have a glass or two of champagne and you shall dance and be happy!" The tinkly music of profundity-cum-schmaltz plays in the background. Steph jokes that she won't dance to any of that crappy eighties disco music. Lyn is appalled. "What about Boney M?" she screeches. My head is flooded with horrific visions of Lyn Scully bopping along to the strains of "Ra, ra Rasputin, lover of the Russian Queen!"
Actually, the song is historically inaccurate. There is no evidence to suggest that Rasputin had an affair with Alexandra. The reason for his entrance into the Queen's inner circle (sadly, I'm not above tired innuendos) is his success in treating the royal couple's haemophiliac son. The legend of Alexandra's infidelity all sounds suspiciously like a Soviet smear against the Tsarist regime. The revolutionaries printed and scrawled upon the walls all kinds of slurs against her, citing imaginary perversities to emphasise the decadence and the depravity of the regime they sought to overthrow. The same thing happened to historical Tsars: the story that everyone knows about the unusual sexual proclivities of Catherine the Great, and the nature of her death probably originated at around the same time. Disappointingly, Catherine collapsed and died alone in her boudoir - just in case you bought the equine propaganda. Anyhow, Boney M are playing right into Lenin's hands by perpetuating the myth of the affair between Tsarina and Mad Monk. Having conjured the image of her horrible, naff disco-dancing Lyn leaves with the bizarre exit line of: "Earrings I think."
Harold's House. Karl and Harold, seated. Mishka and Lou caddling. "I will never feel clean again," says a shellshocked looking Karl. "Quite," agrees Harold. Heh. Mishka tells us that she and Lou are off to make "experiment in bedroom." She thanks Karl for his hypnotic prowess. Lou and Mishka disappear. " 'What are some of the things you've done that have made Mishka happy ...' " says Karl, parrotting his line from the earlier hypnosis scene. "Big mistake." Harold agrees wholeheartedly. "I will never be able to use whipped cream again," he says. "I wonder if I can give myself a repressed memory," wonders Karl. Yes you can, Karl. Just drink some more of that magic sleeping potion that made you think that Izzy was Susan. We hear Lou's obscene cackling coming from off-screen.
Scarlet Bar. Ned and Katya. Katya tells Ned that she can't go to the party. She says that she's switched shifts at the hospital, but really she wants to steal some more cars. It's a shame, says Ned, because it's going to be a slap-up black tie event. And there will be all sorts of big, expensive cars in the carpark. Is looking at cars he can't afford Ned's idea of fun? What a weird thing for someone to say. It's enough to persuade Katya Kinski the Kleptomaniac to go to the party. Cut to Elle and the PI she hired to find Max. He tells her that the trail has gone cold. Boyd overhears them. "Why would you [hire a private eye] Elle?" he asks suspiciously.
General Store. Bree, Rachel and Katya. Katya doesn't want the two of them getting into cars with strangers. Bree calls her a "Fascist" behind her back. She's right to do so. There's a chapter in Mein Kampf which is devoted entirely to prohibiting people from riding in cars belonging to people unknown to them or, to use Hitler's memorable phrase, "verbotenvolkswagens". In order to avoid the temptation of "Automobile Più sconosciuto" Mussolini ensured that the trains ran on time and Franco issued an edict in 1938 banning Spaniards from "El conseguir en los coches con los extranjeros". It is, then, a central tenet of Fascist ideology. Karl comes in for the sole purpose of mentioning the fact that he has bought a new car. No prizes for guessing what's inevitably going to happen to it. He's also still wheedling on and on about how he didn't make a mistake with regard to Sky's baby.
Scarlet Bar. Boyd and Elle. Boyd is suspicious as to why Elle has been so secretive about the hiring of the PI. "My Dad killed your brother," he says needlessly. Then he goes on to say something or other about charity and guilt. I'm not really paying attention - I think I just saw a bumblebee out of the window. In February. This global warming business is really starting to hit home.
