Bowel Clenching Is Another Thing I'm Afraid Of
Smooth Brain Grazette Vol. 3: Ryan Murphy's 9-1-1 What Is Your Emergency?!
You guys, this show is so stupid. The extent to which this show is stupid cannot be overstated. It can’t even be quantified! The limit does not exist! And thank Almighty Birkenstocked Jesus because listen I have had a WEEK. Like, a week. The kind of week that inspired this dissociative series in the first place!
The kind of week where you find out your Dad is taking a weekly Ivermectin “supplement.”
You know the type of week I mean. I’m talking about the sort of week where you find out your Dad is taking a weekly Ivermectin “supplement”! You guys get it. Who among us! We all have those weeks every once in a while, ones where you’re just minding your own goddamn business barely hanging on by a fucking filament as the world you’ve crafted begins to slowly crumble into dust and then just when you’ve collapsed into a heap to keen at the moon your brother calls and he’s all, “Yes hi real quick Dad is taking a weekly Ivermectin ‘supplement.’” Oh! Cool! Quick question why is everything like this?! ALEXA WHY WON’T DEATH COME?
So that’s how I’m doing! How are you?! LOL DON’T ANSWER THAT. Instead, let’s crack on, as the Brits say, with Volume 3 of Smooth Brain Gazette and talk about who called 911 on Ryan Murphy’s deliciously stupid 9-1-1 until our wrinkly brains are smooth as the finest of imported silks! If you missed episode 1, it’s here, but the beauty of Ryan Murphy’s 9-1-1 is that all plotlines can be summarized in a single, deeply stupid sentence. So don’t worry if you’re not caught up, this is basically Paw Patrol for adults who do sex sometimes!
The usual disclaimer about hyperbole notwithstanding, I was once again hoarse by the end of this episode from screaming into a winter’s night (technically spring but it fucking snowed yesterday so fuck a calendar, much like these hips these eyes don’t lie!). I mean first of fucking all, here’s our opening image.
Bitch you already know. You already know! You already know. A roller coaster cannot just be a roller coaster on Ryan Murphy’s 9-1-1. Motion to change “Chekhov’s gun” to “Ryan Murphy’s roller coaster”!
Someone send a telex to Robert McKee and the Iowa Writer’s Workshop about the change, thanks.
We meet our dramatis personae for what will surely be our opening 911 call as they wait in line for said roller coaster, a skinny dude and a very much NOT skinny dude and once again I say unto you: YOU ALREADY KNOW.
Where my fat kids at?! If you’ve been a skinny piece of shit all your life first of all fuck you, B of all die, and tertiarily of all this is a time for you to LISTEN AND LEARN. Not everything is ABOUT you, okay? Not all of us got to buy our school jeans at the Gap some of us had to go to the HUSKY SECTION OF SEARS because that’s what fit us and it was the credit card our mom had this isn’t FOR you!!! Go eat a cheeseburger and have a positive body image or whatever it is you skinny-ass goblins do LEAVE US ALONE!!!
Okay so fat kids, now that the skinny pieces of shit have left and it’s just us: You know what’s coming right? Fat guy, skinny guy, roller coaster, 911, you know what’s coming! The thing we spent the entirety of our teens fearing. GIRLYOUKNOWYOUKNOW!!! I cackled the MOMENT these two came onscreen. There’s a person in this writer’s room who got called “fatso” every day on the school bus until at least the age of 12, that’s all I know, and may they be blessed.
Anyway fat dude is anxious. He does not want to go on Ryan Murphy’s Roller Coaster™! As shrieks of delight emanate from the roller coaster above, he’s like, “I don’t need to experience the kind of bowel-clenching fear that makes people scream like that,” and then he goes:
This isn’t a bit: What the fuck does that mean? What the fuck does that mean! I’ve been thinking about it for days. Of course the specific form of homosexual brain worms with which I am infected makes “Is he a bottom virgin afraid to give a man his special rosebud?” the first thing that springs to mind, but that doesn’t really fit into the story arc here so p sure this isn’t about breaking on through to the other side, if you know what I mean. (Of the sphincter, the other side of the sphincter, is what I’m getting at.) If you figure it out, please DM me.
Anyway, Skinny Friend coaxes Fat Guy into doing it anyway because there are two hot girls in front of them they want to impress. (Typical skinny people shit. isn’t there a FuN rUn somewhere you could all go cardiac arrest at? I’m tired!) And fellow fat kids, did I tell you or did I tell you?
