Season 3 Ep. 7, Almost Famous
Anytime you get Cassl and Bekt in a strip club, you just know it’s going to be a good day.
Season 3 Episode 7, Almost FamousOpening spiel. Important things to take from it: Rick Cassl writes stuff. He is adorbs. He has Teh Hots for Kate Bekt.
We open with night in Manhattan – shocker – and kind of badass music, actually. Cool. Apartment building. Noisy. Young uniformed cop walking slowly down the hallway. Knocks on a door. Says he’s got an arrest warrant. It gets quiet. Creepy. Actually, now that I look, he’s got kind of that old-school, tipped-hat, Bing Crosby look about him. Huh.
But I digress. Young Cop gets yanked inside and the door shuts behind him.
And now let us away, ‘ere break of day, to find…Casslhaus. Martha is leading sweet Princess Lex in shout-y vocal warmups with, like, yoga or something. Sigh. How nice. By the way, the shouting with H’s in front of vowels is meant to engage the diaphragm, thus strengthening the voice without straining the delicate vocal folds. If you were curious. In shuffles a sleep-tousled Cassl, who is not happy because it’s 5 AM and he left a very frisky Bekt lying naked in his bed to come out here and see WTF is going on. On the bright side, I really, really want to run my hands through his hair right now. He sighs. “I had a dream. I was floating on a lilypad, and the Swedish bikini team was reciting positive reviews of Naked Heat.” He grins kind of creepily, but it’s him and he’s adorable, so I’ll let it pass.
His dream got shattered when Lex was foolish enough to tell Queen Martha that she’s auditioning for Grease at school, so now Broadway Martha has decided to go batshit crazy and make the girl get up at 5. To yell neutral vowels. Siiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.
[On the other hand, when I failed to practice piano in high school, my mom sometimes dragged me out of bed the next morning at 5 to practice till 6. But that was my fault, so I can’t really gripe too much about it.]
Casslphone rings as he gets a hug from Sleepy Princess. “Cassl.” Pause; my guess is Bekt says something dirty. “No! No, no, don’t be silly. Of course I was up.”
‘I was up…’ Um…yeah, I think that could be dirty.
Obviously, my doves, THERE HATH BEEN A MURDER.
We zip to the crime scene to find everyone very hurryish and brisk, and can I just say Bekt’s outfit is amazing? I mean, the coat. Yes. But the shirt! Our girl is rocking an asymmetrical neckline right now. Because she can. She gets ALL THE AWARDS.
Lanie joins them, and everyone’s on edge because it’s an officer down. Young Cop. Shot in the chest. Bekt takes a closer look. Really young guy. Old-fashioned badge, though. Fake gun. Filled with tequila. Cassl tastes. “Cheap tequila.” He takes a few experimental squirts, and right on cue, our girl shoots him a glare and takes away the toy. And then whacks him on the nose with a newspaper. Well…she would if she had one.
A hundred points to Hufflepuff: Lanie’s the one who figures out his pants are breakaway. He’s a stripper.
This show loves me. It fucking loves me.
Bekt digs through Stripper’s pocket, and Cassl shields his eyes from the horrid sight of Bekt with her hands inside another man’s pants. Bekt finds his car keys, presses unlock, and sure enough, there’s a chirp. More importantly, though, there is eyefucking. I do not lie. As the car chirps, Bekt and Cassl simultaneously look towards it, and then share a sexy little morning eyefuck of Mmmm, A Clue before they go to check it out.
Aaaaaand car. Cassl pouts just a little. “Of all the cases in the city – and it’s a big city – you catch male stripper.” “Yeah, well, luck of the draw, I guess.” Yep. Jealous Puppy.
Jealous ADD Puppy darts to the car. “Shotgun.”
BektLook of I Am Pretending Not To Be Amused By You, But Everyone Knows It’s Fake Because Last Night We Did Naughty Things Up Against My Kitchen Counter. “Cassl, you’re the only one here.”
He has the good grace to look awkward. “Yes.”