Party. The much trumpeted party (today's Macguffin) has arrived. It looks predictably awful. The only thing to differentiate it from your run-of-the-mill night at the Scarlet Bar is the fact that everyone is wearing black tie. The good news is that Toadie's here. Which means that he didn't die of oxygen privation in that earlier scene. We're reminded once again that Karl has a new car. Then we discover that Ned's suit is too small for him. Ah! It's a clever, clever prank orchestrated by Toadie, who boasts to Steph about his aptitude for playing practical jokes. Boyd is giving Elle the evil eye, which is either interesting or exceedingly tiresome depending on your point of view. Katya leaves the room and Bree announces that she has come to the party to "prove the dead can dance". She seems to think that she is a vampire now. Boyd and Elle are still giving each other dirty looks. Boyd wonders aloud if Elle's "help" was prompted by "care" or by the fact that she feels guilty. He's worked out that she was the one who sent Max crazy. Ned is ringing up to complain about his suit, but instead ends up speaking to Toadie on his mobile phone. Toadie does a poor Indian accent in order to disguise his voice and tells Ned to read the serial number off the inside of his trousers. Thus, he tricks Ned into "downing trou" for everyone to see. He turns the spotlight onto Ned. What a clever prank! Toadie is a comic genius! I wish I was more like him. "You're a dead man Rebecchi!" Ned yells.
Carpark. Evil Katya is stealing a car, which I can only assume belongs to Karl. She chuckles evilly. Ned appears and seeks to prevent her from committing grand theft auto. Evil Katya knocks him down and drives away, leaving him for dead. Toadie runs over to his comatose friend, pulls his trousers down and runs away giggling. Not really. It wouldn't be out of character though.
Maison d'Hoyland. Toadie is congratulating himself on his prank. He and Steph have a tender moment. She's just so grateful that he persuaded her to go and have a good time. Toadie promises he won't go away again. They kiss. And - oh no! - Boyd sees them. Kissing someone in Neighbours is tantamount to absolute betrayal and infidelity. Remember when Sky kissed Lana? No one would shut up about it for weeks. I think 'kissing' must be coy Neighbours shorthand for full on sexual congress. Boyd is another intransigent moralist, cut with the same celestial cookie cutter as Lyn Scully. This is likely to be an outlet for his highminded priggishness to rival that time when he ruined Max and Steph's chances to adopt.
Credits.
Neighbours 07/02/2007
The previouslys show us Lou's flashback to Mishka pushing him down the stairs; Katya telling Guy that she won't stand for his blackmail anymore and Guy abducting Bree and Rachel.
The episode's title is "One for the Toad" which is odd since Toadie wasn't in the Previouslys.
Ext. General Store. Katya's phone rings. Actually, it doesn't. That was just the way her phone tells her that she has a text message. Obviously, she doesn't get many text messages otherwise she'd change the message tone to a simple beep. She has a new message from Guy. It's a picture message showing Guy and Rachel and Bree in his car. "Your sis has a lovely smile," reads the captions. Katya looks harried. She phones Guy. Bree and Rachel are pretending to drive the car and are making a lot of noise. The writers obviously think that they are eight years old, and not fourteen. Guy holds the phone up to them, and Katya hears their shrieking. "What's going on?" she demands. "Let them go!" Guy just smiles.
