FIC: The Gratuitous Dwanollah 90210 Episodes

Bells will be Ringin'!


So, I guess this BigLongWeddingEpisode would be, like a 2-hour season ender or something, so that makes this the opening of the second hour, I suppose, and after a whole mess of commercials and dumb FOX blurbs with 90210 stars pouting and vamping and all that, let the show continue...

“Bells Will Be Ringin’” Part II.

Heavy, cream-colored stationary flanked by a spray of dewy fresh flowers... roses in creamy, peachy, blushy golden-pink hues, rosy ranuculuses and sweet peas, delicate lilac-pink tulips, tied up with cascading streamers of pink satin ribbon.... And, ah, in impossibly elegant script:

 

The honour of your presence is requested

At the marriage of

Kelly Marlene Taylor

to

Mr. Brandon James Walsh....

And then the camera pulls back to show the bouquet and invitation charmingly displayed on a small table in the foyer of Casa Walsh where the Earthquake! pinball machine usually is, and next to the table is a large, framed formal portrait of Brandon and Kelly, arms around each other, Kelly beaming beatifically, Brandon leaning slightly over her, extra-macho and protective.... And there’s Hired People festooning the wrought-iron staircase railing with great spills of flowers and greenery and tulle and ribbon while, throughout Casa Walsh, in place of the regular furniture and knick-knacks and wall hangings are All Things Wedding... for instance, through the arching doorway into the noxious weirdly-blue-green living room, We the TV Viewers can see that the usual dark furniture and accouterments and hiddy carousel horse have given way to a few small clusters of overstuffed chairs and loveseats, their bride-white slipcovers charmingly accessorized with flowered pillows that compliment the colors of the wedding flowers... and speaking of flowers, banks of them are everywhere: in front of the fireplace, in tall vases and low bowls and hanging baskets trailing white tulle and in beribboned garlands.... Looking through the other arched doorway into the dining room, We the TV Viewers can see that the double-doors to the patio in the dining room have been thrown wide open, and golden sun streams in on the crisp linens and silver serving dishes being set up on several buffet tables, while, out on the unlit-lantern- and flower-bedecked patio itself, a white-gloved Ethnic Okay Other is meticulously setting up the scores of champagne glasses and there’s a not-yet-spraying fountain for bubbly on yet another white-cloth’d table and the great, towering couture wedding cake is resplendent under its own delicate draped garden awning. All of the white folding chairs have been set up in rows before of the white latticework blossom-draped gazebo under which the young couple will take their vows, and in intimate corners of the emerald-green expanse of grass are flotillas of more heavy-linen’d round tables with flowers and ferns fastened hither and thither to gather up the layers of table skirts and fresh blossoms in quaint little Mrrtha Stywrrt pots with scripted place-cards serving as centerpieces and there’re huge gleaming glass globes with unlit white candles on tables and in trendy wrought-iron stands and holders and everywhere you look there are flowering bowers tied up with ribbon garlands and topiaries and dwarf lemon and apple trees in full bloom scattered about artfully and this is hardly your run-of-the-mill backyard wedding, oh no, this is Beverly Hills! And in the kitchen, if things were hectic yesterday, then today it’s total mayhem as Ethnic Okay caterers scramble to arrange scallops wrapped in bacon and unusual finger sandwiches with herb fillings and fruitas de mer and phyllo puffs and stuffed endive and crudités and an international collection of cheeses and all sorts of nifty trendy little bits and nibbles and noshes all garnished and sprinkled and scattered and delicately-flanked-by and arranged just so on silver serving trays.

And then we are upstairs in Brandon’s Bedroom, where Brandon “The Cult of Personality” Walsh is sound asleep and there’s a knock at the door and it’s Stevie “Killer Queen” Sanders bringing his “good buddy” breakfast in bed (*snarf*) on a tray with a stack of toast and product-placed Sunny Delite and tub of I-Can’t-Believe-It’s-Not-Butter and Dr. Pepper and whatever because it’s Brandon’s “last meal as a single man” in the Oh-So-Stereotypical equating-marriage-with-a-jail/death-sentence that Our Culture at Large subscribes to. And Stevie’s saying “Are you nervous?” and Brandon’s saying all pompous “Not at all. Kelly and I’ve known we’d get married for a long time, my man” and Stevie’s saying all sincere that “You know I’ve always loved Kelly, but... I mean it, I’m really happy for you guys. You’re my best friend, Brandon” and Brandon’s being all obnoxious and saying “you too, man... C’mere!” and doing that horrific big-smacking-kiss on Stevie’s face that’s supposed to make us think that they’re really good friends who aren’t afraid of showing their feelings in that over-the-top total-overly-sensitive-man way but it looks like they “doth protest too much” or something in order to cover up their deep lust for each other and we suspect that they’re prolly gonna tear off a quick one before Brandon has to go get married.