Fat Friend’s thighs too thiccccccccc for the bar to safely secure itself and I started laughing so fucking hard I had to pause it because, I cannot reiterate this enough, if you were a fat kid YOU ALREADY KNOW! You know precisely where we’re going here: the roller coaster takes off and the bar comes loose because oops, roller coasters are not built for fats!!! As I always say, telly is a visual medium so we will let screenshots do the talking here.
There has never been a better, more evocative series of images in all of television history. When Television’s Connie Britton came onscreen with this exasperated “Bitch are you fucking kidding me” face my entire psyche collapsed. I was INCAPACITATED by this sequence. There is DEFINITELY a fat in this writer’s room because if there’s a fat alive who hasn’t feared PRECISELY THIS when riding a roller coaster with one of you skinny monsters I haven’t met them! Bravo/a to the writers for making it the Skinny who dies a horrifying death and not the Fat! THIS IS FAT ACCEPTANCE CONTENT! REPRESENTATION MATTERS!!!
Anyway PLEASE, scroll back up and look at the girls behind Fat and Skinny as Skinny and his high-tops are PROJECTILING out of his roller coaster seat. End the episode here! Finish on a laugh!!!
But one of the things I respect about Ryan Murphy is he is NEVER afraid to go too far. EVER! Case in point: Glee. No specific episode or moment, just the entire show. It went too far. Not afraid of going too far, that’s the Ryan Murphy promise. And so of course this isn’t the end. Not by a long shot. CUT TO:
BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
So our intrepid LAFD firefighters arrive, and they rig up the firetruck ladder and send Great Value Kellan Lutz up there and:
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!!!! AHHH!!! AHHHHHH!!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
Now LOOK. I don’t want to be uncharitable here but I have been going to the gym for 20 fucking years ok 18 ok I haven’t been in 3 but before that I went steadily for 5 and I cannot do a SINGLE PULL-UP with this flesh yacht of mine let alone hold my entire body weight dangling from a fucking ROLLY COASTER for as long as it takes for the FIRE DEPARTMENT TO ARRIVE and Great Value Kellan Lutz to SCALE A LOOP-DE-LOOP. What is this guy a goddamn trapeze artist? Like I don’t mean to quash anyone’s fitness dreams but this is nonsense! You can sign up for all the Beach Body MLMs you want but you are never going to be able to do this because physics exist! Practice acceptance you weak-armed piece of shit!
But this is Ryan Murphy’s Los Angeles, where physics is just a subject nerds take in school, so the scene continues with Fat Friend a-danglin’ from the rolly coaster. Great Value Kellan Lutz is like “Are you all okay?” and one of the blond girls behind Fat Friend is like “NO” and starts like lodging complaints and I’m sorry but this is JUST. LIKE. A SKINNY WHITE. IDK if you’ve NOTICED Ashleyigheighy but there’s a dude DANGLING FROM A ROLLY COASTER BY HIS HANDS because nobody ever thought that maybe a Fat might want to ride a rolly coaster too so maybe you could just sit there in your PERFECTLY CALIBRATED SAFETY BAR SPECIFICALLY DESIGNED FOR SKINNY ASSES LIKE YOURS AND SHUT THE FUCK UP. And go get those brassy-ass highlights corrected too, shit! The absolute unmitigated temerity IT WAS A RHETORICAL QUESTION MA’AM. We need a skinny genocide.
So Great Value finally reaches Fat Friend with some sort of life-saving strap device and all Fat Friend has to do is grab the strap with one hand, but he’s panicking! In part because an enormous crowd has gathered below the loop-de-loop, cellphones akimbo, and he’s having an emotional collapse about the inevitable “hee hee look at the fat dangling from the roller coaster haha fats are funny!” virality of this whole thing. He starts weeping and moans, “I don’t want them to see me like this,” which honestly… that shit is TOO REAL. And I’m not even that fat! I don’t want to claim any oppression here that isn’t actually mine! But I sure as hell was as a young’n, and the mere THOUGHT of pocket cameras and social media having existed when I was taking up about twice the preferred amount of space in the halls of East Hills Middle School while silently praying to spontaneously combust makes me want to take a toaster bath. Low-key? This broke my heart! But THEN—well, you already know:
Ok bye girl! Fat Friend goes all Alicia Silverstone in that Aerosmith video, and thank God because it was getting ENTIRELY too wrinkle-brained in here! I don’t come to Ryan Murphy’s 9-1-1 to revisit my trauma and think about fatphobia, I come to Ryan Murphy’s 9-1-1 to shriek until my vocal cords snap while my brain leaks out of my ears. Lighten the fuck up!