Hoyland domicile. Toadie, Steph. Steph brings Toadie some coffee. He is, however, a "white and two kind of guy." I guess she brought him a black coffee. She apologises profusely and tells Toadie that she is in "La La land." Could be worse. She could be in Dipsyland. Or Tinkywinkyland. Or Poland. Toadie asks if it's the thought of Max which has brought her to this state. It is. Steph is "so mad at him and then [she] remember[s] that [she] loves him." Toadie suggests that "maybe Lyn's right - while Max is away, sorting things out, life does go on." What's this heresy, Toadie? Lyn Scully is never, never, never right. I thought you were on my side. If she is right, then it's usually something so obvious that it doesn't need saying. In this instance "life goes on" is such a hackneyed cliche that it no longer serves any sagacious purpose. You don't even need to think before you say it. It's an easy, lazy piece of advice, offered only to give the appearance of consideration and caring. Basically, it means "stop complaining and leave me alone." "How's Boyd?" asks Toadie. "He's intense," says Steph, "like his father." "At least he has Janae to keep him grounded," Toadie reassures her. Steph seizes the opportunity to change the subject - "Janae has quit her job as a mechanic and got a job with Sexy Rexy." Toadie is incredulous: "She's going to work for Rex Cole?" "Uh hu," Steph affirms. "Mr Midlife Crisis? Mr Come-down-and-check-out-my-overpriced-thirdhand-Italian-sports-cars?" "That's the guy," says Steph. "He'll have her out washing cars in a bikini." Steph produces tickets to the Spring Racing Cocktail Party and presents them to Toadie. He asks her to come with him. She refuses. He warns her not to make him use his giant legal brain against her. Like he did that time when he failed to prevent her getting a conviction for a murder she didn't commit. He threatens to hold his breath until she agrees to go with him. That's the sort of thing he does in court as well. "I'm going to hold my breath, your honour, until you change your verdict." Marvel at Toadie's sophistry and his legal prowess.
Harold's House. Mishka, Harold, Lou. "Tonight at ball, I be Cinderella and you be King Charming," says Harold. All right. You've got me. It was Mishka. The syntax was a dead giveaway, wasn't it? Harold is in a bad mood. "It's a party [as opposed to a ball - he's being pernickity over semantics] and it's PRINCE Charming." "King is better," Mishka points out, quite correctly. "Prince is boy. Not man like my Lou Bear." Lou is sitting at the kitchen table reading a magazine about clippings. Mishka lays hands on him and he jumps at her touch. Mishka says that a skinny man is like a stick, but that Lou is strong like an oak. Whatever. She leaves. Harold noticed Lou's violent reaction to Mishka's touch. He confronts Lou. Lou tells him that he's remembering Mishka pushing him down the stairs. He avers that a "repressed memory is better ... Karl and his damn hypnosis!" "You can't spend the rest of your life jumping every time Mishka comes near," Harold tells him. "Mind you, everyone else does." Cheeky Harold! He bustles out. "Perhaps I'll give [Karl] a call," says Lou. Er. Everyone's gone, Lou. You're talking to yourself.
General Store. Harold, Elle. Elle wants to know if Harold is coming to the party. "It really is a singles thing," frets Harold, "and Loris is away." "Oh Harold, please," says Elle as if she were talking to a particularly obtuse three-year-old, "young women like me need older men like you." Harold doesn't understand. "Well," she explains patiently, "we need the older men to show the younger men how to dance properly. And not to act like complete morons." Shut up you patronising know-it-all. Give her a slap Harold.
Harold???
He's chuckling away to himself. Improbably, he's seen the logic of Elle's flagrant sales pitch and is flattered by it. Perhaps he can feel the distinct undertow of sex in it: "Young women like me need older men" she pouted. "Ah yes!" laughs Harold, "I see. Point taken." Enter Boyd carrying plates. Elle looks uncomfortable and leaves. Enter Lyn. The plates belong to whoever's been leaving food on Boyd's doorstep. "Ah, that would be Elle," Lyn tells Boyd. "They're Paul's plates. She obviously wanted to help. Pretty sweet really - considering she never cooks for us at home." That's it Lyn - have a good bitch about it. Actually, Elle did cook for Izzy once. And drugged her. Harold chimes in that Elle has been down at the City Mission showing pictures of Max around. Lyn "underestimated her". So did Boyd. He looks puzzled.
Scarlet Bar. Katya and Guy. They're STILL transacting illegal business in a busy bar. Where all of Katya's neighbours hang out. Imbeciles. Guy wants $100,000 by the end of the week. He threatens Rachel. Katya wants to know how she can trust him and he admits that she can't, but has no choice. I don't understand blackmailers like him. Surely they must realise that their escalating greed and threats create a mindset of desperation and fear in their victims. He's pushing and pushing to find Katya's breaking point. In other words, he's asking to be murdered. He's like a virulent bacteria that exhausts its host to the point of death and thereby consigns itself to destruction. Or like the human race upon the Earth, consuming and consuming until their planet can no longer sustain them. He should be more reasonable in his demands, and show himself to be more trustworthy. I sense this storyline is due to come to a sticky end any day now.