AND to show you how much she loves him, she just shakes her head with this little smile of Fuck All, I Love My Big Sexy Manchild. So they hop into the car – naturally, Bekt takes the driver’s side – and to my great sorrow, they do not immediately commence steaming up the windows and I do not know why. The car’s pretty messy, but they find Stripper’s ID and an address scribbled on the back of a bank receipt. Address. Let’s go there.
So they do. Bekt – in sexy black gloves, which I cite as evidence that she gets naughty with Cassl on a regular basis – knocks on the apartment door we saw Stripper at, and it’s answered by a bleary-eyed, really hungover Asian girl with a pink sleep mask who blinks owlishly. “Still sleeping. Go away.” List that under things Cassl has never said when Bekt slips into his bed at midnight.
She tries to shut the door, but Bekt badges her way in, Cassl tagging along, and they find the remains of what looks like a wild bachelorette party (UK folk, that’s what we Americans call ‘hen parties’). Feather boas, crime scene tape, slutty women draped unconscious on furniture, one of them snuggled with a sex doll…yikes.
Cassl takes it all in. “Wow! Wow – wow.” Huh. Puppy, being a man, hasn’t seen a bachelorette party, it seems. Though my guess is he has seen some wild shit in his day. “That – eh – whoa.” Bekt pulls aside a streamer, and gapes in the same direction he does. Puppy tilts his head. “They makes cakes in that shape?”
HA. Yes, Puppy. There are phallic baked goods. Just accept it.
One of the Sleepy Sluts jerks awake, accidentally spraying the can of silly string she’s holding. And she’s clearly either hungover or still drunk. She looks up at Cassl. “Another stripper?” (To be fair, the man is looking utterly delicious.)
Slut #2 drops the sex doll and tries to stand. “Take it off! Whooo! Take it off, take it – owww – ”
She staggers back down to the couch, her liver begging for mercy, and Cassl raises his hands to placate them. “Ladies, I am not a stripper. Though I can understand how you’d make that mistake.”
Bekt does the Lip Press Of Displeasure Due To Sluts Trying To Feel Up Puppy:
But she gets down to business. “NYPD. The ones with the real guns.” She asks all the Sleepy Sluts about ‘Officer McNaughty,’ and oh fuck me, you cannot be serious.
Back at the 12th with all the Hungover H0rs, the Bros are stuck watching Leopard Print urp into a trash can while Asian and Bride-to-be talk to Bekt. Cassl has the gall to bring them coffee. But not Bekt. Dangerous move, CasslPuppy. And Bekt has even swapped the Red Coat Of Sex for a military jacket that I LOVE and ADORE. Asian got the stripper, because “Jamie’s always had a thing for cops.” Cassl lights up. “It might interest you to know – I’m an assistant volunteer homicide detective myself.”
The brde-to-be giggles, and Cassl looks pleased with himself until he discovers that Bekt has fixed him with a Glare Of STOP Flirting Or I Will Not Let You Peel This Jacket Off Me. Ever.
Hungover Asian says she just hired Stripper from a website. They didn’t know him. He just came over, spiced up the party, and left. Happily, there are lots of pictures. Back at Ryan’s desk, Asian and our Sexy Cops and Cassl all look through them. Yep. It was a wild night. They scroll through, and my sweet Irish starts to get the Urp look on his face, yet oddly, I still find it adorable. And I can’t help but notice that al these drunk whores keep making fish-lips at the camera. Why do women do that? It doesn’t make our cheekbones look better. It just looks dumb. Sigh. Notice how our girl Bekt never has to make a fish-lips pout, yet Cassl still gets naked at her slightest suggestion. So there. QED, my naughty little doves.
Bekt notices a bridesmaid in the photos who wasn’t at the apartment this morning. In the photo, Bridesmaid looks like she’s arguing with Stripper. Hmm...
I’d spend time on this, but it’s a red herring. Bridesmaid was Stripper’s ex, and they had a rocky past, but she didn’t do it, so let’s just skip ahead. If you are yelling WHAT, Soxie, I Need Plot! – then I do not know how you stumbled onto this page in the first place.