So naturally, Great Value Kellan Lutz is traumatized by this experience, because as you may remember from episode one, he is young! And green! A cocksure know-it-all who’s seen nothing yet! And Fat Friend was Great Value’s first loss on the job, so you know this is gonna be a whole thing.
But put a pin in that because first, we must endure a series of ~*character development*~ scenes: people giving Great Value advice on the topic of ~*loss*~ on the job, Television’s Connie Britton struggling to properly care for her Alzheimer’s Mother, and look, I’m sorry but I tuned in for disasters and injuries not This Is Us! Keep it pushin’, Murphy! There was one compelling moment, however, wherein Angela Mother Fucking Bassett’s recently de-closeted Gay-Ass Husband says, “Hey babe, you want a cup of coffee?” and she just goes:
She fucking hates her husband so fucking much!!! If anyone, let alone AMFB, ever responded to anything I said in this manner I would cut out my own tongue with a ginsu knife and feed it to the goddamn dog. Iconic.
Anyway we FINALLY get to our next 911 call and speaking of dogs…
Um, respectfully: what? Television’s Connie Britton is as confused as we are.
Well! Turns out EVERYBODY IS. Here’s what goes down. We cut to AMFB taking this 911 call—inexplicably underscored by TLC’s “No Scrubs.” (What is it with this show and matching AMFB with TLC? Last episode it was her telling Great Value to not “go chasin’ waterfalls” and now she’s bopping to “No Scrubs” on the way to save some dude from “devil dogs”? RACIST!) AMFB’s big idea for this dog attack scenario? My God it’s so fucking stupid.
She throws on her siren and lights, cuts across six lanes of traffic and goes blazing through a fucking Rally’s drive-through in the wrong direction, yelling over her loudspeaker about “an emergency” before pulling up to the window like, “Hey girl, gimme some cheebergies.”
LOLOLOLOL okay then! She then heads to the call, where this asshole is fending off the “devil dogs” with the dish sprayer from the sink.
I have a question: Has anyone on staff at this show ever MET a dog? There is no justifiable reason why those dogs couldn’t have gotten onto that counter and mauled that dude to death! My family had a dog who once jumped onto the counter to eat a fucking ballpoint pen, they will find a way for literally no payoff, let alone the chance to eat a human person alive! Am I the only one who cares about the writing?!
Apparently yes, because you will not believe this shit. Just as The Stud is starting to freak out about these dogs, AMFB rocks up with her bag of Rally’s all, “Dont’ worry, I got your back.” And I screamed “NO” from the depths of my soul. But it’s a yes: Those Rally’s burgers were not for lunch. They were for this shit:
AMFB and The Stud lure these rabid dogs into a closet by throwing Rally’s cheeseburgers at them and I swear to God I have never seen anything stupider or more perfect in my life. I am a VEGETABLE. Just blissfully dead in the brains! Call me Terry Schiavo (too soon?)! I have never known such peace ahhhhhhh…
But then it gets stupider! Ol’ dude is like:
And The Stud, speaking for all of us man-haters everywhere, is like:
But The Stud is the best kind of man-hater, the type that will still be your wing-woman even though you ain’t shit. She tells AMFB ol’ dude asked for her number, and when AMFB explains she’s still married, The Stud is like:
She’s like BITCH YOUR MAN’S A CAKE BOY! A DISCO-DANCING, OSCAR WILDE-READING, STREISAND-TICKET-HOLDING FRIEND OF DOROTHY QUIT PLAYING! Yes, The Stud! Drag her!!!
Now, you might find yourself asking some questions about this scene, specifically: How did these rabid dogs get into this dude’s house? Are they doggie burglars? Unless these are velociraptor dogs they don’t even know how to operate doorknobs! The math ain’t mathing, is it? Well this all may have occurred to you, and to me, but it certainly didn’t occur to THE ACTUAL COPS! Cuz all of a sudden a car rolls up and a dude gets out all:
And The Stud is like *pulls collar, winces* because turns out it wasn’t the dogs that were burglars, it was ol’ dude who was a burglar and NOBODY THOUGHT TO ASK HIM ANY QUESTIONS INCLUDING THE ACTUAL COP ON THE SCENE. To get us out on a cliffhanger, AMFB goes, “Everything’s fine, except that your house has been burglarized—AND I LET THE BURGLAR GET AWAY” and smash cut to commercial! Whew! This show is stupid, what a rush!