Harold's House. Karl, Harold. Karl is feeling sorry for himself. "Mistakes occur, you know," he says plaintively, "you make the best possible decisions based on appropriate techniques and ... informing the patient ..." he tails off. All of that is perfectly true. Medical science can be terribly fickle and unjust. However, my problem with his treatment of Sky lies with all of the moralising he did, dressing up his own personal, Victorian sensibilities as medical opinion, confusing the boundaries between doctor and concerned friend in the process. His horror at Sky's ethical decisions (or lack thereof) is made doubly noisome by the stench of hypocrisy that surrounds it. He himself cheated on Susan and, recently, had sex without contraception, evidenced by the fact that Izzy is pregnant with his baby. He didn't even have a right to judge Sky as a fellow human being, let alone as a patient. It's largely irrelevant, then, that he did all of the procedures correctly. The real issue is his attitude: He was well outside the parameters of the doctor-patient relationship when he advised Sky on how to handle her personal life and therein lies the rub. "The baby could be Dylan's," recaps Harold helpfully. Karl joins in the recapping. They don't want us to forget about Neighbours big storyline-du-jour. "DNA Testing will prove it one way or the other. But, either way, I don't think the Timminses will ever speak to me again." And he's worried about that, why? He's evidently forgotten that Janae accused him of child molestation, ruining his reputation and threatening him with criminal prosecution. Janelle waded in against him on that occasion too. Much as I'm loth to admit it, the Timminses owe Karl one here. Harold is sure that it will be crystal clear that the "error was not to do with [Karl's] commitment or professionalism."
Enter Lou and Mishka. "Hello, Dr Karl," says Mishka. Karl tells Lou that he will perform some "light hypnosis" on Lou. "No brainwash," insists Mishka. She's thinking of the rigours of Soviet Russia again. "No acting like chicken." Now she's thinking about hypnotist sideshows at the fair. Karl sits Lou down and he falls immediately into an hypnotic state. Harold and Mishka remain on hand as spectators. Karl tells Lou to think of positive experiences he's had with Mishka. He remembers a time when he bought her a koala bear. "It smelled like cough mixture!" says Mishka happily. Karl looks annoyed at the interruption. Can Lou think of any other positive experiences? "Warney!" says Mishka delightedly. She did love it when Shane Warne visited Erinsborough. She was more enthusiastic about seeing him than anyone else in the cast. The hypnotised Lou tells Karl so: "She found the fact that she was going to meet Shane Warne incredibly exciting. That morning we went back to bed and had the most incredible ..." Harold coughs. "Was better than Test century!" opines Mishka. Unless Mishka has actually scored a Test century, she is not in a position to make that comparison. Interestingly enough, Shane Warne himself never scored a Test century in his entire twenty-five year Test career. He came frustratingly close a number of times though. So, even if he had witnessed Lou and Mishka's sexual feats (which is not impossible, since he was in Erinsborough on the morning in question) he wouldn't be able to compare the sensations he saw them experiencing with that of scoring a Test century. He did take 708 wickets before retiring at the end of the Ashes this year, so if Mishka had said "it was better than taking your 700th wicket" he'd have been able to venture an opinion one way or the other. Or if she'd said "having sex with Lou was better than delivering the ball of the century," then Shane Warne would probably say: "I doubt that very much." In my opinion, scoring a Test century must feel pretty damn good and I find it hard to imagine that Lou and Mishka's half-hour of fumbling in bed could compare. Maybe I'm underestimating Lou's skill in the sack.
Lou continues: They had "breakfast in bed with whipped cream." Karl hurriedly wakes him up. He tells him that the hypnosis was very successful, but looks deeply disturbed. What's to be disturbed about? Breakfast in bed with whipped cream doesn't sound so bad. Oh wait. Maybe Mishka took the whipped cream and smeared it on ... *shudders*. Karl goes into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Harold wants one too. A strong one. Will tea make the mental pictures disappear? It's certainly worth a try. I think I'll make myself one as well.