Outside Interrogation, Papagomery, Bekt and Cassl pow-wow with the Bros. Stripper was also a struggling actor. Who really, really sucked. Did a commercial, an ep of America’s Most Wanted, etc. He seriously sucks. Makes David Caruso look subtle and nuanced. And I do not use such harsh criticism lightly.
Bekt sends the Bros to his stripper agency to see if he had any regular gigs, problems, etc.
She and Cassl trot over to Lanie’s World Of Dead Folk, where Cassl peers into Stripper’s face carefully. “He’s not that handsome. You want my opinion, three hundred bucks an hour – a little steep.” Keep that in mind, Bekt. Cassl’s clothes you can take off for free.
Lanie, though… “As the person in this room that’s seen everything under the sheet? Bargain.” Oh. Yowza.
Bekt’s eyes actually make a brief detour towards StripperGroin, but the point is somewhat moot since he’s dead anyway, and besides, she’s got Cassl’s naked body as her personal wonderland, so she goes for Plot instead. BORING.
Stripper’s hair was recently dyed grey with temporary hair dye. And she found a long blonde hair on Stripper’s clothing…hmm…Bekt thinks maybe it’s from one of the Sluts…
But Lanie’s all Nope. “Came back positive for testosterone and anabolic steroids.” Oh. Oh my. “Your blondie is a man.”
OPENING CREDITS OF LOVE AND SEXY.
Sky shot of Sexytime Manhattan. Enter Les Bros to the Office Of Naked Men, where the manager is on the phone. He sees Two Sexy Bros walk in and assume they’re here to audition. He dismisses poor Espo – “I’m already up to my ears in A-Rods – ” but eyes Sweet Innocent Irish – “I got women requesting that skinny Twilight dude like crazy.” THAT IS NOT COOL. But then Manager tosses Irish a shiny red thong, and oh, just fuck my life, this is really happening. “They’re one size fits all. We can pad if need be. Bathroom’s down the hall if you’re shy.” RAWR.
Espo does the badgeflash; Manager apologizes, and Ryan drops the thong. “I can assure you, this would fit.” “That’s what they all say.” HA.
Ryan wipes his hands on his coat while they pursue Plot. Manager says Stripper also danced at a cub called The Package Store, which just makes me so very happy. Maybe that’s where Long Blonde Hair is.
Uncomfortable!Irish thanks Manager for his time and the Bros are about to leave, so Manager makes one last try. “Hey, if you change your mind – I’ll provide fangs and some hair gel.” Poor Sweet Irish. He gapes for a few seconds and finally just decides Oh, Fuck All, Let’s Just Get Out Of Here.
Back at the station, the Bros show Bekt the website for The Package Store, which I really just can’t handle. They still don’t see anyone with long blonde hair, so Bekt decides some serious detective-ing is required: “Well, there’s one surefire way to find out.” Have Sex With Cassl what? Oh, sorry, my bad. Just assumed. But Bekt does stand up and call for her naughty little Puppy. “Oh Cassl…”
Oh. Maybe it is Have Sex With Cassl this time! I figure if I keep saying it often enough, it’l happen.
AND THEN WE GO TO THE PACKAGE STORE. I THANK YOU GOD FOR MOST THIS AMAZING DAY.
A whining Cassl follows his ladylove into the club, and I am sorry, but what she’s wearing right now? Black lace. Sexy black lace. She’s wearing a fucking nightgown. I.e., a nightgown for fucking. Basically it looks like she dragged Cassl into a lingerie store and said OK, Pick Out A Negligée For Me And I’ll Let You Rip It Off Me Later. But then she draped a cardigan over it to keep him from just outright grabbing her boobs in front of everyone. Still. How am I supposed to interpret that outfit as anything other than pure sexy?
Cassl, though, wants to complain. “I can’t believe you got dressed up for this.” She even tousled up the hairporn, my doves. This is Serious Sexy. “Tell me again why Ryan and Esposito couldn’t come with you?” “We all agreed as volunteer assistant homicide detective, you could really sink your teeth into this avenue of investigation. (rawrrrrrrrrrrr) And they called Not It.”
Cassl pouts but follows her anyway. “You know, ever since I’ve been following you I’ve been dreaming of the day that you’d say ‘Let’s go to the strip club and get this dirtbag.’ I just never imagined it would feel like this.”