Next we go to Television’s Connie Britton watching a news report about Great Value Kellan Lutz’s rolly coaster heroics, which have gone mega-viral just like Fat Friend (may he rest) thought they would. She turns to Alzheimer’s Mom’s nurse and says:
And oh brother, please God tell me we’re not doing what I think we’re doing. The nurse, who is of course a Sassy Black Lady™, eggs her on and tells her to call him. And at first I was like “COME ON SASSY BLACK NURSE” but honestly fuck it, good for her because that is fucking TERRIBLE advice and it’s about time Black women started actively sabotaging the white people in their lives! This is progress!
So TCB calls Great Value, who is AT THE SCENE OF AN ACTUAL FIRE all like:
Yes! Correct response! And it turns out, this crazy bitch got his number from the incident report when Fat Friend ipso facto suicided off a rolly coaster! This is sociopathic and I would certainly hope extremely illegal behavior! Great Value, you in danger girl! And just as this phone call gets awkward to the point of needing a thorazine drip to endure another fucking second, THANK CHRIST we get another 911 call, a window washer whose rig has come undone! Oh noes!!!
He narrowly escapes death but only after other firefighters step in for Great Value Kellan Lutz, who froze up and was unable to perform his life-saving job on account of being traumatized by murdering Fat Friend via rolly coasteral manslaughter in the first degree! And hoo boy, my longtime companion Daddy Krause is mad!
Oh my God that’s exactly how my father looks at me to let me know I am his biggest disappointment and I have never been this hard. MAKE ME FEEL INADEQUATE DADDY KRAUSE!!! Grab me by the hair and then whisper in my ear, your lips just barely grazing my ear lobe, “Why does it have to be YOU who’s gay, why can’t it be someone else’s kid?” unnnnnnhhhhhhhhh oh my god I’m gonna c—wait now I’m thinking about the Ivermectin “supplement” thing again. Goddammit, this episode started out so promising! If this shit doesn’t smooth this brain out IMMEDIATELY I swear to God.
Well, I got my wish. Daddy Krause gives Great Value a business card for a trauma counselor, which Daddy for some reason pronounces “TROW-ma,” as if that first syllable rhymes with cow? I was so shocked by this I had to rewind it 47 times. How many people were on that set that day and NOBODY thought to pull Daddy aside and be like “Respectfully, are you sundowning?” It’s the incompentence for me.
Anyway, Great Value goes to TROW-ma therapy and JESUS FUCKING FIREFIGHTING CHRIST.
HE FUCKS THE THERAPIST. AHHHHHHHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! There is literally nothing more illegal than this! Like I’m pretty sure in some states this is statutory rape! These writers are WILDINGuh!!!
This shit is so ludicrous I delayed this entry for a day so that I could ask my therapist for a pull-quote before publishing, and here’s what she said (after I fucked her):
“Ohr naur.” (She’s Australian.)
But she also said:
“Uh, yeah that’s an immOYdiate deLOYcenshuh? End she’d be bahd from the prohrfishion for LOYF? End depinding on the cuhrcumstinces she moight gohr to prisun? You call that a knoyf? That’s not a knoyf, THIS is a knoyf.”
That was “Uh yeah that’s an immediate delicensure, and she’d be barred from the profession for life, and depending on the circumstances she might go to prison” in a phonetically spelled Australian accent with a Crocodile Dundee reference added to the end. Have you considered paying me for this content on Patreon?
Anyway, are you fucking kidding me?! They spent a whole session talking about how Great Value can’t stop seeing the look in Fat Friend’s eyes just before he fell to his rolly coaster death, and that somehow turned this woman on?! The fuck?! I don’t mean to kink shame but JESUS CHRIST BITCH! I think you need to GO to therapy a while longer before you start PRACTICING it. You are not ready!
Um, neither can I, the viewing public, or the entire mental health profession GO TO JAIL!!!!!
And speaking of the unethical and extremely illegal, AMFB, fresh off a therapy session herself in which Gay-Ass Husband has admitted he already has a boyfriend doing gay sex to him on the regular, goes hunting for some revenge dick to pop that pussy—and guess who she finds!