Hoyland dwelling. Steph is trying on an outfit. I guess Toadie suffocated and she's going to the party that he so desperately wanted her to attend in order to honour his memory. Oh dear: Lyn's here too. "You look spectacular!" she coos. She didn't say "Stephie!" in that infuriating way of hers, so I guess I should be thankful for small mercies. "I chose it with Max," Steph tells her. "It's beautiful. You're beautiful," says Lyn. She hasn't done anything to provoke my ire yet. Must be the calm before the storm. "I'm so glad that Toadie talked you into going tonight," says Lyn. A shame he had to do it at the expense of his own life. He will be sorely missed. Steph isn't so sure that her going is a good thing. "Max could be suffering somewhere!" she worries. "Max will be back one day," Lyn tells her daughter, "and how will he find his girl? Is she coping with life or has she had a nervous breakdown?" Hmm. On the whole I agree with the sentiment. I don't like the way Lyn called Steph Max's "girl", though - I think that makes her sound more helpless and less autonomous than she is. Nor do I like the Manichean way that Lyn delineates "coping with life" and having "had a nervous breakdown". It's not binary - one doesn't have to be in one state or the other. I think she should have emphasised the fact that Max walked out on Steph leaving her, quite literally, holding their baby. The guilt is his to deal with and not Steph's. She should allow herself to feel happy and to go out and have a good time. "You have a choice, Stephie," Lyn goes on. "You can wallow and make yourself and Charlie suffer. Or you can get on with your life." Way to ladle on the pressure, Lyn. "You shall go to the ball." Hmm... Another Cinderella reference. I don't think this party's going to be all it's cracked up to be. It'll probably end up being yet another crappy shindig in the Scarlet Bar. Lyn continues with her Fairy Godmother shtick: "You shall have a glass or two of champagne and you shall dance and be happy!" The tinkly music of profundity-cum-schmaltz plays in the background. Steph jokes that she won't dance to any of that crappy eighties disco music. Lyn is appalled. "What about Boney M?" she screeches. My head is flooded with horrific visions of Lyn Scully bopping along to the strains of "Ra, ra Rasputin, lover of the Russian Queen!"
Actually, the song is historically inaccurate. There is no evidence to suggest that Rasputin had an affair with Alexandra. The reason for his entrance into the Queen's inner circle (sadly, I'm not above tired innuendos) is his success in treating the royal couple's haemophiliac son. The legend of Alexandra's infidelity all sounds suspiciously like a Soviet smear against the Tsarist regime. The revolutionaries printed and scrawled upon the walls all kinds of slurs against her, citing imaginary perversities to emphasise the decadence and the depravity of the regime they sought to overthrow. The same thing happened to historical Tsars: the story that everyone knows about the unusual sexual proclivities of Catherine the Great, and the nature of her death probably originated at around the same time. Disappointingly, Catherine collapsed and died alone in her boudoir - just in case you bought the equine propaganda. Anyhow, Boney M are playing right into Lenin's hands by perpetuating the myth of the affair between Tsarina and Mad Monk. Having conjured the image of her horrible, naff disco-dancing Lyn leaves with the bizarre exit line of: "Earrings I think."
Harold's House. Karl and Harold, seated. Mishka and Lou caddling. "I will never feel clean again," says a shellshocked looking Karl. "Quite," agrees Harold. Heh. Mishka tells us that she and Lou are off to make "experiment in bedroom." She thanks Karl for his hypnotic prowess. Lou and Mishka disappear. " 'What are some of the things you've done that have made Mishka happy ...' " says Karl, parrotting his line from the earlier hypnosis scene. "Big mistake." Harold agrees wholeheartedly. "I will never be able to use whipped cream again," he says. "I wonder if I can give myself a repressed memory," wonders Karl. Yes you can, Karl. Just drink some more of that magic sleeping potion that made you think that Izzy was Susan. We hear Lou's obscene cackling coming from off-screen.