She grins. “Let me know if you need any singles.” Slaps him on the arm. I’m going to call it sexy. Try to stop me.
They thread their way through the mobs of women shrieking at the cowboy dancing onstage. He tears off his vest and tosses it, and well fuck a duck, why doncha, Cassl catches it. And he is immediately mobbed by women who start stuffing money into his shirt. And it makes me SO FUCKING HAPPY and I just CANNOT EVEN, because yes, I would have been at the front of that crowd. Even Bekt looks half amused, half irritated as she mouths what the - and drags him by the arm.
Meanwhile, back at the precinct, in the Break Room Of Awesome, Ryan makes coffee in a bro-tastic way and waxes poetic over the sadness of Stripper coming to town to follow his dreams and getting, you know, deadified. And Espo strips off his sweater (he can do that any day. ANY DAY. Just sayin’.) and starts doing those inverted pushup things with the chair. Ryan is all WTF, Bro. But Espo is NOT AMUSED. “‘Up to his ears in A-Rods?’ I got an A-Rod for that son of a bitch. Three years varsity ball. Two years Special Forces triathlon. And NYPD police calendar 2007. What.”
“It was a group photo.” Irish was March. Dressed as the Easter Bunny.
Espo BroGlare. “I got letters.”
“Yeah, three. Two of ‘em from your mom.”
“One of ‘em was from my mom.”
“Sure.” Irish has the Sweet Irish Face Of Innocence. Espo gives him more BroGlare and grabs his (probably girly) coffee and sweater and huffs off. “Twilight, my ass.” WORD.
Since I have just had a small seizure of BroSnark Love, let’s go back to the strip club, shall we? Bekt, holding drinks that sadly don’t look alcoholic, returns to their table to find her errant Puppy being surrounded, and pawed, by very excited women. No, I was not one of them. Yes, I would have been if I’d found a way. “Cassl?”
He looks up, all Oh Shit, I’m In Trouble. “Hey!...Honey!...Oh, you found me. I was just telling Denise here about you.” Uh huh. BektGape of WTF Is Happening In My Life Right Now?
Cassl continues, but his harem starts to drift. “This is, uh, my girlfriend, whose idea it was to come here tonight. She’s very adventurous, you have no idea – ” but the ladies are leaving.
Bekt takes her rightful place beside him and he gulps in relief. “Thank God you found me. Oh my God, these women are like pirahnas.” Yeah we are, WriterMan. Bekt is not fooled into thinking he doesn’t like it, and she dishes out the full, 100% BektEyeRoll for the occasion.
But she’s actually still paying attention to Plot, which is more than I’m doing right now. “So listen. I just talked to one of the bartenders – ” my guess is all she had to do was lean forward a little and let the negligée do the talking – but anyway, Long Blonde Hair is named Hans and he dances here and had trouble with Dead Stripper.
Cassl’s all Let’s Go Backstage And Talk To Him! “No need to, honey.” And yes, that is Bekt making fun of his quickness to leap to the We’re So Totally Fucking Each Other story for undercover work. “He’s in the next act.” So she’s punishing Cassl for letting Other Women grope him by forcing him to sit through an act at a male strip club…
…yep, I think that’s fair.
Especially because the next act is firemen. Sexy firemen. Sexy firemen dancing to “Hot In Herre.”
THIS SHOW FUCKING LOVES ME.
Cassl tries to laugh it off. “Firemen? Really? It’s not a little cliché?” Bekt doesn’t answer him, just half-smiles, pressing her tongue to her front teeth because, um, no. It’s kind of awesome.
HELL YEAH they start stripping off their coats, and OMFG. Just OMFG. Pelvic thrusting. Come hither looks. Drink it in, bachelorette parties.
CasslScared. “Oh, God.” Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuck, I am, like, crying I’m laughing so hard. And Bekt’s laughing too, mostly because Cassl looks like he’s about to urp.
“Haven’t these guys got the memo about the correlation between suntanning and skin cancer?”