And then we are at the Spineless Women Beach House, and Donna’s peeking in Kelly’s Rose-Colored Bedroom door and caroling “Happy is the bride the sun shines on!” as she opens Kelly’s shades to let the Wedding Morning Sunshine stream in. And Kelly “Blushing Bride” Taylor is stirring and blinking and saying “I can’t believe I actually managed to sleep last night!” and Donna says “C’mon, I have a special breakfast all ready for you before we have to leave for the salon to get your hair done” and Kelly squeals “Breakfast? I can’t even think of eating breakfast! Do you realize today’s my wedding day?” and she and Donna squeal and giggle and hug and doingy-doingy about. But then, comically, Donna bumps into the wardrobe that Kelly’s wedding dress is hanging from and knocks it down. “Ooops!” she exclaims, scrambling to pick it up and get it re-hung and displaying her gaping spherical pendulous firmly-upright breasts lurching out of her cotton camisole. “I hope that wasn’t a bad omen.” “Don’t be silly,” says Kelly in her pink satin pajamas and matching bathrobe as they giggle some more and then go off to have fresh-squeezed juice and tofu scramble or whatever it is that Donna’s ostensibly fixed.

Scene: Brinda’s apartment. Brinda, hugely pregnant, is watching a Lamaze video or something and practicing breathing exercises when there is a knock at the door. Lumbering to her feet, she opens it and there, in grubby jeans, a flannel shirt, and her curly hair held back with a headband, is Ohndrea Zuckerman, holding a pigtailed rugrat that can only be Hannah. “Ohndrea!” exclaims Brinda. “What’re you doing here?”

And Ohndrea is smiling. “Today’s moving day,” she says. “Valerie rented me the apartment two doors down from you. As of today, we’re officially neighbors.”

“That’s great... but what about... aren’t you going to the wedding today?”

Ohndrea makes a face. “Brenda, after the things Brandon and Kelly have said and done lately, the last place I want to be is at their wedding.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

And Brinda blinks back a tear. “Do you need any help?”

“No,” says Ohndrea, “but I’d love some company.”

And Brinda smiles and says “You bet!” and they hug and sniffle and bond and stuff.

Okay. Scene: The Mister’s oh-so-foreboding office. Tony Marchette is sitting before the Big Man’s great expanse of a desk, looking subdued. The thousands of TV sets are still flickering ominously, some showing re-runs, but most simply black-and-white scrambled dots. The figure in the wing-backed office chair behind the desk is obscured, turned to look out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the smoggy, murky “city of the angels”....

“... I need a new show, a new concept...” he is musing. “Everything else has been done before.”

Marchette is composed, but just barely; his crocodile-eyes betray his nervousness. “What about a reunion of-”

“It’s been done,” says The Mister shortly.

“... or a... perhaps a new version of a favorite old show, like Love Boat or Fantasy-”

“No. No. Horrible idea. It would be cancelled in a matter of weeks.” The office chair creaks. “And that is not what I want to do,” insists The Mister. “But...” he continues significantly, “I have had an idea of a new concept... something so incredible... something that’s never been done before....”

Tony Marchette watches the back of the office chair, waiting.

“It could be a life... a day-to-day twenty-four/seven life of one special individual, following him from the birth through every kind of milestone. The audience would grow up with him. We’d see him crawl, learn to speak, learn to walk. We’d see him start school, play, make friends. We’d see him fall in love, marry, and even have a family of his own.”

“It sounds extraordinary-” Marchette begins, but The Mister is on a roll.

“No, you don’t understand the sheer magnitude! This would be the biggest production ever... I’d have to purchase a small town to use as the set... I’d have to hire literally thousands of actors... but it would be the most immense production of all kind! There’s only one thing I need....”

“What is that?” queries Tony Marchette.

