By May, the LWOOE boards at Mediarama were getting a little wild. One-time posters were showing up to hijack an episode with badly-written sex scenes. Someone tried impersonating betty boop. Someone else axe-murdered Brinda. No one could spell or punctuate anything. But we eventually distilled the multiple and strange plot threads back into one (mostly by way of the “actually, that was just a nightmare” plot device so familiar to The Mister Spelling), with the regulars contributing in earnest.
And I, naturally, took the ball and ran with it. Soon, I had pages of word docs with outlines and bulleted plot points, cryptic notes scribbled on scraps of papers…. Shame? WHAT shame?!
Insert tongue firmly in cheek, and enjoy:
The Gratuitous Dwanollah Episodes
Okay, so the papers are all done. I deserve a little fun. I realize that the thread has been moving along nicely with the help of numerous talented Boardsters, and I realize I’m, like, 10 steps behind, but don’t we gotta have some confusion and inconstancy to make it authentically 90210? So if I end up backpedaling over your contributions or rewriting a scene, please, understand it is not a reflection on you or your writing skills. Rather, it is my attempt, like Jason Priestly, to be in total control, put my artistic stamp on every aspect of this category, and make sure that my viewpoint is rammed down everyone’s throat effectively. So please, grant me this self-indulgent and narcissistic privilege...
Thus, I give you:
9021Uh-Oh: The Gratuitous Dwanollah Episode
RECAP: Last week, on 9021Uh-Oh:
- Brenda returns to her old zip code, with child and sans Dylan!
- Dylan boards a plane for LA, but is waylaid by his old nemesis, Tony Marchette.
- Donna starts a new line of designs for a big client... Little Bit of Fetish, headed by the oh-so-powerful (and oh-so-swishy) Devon Dean (who has also taken a shine to David).
- Terruh aka “Kara” returns to Hillsterland in search of one Kelly Taylor, and has hooked up with His Overtness of Penisness, Steve.
- Valerie has finally received her lawsuit settlement money from Noah, who, poor baby, has had to sell the PPAD.
- Noah, lacking a job, has been taken in hand by Brandon Walsh, Ace Reporter, who is determined to make the Beverly Beat Me Senseless a Pyew-litzer Prizewinning paper yet.
- The PPAD has been sold to Skeev- um, Steve, who, with the help of his fellow OPBs (and his royal Queeniness Devon Dean), is set to turn LA’s hottest nightclub into LA’s hottest strip club.
- Brenda, pregnant and distraught, has been having severe bouts of depression and nightmarish hallucinations and panic attacks.
First, a plethora of jerky over-edited opening credit shots (Director: Dwanollah... Producer: Dwanollah... Creator: Dwanollah.... Based on a Screenplay by: Dwanollah....)
Then, opening scene: Casa Walsh, Brinda’s old/Valerie’s new bedroom. Brenda is sitting on the fold-out cot clutching Mr. Pony, and Cindy Walsh is standing over her, shaking her head. “You were always irresponsible, Brenda... we knew that.... But how could even you let this happen?” Next, Big Jim steps up. “We trusted you, Brenda, and you let us down. Why can’t you be more like Brandon? You don’t see him unwed and pregnant, do you?”
“He’s right, Brenda,” says Stuart Carson, her old fiancé, “if you had married me, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”
“Stuart, we weren’t ready to get married, and you turned out to be a controlling immature jerk-“
“Such a pity... she had so much potential,” says Mrs. Teasley, shaking her head.
“You should’ve stayed in Minnesota, Brenda,” says Darla.
Brenda’s eyes are filling with tears. Coming through the bathroom door are her friends, her real friends... Kelly, Brandon, Donna, Steve, David... “You guys, tell them! I tried, but Dylan-”
“You always blame Dylan,” says Brandon.
“You know your relationship with him was wrong,” adds Kelly.
“That’s not true! You’re just saying that because he left you!”
“You slut,” hisses Donna, her arms crossed over her pendulous boobs.
“Even I wouldn’t sleep with you, Brenda,” says Steve, shaking his head. “That’s right, man,” says David, and they do that serious-high-five/finger-snap.
“You got what you deserved. You got what you deserved.” Emily Valentine is chanting. “You trusted someone you knew was untrustworthy... just like I did... and you got hurt. That’s what you get.”
The other Hillsters are moving in closer, and all of them have hockey pucks. With deliberate cruelty, they begin swinging them at Brenda’s stomach. Brenda screams-
-and of course wakes up in a sweat, in her bedroom at Casa Walsh.
“Brenda, are you okay?” asks Valerie sleepily.
Brenda stares at her, her arms around her round belly, those special-effect echoy sounds still pulsating in her head... drawing focus to the fact that Valerie was the only Hillster absent from her dream. “Yeah... yeah, I’m fine. Bad dream.”
“You want me to get you anything?”
Brenda is rocking back and forth, trying to stay calm. “Could you... could you hand me that stuffed pony over on those shelves?”