“Can you just relax, Cassl?” Enjoy the oily semi-naked men. “We gotta figure out which one is Hans.” Oh, right, and Plot too.
Handily, one of them whips off his firemen’s helmet just then and shakes out long blonde Fabio hair. OK. Convenient.
She hates to break up the Hot In Herre, but Bekt is the Hottest In Herre, so she struts up the stage and tries to BektBadge Hans into submission. He doesn’t seem to get it, just keeps dancing up on her, and Cassl is NOT HAPPY ABOUT THAT, so he grabs a fire extinguisher and whooshes Hans with the fire extinguishment of GET YOUR PELVIS OFF MY (FAKE) GIRLFRIEND, YOU MANWHORE.
Commercial break, during which Cassl (probably) became the Package Store’s newest dancer. Hey. A girl can dream, right?
We return to the dressing room backstage, where we discover that Hans A. is a little bit of a girlyman and B. has the WORST FUCKING GERMAN ACCENT EVER. EVER. He didn’t like Dead Stripper, whom he calls “a little bitch. Do you know how many hours he spent rehearsing out ‘Privates of the Caribbean’ routine? [OMFG. JUST WHY.] Zero.” Aw. Schade, Hans. “Hans von Manschaft is the one doing the real work out there every night.” FUCK. MY. LIFE.
Cassl cannot believe this. “Hans von Manschaft? That’s a hell of a stage name.” He just giggles. Because seriously. Seriously.
“I’ll have you know, I come from a long line of proud von Manschafts.” Hans. Please. Just stop before I die. Cassl just bites his lips because, like me, he just cannot. Cannot even.
Bekt, fearless, goes for Plot in spite of all my strongest objections. Hans gets freaked out when she says the word ‘murder’ and completely drops Das Shitty Akzent. Says the hair got on Stripper’s cop outfit because the club stores all the costumes together. And he alibis out because he was onstage with women stuffing money in his manpanties. So we cannot say Yes, dice. We must say No, dice.
OH FUCK. HANS IS WEARING UGGS. I AM NOT LYING, GO BACK AND WATCH THIS SCENE. HE IS WEARING FUCKING UGGS.
Hans tells them Stripper had a wealthy older girlfriend who used to send him flowers every night, but then last week, the flowers stopped coming… and then he puts Das Shitty Akzent back on and tries the Stripper Pout Of Put Money In My ManPanties at Bekt. He actually tries it. Cassl and Bekt share a quick Eyefuck Of I Think I Need A Shower. In Bleach. And Then Maybe We’ll Have Sex.
Back to the precinct, and I’m a little surprised all the male cops in NY aren’t trailing after Bekt because she is STRAIGHTUP WEARING LINGERIE, PEOPLE. I’m relatively sure she and Cassl had a quick round of slap and tickle in the car on the way back. I have no proof. I don’t care. It happened.
My Loving Bros are here to make me happy. And, you know, for Plot too. “What’s up, you run out of singles?” No, Espo, Bekt put them all in Cassl’s pants and then – oh, never mind, you know where I’m going with this.
Irish says yep, some flower shop confirmed the Cougar Bouquets thing. And is it just me, or is this one of the first times we’ve seen Bekt in earrings? I don’t remember seeing her wear them before. Huh.
Cassl decides to be helpful. “I told you if we beat on Manschaft, something would pop.” OMFG. OMFG. HE JUST SAID THAT. HE DID. Like me, Bekt is dirty-minded enough that she doesn’t miss it, just shoots Cassl a glare of STOP Making Sex Jokes When I Can’t Actually DO Anything About It.
Plot stuff to catch up on: flowers were ordered by a very wealthy 48-year-old widow and former model. Cassl gets intrigued, uses that soft, sexy, suggestive bedroom/storytelling voice (rawrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr) to spin a possible tale of the finally-free widow who finds love with a younger man, but it gets taken away, and I’m sorry, but the fact that he is using his bedroom voice on a Bekt who is already wearing exactly what she’s going to be wearing in his bedroom later tonight…the 12th is unusually sexy today, friends. I vote for The Sex. Now.
“…if she couldn’t have him…well then…no one could.”