The desk chair swivels, and there, dwarfed by deep red leather, is a Troll of a man, who leans forward intently, his protruding frog-like eyes wide. “If only I could find a soon-to-be-born baby... why, I could begin broadcasting immediately!”

“A... baby,” stammers Marchette, with an audible gulp.

And with that, we cut to commercials. Should we have popcorn? No, no, it’s okay, I’ll make it while I’m up....

So we return from commercials for toilet paper and cleaning products to discover we are viewing the late-afternoon pre-wedding happenings through the eye of Davy Silver’s video camera. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Davy is narrating, “you’ve heard it said that ‘today is the first day of the rest of your lives [sic]’ but it couldn’t be more true for Brandon and Kelly than today,” as the camera shows Jim and Cindy, dressed to the nines, greeting Nat and Joanie with big hugs, while a string quartet is playing Tastefully in the background and people mill about and several of the white folding chairs are already taken by pastel-suited women and tuxedo-clad men. Davy swings the camera around, panning over the spraying champagne fountain and hanging cages of twittering lovebirds and the Ethnic Okay person walking by bearing a basket full of the little white chocolate swans with hand-lettered cards that are apparently wedding favors. “Wedding festivities are in full swing at Casa Walsh,” continues Davy as we move in through the dining room, now completely transformed by candle sconces and flowers and ice-sculptures displaying mounds of caviar and oodles of fresh fruits on the serving table and through to the foyer where we get a from-behind (no comment!) shot of someone signing the guest book on the little table and Davy says “That looks like the Best Man Steve Sanders,” and Stevie straightens up so we can see he’s all decked out in one of his really super-trendy tuxes with the ultra-queeny white collarless silk shirt and wrap-around non-bow black tie and noxiously-printed vest and Stevie’s mugging for the camera like the Monkey Boy that he is and thankfully Davy doesn’t linger long on Stevie because the front door is opening and he’s saying “And here’s Joy Taylor, one of the bridesmaids and sister of the bride” and Joy’s dressed in jeans but has her hair done up in a French knot and is carrying with her a dress bag containing her pale pink Donna Martin Original and she smiles and waves at the camera then gestures upstairs, like, to make the point that that is where she’s going and, thus, where the bride and her cohorts must be, so Davy and his camera troop after.

So. Upstairs at Casa Walsh, Valerie’s bedroom (Valerie long gone, natch) has been transformed into the Bridal Dressing Room. The bed is covered with tissue and department-store boxes and stockings and bouquets and Kelly’s veil is spread out there, and there’s a huge antique cheval-glass full-length mirror that never used to be there but has to be now because... yes, posed in front of it is Kelly Taylor, all Brided to the hilt in her boring white Vera Wangy A-line gown with her shimmery vanilla-blonde hair done up in All Those Curls and her make-up done to Dewy Bride Perfection with glossy pink rosebud lips and Kelly Taylored raccoon eyeliner ringing her eyes and there’s Little Erin in her flower girl get-up and there’s Donna in her Donna Martin Original Bridesmaid gown and....okay, it’s this, um... pale lilac pink... sheath, I guess... with a silk-organza skirt that has been, ah, appliquéd with a floral pattern and, well, uh... trimmed with little lace butterflies in clusters (which, no lie, is actually something I saw in a bridal magazine, and instantly thought of Donna), and Donna’s maroon hair is all done up in that Horrific Chaos Curl ‘do with little butterflies pinned in it. And Davy the Narrator says “Wow! Here’s our gorgeous bride Kelly Taylor and her gorgeous Maid of Honor Donna Martin” and then we are no longer looking through the camera as Joy shoos Davy away saying “I have to change” and Davy making penis-boy remarks about staying to film that, too. And Mother of the Bride Jackie Taylor is fondly saying “David!” and they close the door before returning to Sentimental Reverie.

“It’s almost time,” says Jackie in her Mother of the Bride suit and hat and huge corsage that looks like it used to be part of a small hedge.

“I know,” baby-talks Kelly, still staring dreamily at her reflection.

“Let’s get your veil pinned on,” suggests Donna.