Valerie looks at her strangely. “Okay, if that’s what you want.” She retrieves Mr. Pony for Brenda, who clutches him, cradled in her arms like a baby, and finally breaks down in tears.
Cut to Casa Walsh Kitchen.
Noah is sitting at the computer, pecking away at the keys with slow deliberation. Steve has construction plans spread out all over the table, and he and David are studying them. Brandon is reading the paper while Kelly, with her weirdly black fingernail polish, pours him coffee.
“I’m telling you, man, if we put three stages with poles scattered around the club, we can— ”
“Morning, guys,” says Val, going for the fridge.
The gathered Hillsters grunt back, except for Brandon, who, in his “Johnny, tell them what they’ve won” voice, says “And how are you this morning, Val? Did you sleep well?”
“Better than the last week. I guess Steve’s new girlfriend didn’t come over last night, huh?”
Steve makes Skeevy Faces. “No, she had an appointment or something. Man, it’s gonna take me more than one night to recover.... Hey, where is the first aid kit? I’ve got these nail scratches-”
“So when do we finally get to meet her?” asks David.
“Soon. I’m inviting her to dinner.”
Kelly hands Brandon his coffee, and he responds with a lofty “Thanks, babe.”
“Actually, you guys, I still had trouble sleeping-“
“Brenda snoring?” says Brandon, which makes Catty Kelly give a soggy little giggle and exclaim “ Brandon!”
Val hitches herself up on the counter. “No. She’s been having nightmares, bad ones. She wakes up a couple times a night in a panic, and she cries in her sleep.”
Kelly purses her lips. “Well, that’s what happens when you’re pregnant. I read about it in a pamphlet at the clinic.”
“Hey, this is serious,” says Val.
“No, what’s serious are these plans to remodel the PPAD,” says David.
Val opens her mouth again, but is interrupted by Noah, who has been working steadily at the computer. “Hey, B., you wanna read my editorial now. It’s done.”
“Sure, buddy.” Brandon goes over to the computer and leans over Noah’s shoulder... unnecessarily close, of course. “Okay... ‘What I did on my summer vacation’...? ... Uh.... yeah, man, it looks great. It’ll be in today’s edition.”
“Hey, thanks, B. Thanks a lot.” And Brandon and Noah engage in the High Five Manly Ritual.
But Kelly is still watching Valerie. “Has Brenda said anything about it?”
“No, not even when I ask her. She just keeps saying she’s fine, everything’s all right.”
Brandon, as the Leader, says “Maybe we should try to get a hold of Dylan-”
“No!” Kelly says. “I mean, Brenda wouldn’t want us to.”
“Then what should we do?” challenges Brandon.
The Hillsters all look at each other bemusedly for a few seconds. Then Steve and David return to their plans, Noah to the computer, Brandon to the paper, and Kelly to herself.
Cut to a brightly-tiled Mexican café. Dylan and Marchette are sitting at a table, the number of bottles and glasses stacked around them attesting to the fact that they have been here a long time.
Dylan is holding the picture of Toni; Marchette has the other two photographs. “. . . and I never would’ve been with Brenda if Toni was still alive. I guess Brenda was just an old habit.”
“And what about Kelly? Did you love her as much as my daughter?”
“. . . I thought Kelly and I were soulmates. Then I met Toni. I found out I was wrong about a lot of things.” Dylan grips his head with his hands, knocking over a couple bottles in the process. “Dammit! Why did she have to die? Why couldn’t you let us be happy together? She was my life-”
When Dylan’s voice breaks, Marchette pats him on the shoulder. “Shhh... shhh. Dylan, not a day goes by that I don’t condemn myself for what I’ve done. Not a day goes by that I don’t look back with regret at what might have been. I can’t tell you how much I’ve suffered-”
“You’ve suffered, man? You? What about me? I lost my wife! I lost my father! I lost everything because of you!”
“Dylan, Dylan, I deserve your hatred. I deserve nothing but your scorn. Antonia was all I had left in the world, and I destroyed it. I could have been a grandfather by now-”
Dylan ignores Marchette, still doing the head-gripping thing. “I don’t know where my sister Erica is... my mother won’t talk to me anymore.... My life is nothing. Nothing.”
“... I have millions of dollars, millions, and it means nothing without my daughter, without my family. Dylan, I’d like to make you an offer...”
Dylan raises his head suspiciously.
“I know nothing can bring Antonia back. But maybe we can put some pieces back together. There is so much you don’t know... so much I have to tell you....”
“What are you talking about?”
“Dylan” (Marchette is awfully fond of repeating Dylan’s name) “I’m a very wealthy man-”
“I don’t want your money,” growls Dylan, all Eastwoodesque.
“-and I’m a very powerful man. You know that. Your father told you, didn’t he? . . . Didn’t he?”
“Jake McKay never told you the truth about your real father, did he?”
“He told me enough! You killed him!”
“No, Dylan. I am your father.”
Cut to first batch of commercials.... Stay tuned.... more to come in a few....