Tobias Bluth Cassl finishes his scene and Irish pipes up. “Did you go home and watch Sunset Boulevard before your little trip to the Package Store?” TWENTY POINTS TO HUFFLEPUFF.
“Thank you for your always-entertaining stories, but - ” and I’m all, Right, Bekt. Go ahead and pretend Cassl wasn’t seducing you with his Sex Voice. We all know the truth. She says they’ll just, you know, interview her tomorrow morning. And then she and Cassl walk away together, and I’m sorry, what more proof do I need that they’re headed back to his place to go do a little ‘brainstorming’ on the desk in his office? Seriously. Don’t fight me on this one. You won’t win.
Sadly, Cassl walks into his loft alone (OK, maybe they did The Sex back at Bekt’s place) and discovers CasslLadies drinking root beer floats, Lex in costume, to prepare her for the callbacks, because she’s on the short list to be Sandy! Good job, Princess Lex. Three cheers. Unfortunately, Martha has decided to also be in costume, which consists of pants so tight they should be illegal. Yikes.
Lex trots off to bed and Cassl tells Martha, “You’re a very good influence on Aexis.” SWEET. Martha immediately starts checking to see if he’s feverish or delerious. Har. “You have always been dedicated. That can’t have been easy.”
So sweet. And a struggling actress/single mom? Had to be tough. Martha counts through crappy gigs she took to pay the bills, including secretary. Lord A’mighty. That would be funny to see. Martha a secretary? Yes.
Morning. Bekt slips out of Cassl’s room long before the sun is up. We head to Widow’s place. It’s nice. Bekt and Puppy exit the elevator (in which they were feverishly groping eachother) and Cassl decides to be Cassl. “Oh, I’m sure many a pretty boy have [sic] walked this hall.” Including yourself, sir. He waxes eloquent for a few seconds before Mildly Amused Bekt cuts in. “Maybe we should talk with her before you start writing the Lifetime movie.” Or maybe you two should just go make out. That too.
They’re greeted at the door by Widow’s attorney. They interview Widow. She has lots of orchids in her place, and I like them. Widow liked Stripper. He was honest about his pants-dropping jobs, and it didn’t bother her. Widow broke up with him because he asked to borrow $25,000. SRSLY. She didn’t want to be used. Which is fair. That’s a lot of money to stuff in manpanties, yo. Widow had Attorney Bob hire a PI, who got a photo of Stripper arguing with a young woman. Ruh roh.
Back at the precinct, my sweet and smart Irish pulls out the photos. Stripper arguing with girl. PI followed girl and she’s in a biker gang. MY BEKT GETS THE CONNECTION. She has Irish pull up Stripper’s (shitty) acting reel, and yep, the biker gang leader is a guy Stripper portrayed (shittily) on America’s Most Wanted. Ha. It’s Bob Grim, leader of the Visigoths motorcycle gang. Wanted for extortion, assault, and deliberate crimes against the Roman empire. Was caught because of tht shitty performance by Stripper. And whaddaya know, Bob’s out of jail. Bekt’s all Hmm, Was BikerChick Setting Stripper Up For MURDER?
Dramatic drumbeats to commercials.
BIKERLAND. CasslPuppy gets scared and darts over to hide behind Bekt’s petticoats as a bulldog snarls at him. To be fair, remember, he did get attacked by a dog that one time he got cursed by a mummy. It’s just so sweet that he instinctively runs to Bekt for protection. She badges her way into the shop, Cassl tagging along behind her, still scared and kind of twitchy.
Bob Grim (IT IS THE GRIM!) says yeah, he was ticked. But Stripper came to him, paid him $25,000, and Bob was all, Well, OK Then. Never Mind. Bekt’s skeptical, but he insists. Tis true. BikerChick walks over, and when Bekt’s all, Hey BikerChick, Why Were YOU Talking To Stripper? and shows the photo and Grim is all WTF?, BikerChick confesses that she was scared Grim would kill Stripper and go back to prison, so shewarned Stripper, told him to pay off Grim. “I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you again. The only way you’re going back to jail is over my dead body.”