Scarlet Bar. Ned and Katya. Katya tells Ned that she can't go to the party. She says that she's switched shifts at the hospital, but really she wants to steal some more cars. It's a shame, says Ned, because it's going to be a slap-up black tie event. And there will be all sorts of big, expensive cars in the carpark. Is looking at cars he can't afford Ned's idea of fun? What a weird thing for someone to say. It's enough to persuade Katya Kinski the Kleptomaniac to go to the party. Cut to Elle and the PI she hired to find Max. He tells her that the trail has gone cold. Boyd overhears them. "Why would you [hire a private eye] Elle?" he asks suspiciously.
General Store. Bree, Rachel and Katya. Katya doesn't want the two of them getting into cars with strangers. Bree calls her a "Fascist" behind her back. She's right to do so. There's a chapter in Mein Kampf which is devoted entirely to prohibiting people from riding in cars belonging to people unknown to them or, to use Hitler's memorable phrase, "verbotenvolkswagens". In order to avoid the temptation of "Automobile Più sconosciuto" Mussolini ensured that the trains ran on time and Franco issued an edict in 1938 banning Spaniards from "El conseguir en los coches con los extranjeros". It is, then, a central tenet of Fascist ideology. Karl comes in for the sole purpose of mentioning the fact that he has bought a new car. No prizes for guessing what's inevitably going to happen to it. He's also still wheedling on and on about how he didn't make a mistake with regard to Sky's baby.
Scarlet Bar. Boyd and Elle. Boyd is suspicious as to why Elle has been so secretive about the hiring of the PI. "My Dad killed your brother," he says needlessly. Then he goes on to say something or other about charity and guilt. I'm not really paying attention - I think I just saw a bumblebee out of the window. In February. This global warming business is really starting to hit home.
Party. The much trumpeted party (today's Macguffin) has arrived. It looks predictably awful. The only thing to differentiate it from your run-of-the-mill night at the Scarlet Bar is the fact that everyone is wearing black tie. The good news is that Toadie's here. Which means that he didn't die of oxygen privation in that earlier scene. We're reminded once again that Karl has a new car. Then we discover that Ned's suit is too small for him. Ah! It's a clever, clever prank orchestrated by Toadie, who boasts to Steph about his aptitude for playing practical jokes. Boyd is giving Elle the evil eye, which is either interesting or exceedingly tiresome depending on your point of view. Katya leaves the room and Bree announces that she has come to the party to "prove the dead can dance". She seems to think that she is a vampire now. Boyd and Elle are still giving each other dirty looks. Boyd wonders aloud if Elle's "help" was prompted by "care" or by the fact that she feels guilty. He's worked out that she was the one who sent Max crazy. Ned is ringing up to complain about his suit, but instead ends up speaking to Toadie on his mobile phone. Toadie does a poor Indian accent in order to disguise his voice and tells Ned to read the serial number off the inside of his trousers. Thus, he tricks Ned into "downing trou" for everyone to see. He turns the spotlight onto Ned. What a clever prank! Toadie is a comic genius! I wish I was more like him. "You're a dead man Rebecchi!" Ned yells.
Carpark. Evil Katya is stealing a car, which I can only assume belongs to Karl. She chuckles evilly. Ned appears and seeks to prevent her from committing grand theft auto. Evil Katya knocks him down and drives away, leaving him for dead. Toadie runs over to his comatose friend, pulls his trousers down and runs away giggling. Not really. It wouldn't be out of character though.
Maison d'Hoyland. Toadie is congratulating himself on his prank. He and Steph have a tender moment. She's just so grateful that he persuaded her to go and have a good time. Toadie promises he won't go away again. They kiss. And - oh no! - Boyd sees them. Kissing someone in Neighbours is tantamount to absolute betrayal and infidelity. Remember when Sky kissed Lana? No one would shut up about it for weeks. I think 'kissing' must be coy Neighbours shorthand for full on sexual congress. Boyd is another intransigent moralist, cut with the same celestial cookie cutter as Lyn Scully. This is likely to be an outlet for his highminded priggishness to rival that time when he ruined Max and Steph's chances to adopt.
Credits.
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