“Yes,” baby-talks Kelly as Jackie drapes and adjusts the delicate folds around Kelly’s face while Donna kneels to arrange the streaming tulle and the train of Kelly’s gown (I can’t ever get that picture out of my mind of Donna squatting in that Blue Nightmare with the slit up to *there* from the Non-Wedding Wedding with her slip showing....) And then Joy who has managed to swiftly and off-camera change into her matching appliquéd and butterflied BM Gown says “Do you have something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue?” and Kelly, suddenly panicked, squeaks in the negative and Donna says “Don’t worry, I have a new blue garter for you” and she takes it out of one of the bags on the bed and we get the Leg Cam/French Manicure shot of Donna putting it on Kelly and then Jackie says “I have something old” and takes out a strand of pearls from her bag, fastening them around Kelly’s neck saying “these were given to your grandmother by her mother on the day she married your grandfather... now I’m giving them to you” and Kelly and Jackie sniffle and then Joy says “what about something borrowed?” and little Erin pipes up “I’ll lend you my charm bracelet, Kelly,” and so Kelly clasps Erin’s little gold dangly-heart bracelet around her own wrist and sighs winsomely that she’s “all set” like no one ever plans ahead of time what the old/new/borrowed/blue stuff is going to be so they can instead have this whole little ritual two minutes before the wedding? I knew that I’d wear the pearl on a fine gold chain that my grandpa gave me when I was only 8 as “something old.” I borrowed my grandma’s wedding ring, which was not only special because she and my grandpa had had such a happy marriage together, but because she took it off when he died and no one had worn it since. And the something blue, well... I had the Only Professional Pedicure of My Life, and had my toenails painted blue. Dark blue. That counts, right? Anyway, so Kelly sighs “I guess I’m all set” and Jackie says “I’ll go find out when your father’s coming up to escort you” and Joy says “are you nervous?” and Kelly says “a little... it’s such a big deal, you know?” and Donna says “at least nothing’s gone wrong today” as she takes a step and Kelly takes a step and Donna’s standing on Kelly’s veil and there’s a loud ripping sound and Donna does her Great Big Comedic Face of Great Horror when she realizes what’s happened.

So downstairs, there’s Brandon “Der Forehead” Walsh, stiffer than usual in his Groomal Finery, accompanied by Steve “Scooby” Sanders and David “Shaggy” Silver in their Groomsmen tuxes, except Stevie’s is the aforementioned Queeny Version and Davy’s is the Homie Version, four sizes too big, and accessorized with his dog-chain necklace and big skull ring and satanic facial hair and the quartet is playing “Pachabel’s Canon” as the Boyz stand off to the side on the patio and survey the Casa Walsh backyard all filled with people and everything’s ready to go as Jim and Cindy come over and Jim says “How’re you doing, son?” and Cindy’s sniffling and dabbing her eyes and Brandon is super-pompous and says “Fine. Great. Nothing to it” because this wedding stuff is No Biggie and it’s only the girlies who get all emotional about it and Cindy gives Brandon a kiss on the cheek and says “I know you two are going to be so happy” and Jimbo shakes Brandon’s hand and claps him on the shoulder and then the minister comes up to the whole little group and says “Are we almost ready?” and Brandon says “Yes we are” and Cindy takes Jim’s arm and Brandon takes a big breath and Jim escorts a tearful Cindy to her seat and then the Boyz file up the side aisle to wait for Kelly’s Big Entrance, Brandon Furrowed ‘cos this is a Serious Moment, and Stevie and Davy nudging him like good buddies do as a tranquil air settles over the gathering.

Upstairs, of course, the mood is anything but tranquil as Donna is Like, Freaking Out, Totally and Joy and Kelly are twittering about the rent in Kelly’s veil and Kelly’s squeaking “What am I going to do-o-o the wedding’s about to start-” and there’s a knock at the door and Kelly’s dad calls “Are you ready sweetheart?” and Donna barks “NO!” because this is supposed to be funny and she scrambles and clodhops and says “you could tie it in a knot?” first demonstrating then immediately discarding that idea and then pounces on the pile of stuff on the bed and unearths a pair of scissors and in one deft movement, cuts the long part of the veil with the hole off, leaving Kelly with a drifty fingertip-length one instead and Joy sighs “perfect!” and Kelly sighs “perfect!” and Donna heaves a sigh of relief because she’s managed to Save the Day and Kelly’s daddy opens the door and Beholds his daughter all ready and does the requisite “you look like a princess.... My little girl, all grown up” bullshit and pulls Kelly’s face veil over in front of her face while Donna and Joy and Erin take up their flowers and Kelly’s daddy says “Let’s hit it, ladies” and off they go....

Should I cut to commercial now?

*diabolical giggling*

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