Grim and his mustache look very unhappy…until he grabs BikerChick and growls, “Pookiebear, that is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard, Baby.” She climbs up on him and they start necking in front of Cassl and Bekt, who look tremendously uncomfortable, because it is only OK when they do it and they’re usually more discreet about it. And then Bob slaps BikerChick’s ass and I just GAH. NNNGH. I only want to see Bekt and Cassl doing that. No one else.
Let’s just walk away from that one.
Back to the 12th with us, then. Irish says Grim’s alibi checks out. Bekt points out that a stripper wouldn’t have $25,000 on hand. Then Cassl figures out that Stripper’s bank account was with a different bank than the bank receipt we found in his car way back at the beginning of the episode – remember that? – and AHA, THERE IS MORE PLOT.
Sure enough, Irish comes running back to Big Sister to report that yep, $25,000 was withdrawn by Bob Mandelay the day Stripper paid Grim. OK, Bob Mandelay. Let’s find you. And surveillance footage…reveals that STRIPPER WAS MANDELAY. Dyed his hair grey (remember how Lanie told us that?) and was looking all distinguished. Hmm.
Thoughtful commercials of WTF?
And back again, just in time to see Bekt slam down her desk phone, and srsly, Bekt, what did that phone ever do to you? Hmph. Stripper Mandelay took money from an account called Sunfire. Which is pretty much untraceable.
I’m getting tired and this recap is getting long, so I’m streamlining here. Stripper was playing the role of Mandelay to convince investors to put money into Sunfire. Bekt’s all, Let’s Trace Le Money. Which leads us to interview a Jersey Shore Oompa Loompa. I do not lie, that girl’s skin is fucking orange leather. She says Mandelay convinced her and her friends to invest $10,000 each in riverfront ofts in Hoboken. Bekt and Cassl do a sort of Quick Eyefuck Of Sigh, She Is Stupid As Shit.
Bekt and Cassl head over the the Braverman Lofts, the ones Mandelay was talking about, and SHIT SON. The showroom is GORGEOUS. Cassl goes WHOA. “400,000 for one of these? I’ll take two.” Yes. As soon as he tests out that bed over there. With Bekt. And maybe some privacy.
They talk to the guy who owns the place, who gripes that Mandelay was running a scam, trying to sell these lofts for cheap, and he’s SICK of it. Huh. There is a pause, and then Bekt shifts on her feet a little. “Do you have any brochures? I’m looking for a place. Mine blew up.” Developer Bob gives her a look of No – Wait – Seriously? – Well, You’re Really Hot, So OK Then.
Um…it was 2x17 her place blew up. This is 3x7. You’re really telling me she still hasn’t found a place? Huh.
On their way out, Bekt and Cassl do the Finishing Each Other’s Sentences Verbal Sex thing to figure out that Stripper wasn’t getting the money here. His partner was; Stripper was hired as the face of Sunfire because of his looks and charm. Then when Stripper needed money, he took it from this scam and then decided he wanted to pull out of the deal.
Whew. Cigarette, anyone?
BektPhone interrupts them mid-coitus. It reports to BektEar that the original papers for the Sunfire account were signed by WIDOW. Cassl JawDrop. “Shut the front door!”
Oh commercials of love, how I love thee.
Back to Plot, yo. Bekt shows Papagomery what they’ve got. Irish scampers in with more Plot, but it’s mostly that vest he’s wearing that brings me all the joy, ever. Really. I love you, Irish with your Sweet Irish Vests.
Getting bored now because it’s mostly plot. The final verdict? The killer is actually Attorney Bob. He embezzled money from Widow and set up the whole scam. When Stripper pulled out of the game, he shot him because Stripper knew too much. Boom. Done.
Case over. Casslhaus, eventide. Martha and Cassl chatting and cooking. In comes Lex. She didn’t get the part of Sandy; now she’s stage manager. Nicely done. Now she has TRUE POWER and can RUIN THOSE LITTLE PEONS’ LIVES if she wants too. Mwahahaha.
Wow, sorry, that was kind of evil.
And we finish with Papa Cassl and Princess Cassl feeding the bird and fuck ALL, this family is adorable.