The dog burglar guy! I am CERTAIN this too is a federal crime! Now he is fine, so this is definitely a moral quandary for our times, but ANGELA MOTHER FUCKING BASSETT YOU ARE BETTER THAN THIS!!! But wait, hold up! They start talking about what they’re into sexually, and AMFB goes:
My fucking heart stopped. As I’ve often told you, I am The Dumbest Bitch In Every Room Since 1978™ so at first I didn’t put two-and-two together here and truly thought that was just a rando and AMFB was into some freak shit, like that gay dude “pup pack” fetish?! (No judgments!) And I was like ohhhhhhkay rein it in with your GAY AGENDA Ryan Murphy, this isn’t the fucking Eagle! You can’t be telling all the Republicans who watch this show all our secret shit, they’re already trying to put us in camps!
But then ol’ dude freaked out and started running and I was like ohhhhh he’s the DOG BURGLAR DUDE!!! Gotta say, realizing you are too fucking stupid for even Ryan Murphy’s 9-1-1 is a sobering experience, but I presume it means that I am making great strides toward brain smoothness, which is an exciting accomplishment! 2022 is my year, I can feel it!
Anyway, it’s mere moments before AMFB has him cornered in an alley and is taking out her rage toward Gay-Ass Husband on his ass, brutalizing him on the hood of her cruiser with the accumulated rage of a woman scorned.
And listen, ACAB and defund the police and this is surely entrapment or a violation of the Geneva Convention or some other shit I don’t understand (habeas corpus???) but I don’t give a FUCK. I DON’T GIVE A FUCK!!!!! Tase his fucking ballsack too for good measure! I want brutality, AMFB, get his ass!!! Also be real it looks like she’s pegging him and this dude down here is balls deep. ART.
Anyway, ANGELA! MOTHER FUCKING! BASSETT!!!
Fresh off that high we next plummet to what has to be the nadir of this entire show, already in episode 2. Because this next 911 call is so fucking stupid I watched the whole thing with my face screwed up like I was smelling the dump someone took in the heating vents.
The scene begins with a married couple having a standard married argument?
As we zoom into an apartment building, you hear a hen-pecked dude exasperatingly yell “I do whatever you tell me to!” And then an exasperated woman yells back, “THAT’S PART OF THE PROBLEM LEONARD!” in a replication of the sort of seven-year itch, spark-is-gone rough patches all too common among married couples. Standard shit, really, except oh wait I forgot one detail: this spat is occurring ON THE LEDGE OF A HIGH-RISE BECAUSE THIS DUDE IS THREATENING TO SUICIDE TO WIN AN ARGUMENT.
I honestly don’t know where to begin with this. Mainly because this is … not a thing?! People do not suicide to stick it to heir bItCh WiFe! Like! This is not! What is! Why would he!
I can’t.
Like I don’t even know what to type here! They are literally just arguing!
There is ZERO urgency on either of their parts, it is just standard boiler-plate lover’s quarrel shit! Except also a suicide?! It makes no goddamn sense whatsoever. The basic gist is this: He thinks she cheated, she claims she didn’t, he thinks she’s lying so he’s suiciding to make her confess? Or to prove a point? I honestly dk because at no point is it in any way clear what is going on!
And it just keeps getting more absurd as it goes. Dude’s like “If I’m so terrible why did you move in?!” And she’s like, “If you’d come down from there we could talk about how you can improve!” And he’s all, “I don’t NEED to improve!!!”
You know how it is, we all know THAT couple who constantly have the same stupid arguments WHILE DANGLING FROM THE SIDE OF A DOWNTOWN LOS ANGELES HIGH RISE.
These writers should be ashamed of themselves. Nobody does shit like this unless they’re on angel dust! This is barbiturate shit! The fuck are you guys doing in that writer’s room? Whatever it is please keep doing it forever and ever amen, but still! Ohhhhhh wait, okay, THIS is what they’re doing.
This is all a pretext for something called “The Maneuver.” And this is ALSO a pretext to make Great Value face his fear by making him be the one to do “The Maneuver.”
(Ugh that jawline. Is there a way he can rail me with that jawline? You know what, in the new Peter Krause porn Substack I’m launching there is. It’s fanfic, we can suspend disbelief. I’m ‘bout to get PLOWED by Daddy Krause’s jawline mandible-deep.)
Anyway, Great Value is not sure he can handle it guys! How is Great Value supposed to do this if he can’t fuck his therapist about it?!
So what is “The Maneuver” you ask? You truly will not believe it. Basically it’s this: Daddy goes up to the balcony to ~*connect*~ with suicide guy by telling him he knows how he feels because one time he proposed to a lady on the Eiffel Tower and she broke his heart like a total bitch!!!
And while he’s doing THAT, Great Value is scaling the building.
And Daddy’s story is hitting suicide guy HARD.
Wow not since Jenny heroining on a balcony while “Free Bird” plays in Forrest Gump has suicide been so emotionally compelling!!! And it’s a good thing, because while suicide guy is distracted by the depths of male pain at the hands of bitch girlfriends, THIS happens:
Great Value TARZANS OVER TO THE BALCONY AND KICKS SUICIDE GUY BACK INTO HIS HOUSE. I screamed until my throat split open and now I speak through a Passy-Muir valve. The fuck is this shit, Sylvester Stallone’s Cliffhanger?! This show is a miracle.
Anyway, the scene ends with suicide guy’s bitch wife turning to Daddy like “What happened? On the Eiffel Tower?” And he’s like:
HAHAHAHAHA women are so fucking stupid right?! They love rOmAnCe so much they can’t even tell the difference between a real love story and one just made up for the purposes of Tarzaning a suicider back into the house where he belongs! Lololololol WOMEN amirite? They bleed for a week every month and don’t die! FIRST RESPONDERS FUCK YEAH!
To close things up, we revisit Alzheimer’s Mom’s Sassy Black Nurse on her white-woman-revenge shit, and boy howdy has she turned up the heat! Television’s Connie Britton is obviously mooning over Great Value Kellan Lutz, but she knows that “he is WAY too young for me!” And Sassy Black Nurse is like, “I’ma get this bitch.” She tells Television’s Connie Britton:
And then the rest of the line hit me and I departed this astral plane to another dimension. She continues: “And you’re sitting around getting cold while there’s a big old hunk of man that would love to burn his tongue on you.”
Now, some would say this nurse needs to be sent to The Hague for even thinking these words let alone saying them, but it couldn’t be me! It could NOT be me!!! GET HER ASS, SASSY BLACK NURSE. Even Alzheimer’s Mom respects the devious hustle!
Anyway, surely Television’s Connie Britton comes to her senses, right? RIGHT? Hahahahahahahahahaha NOPE. She calls Great Value all like:
And Great Value Kellan Lutz, speaking for all of us, is like “How OLD are you?” RECORD SCRATCH. My heart stopped. He then ribs her for being OLD-FASHIONED (I can’t breathe) because nobody CALLS anymore (LIKE A 911 OPERATOR BORN IN THE LATE 1900s WOULD [I am having an aneurysm]). They use Snapchat and Instagram DMs and Marco Polo!
My soul left my body and went to be with my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Naturally, rather than being truthful and saying, “I’m 739” or whatever, Television’s Connie Britton just lies by omission and never answers the question, so if we’re sending Sassy Black Nurse to The Hague, ConnieAbby gotta go to Gitmo! This is egregious! See this is why the QAnons think all Hollywoods are Satanist pedophiles!
Thankfully, Great Value is like “I can’t go out with you on account of I’m a sex addict who is addicted to sex!” Phew! But then he clarifies, “I won’t go out with you because I like you,” so we are absolutely getting a profoundly awkward Great Value Kellan Lutz/Television’s Connie Britton love story from this show and I truly do not know how to feel about that except to say WHAT A GODDAMN MESS BEAM IT DIRECTLY INTO MY BRAIN VIA A SERIES OF HIGH-POWER ELECTRODES.
At last, we are at the conclusion of the episode, which ends with AMFB’s daughter attempting to unalive herself! I think it’s time we consider that Ryan Murphy might have a suicide fetish. Like! We are only two episodes in and there have been MULTIPLE suicide plots in both. The fuck bro?! I come here for MacGyver-level absurd Grey’s Anatomy on a fire truck, nobody needs this much suicide! People who do suicide don’t even do this much suicide! Fucking CHILL.
Anyway, we end on a And Just Like That-style WHY ARE YOU NOT CALLING 911 THE SHOW IS LITERALLY CALLED 9-1-1 cliffhanger and smash to the credits. And I absolutely cannot wait to see what AMFB does to Gay-Ass Husband in episode three to retaliate for this. I’m hoping for a Waiting To Exhale tribute in which she locks him in her police cruiser and shoots a flame thrower into the sunroof. Much to think about!
So there you have it! This has been Smooth Brain Gazette Vol. 3. I hope you feel at least incrementally stupider than you were before you opened this email! If so, you should consider sharing this post with someone you love who also needs to go to Jupiter to get more stupider!
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Ok thanks I love you hang in there you’re doing great bye bye!