This Week in Milford

February 17, 2021

All About Shoes

Hey kids! Today you’re gonna get an installment of teenchy’s True Life Stories!

Back in the day when dinosaurs roamed the earth your old pal teenchy drove a ’66 Ford Mustang. These days ’66 Mustangs are considered classics almost on a par with Doug Guthrie’s GTO, but when I owned one it was a just a nice used car. While I was away at college I had a minor fender bender with it, requiring the replacement of the left front fender, the front bumper, and a headlight bulb. Not long after the repairs were done I drove back home to see the folks and let them see how well the repairs had been done. I brought a friend with me and that Saturday night we barhopped. On the way back home, much like ol’ Doug here, I saw the flashing blue lights behind me; unlike Doug, I thought I might be spending the night somewhere other than in my own bed.

Instead of “License and registration, please,” the first words the state trooper drawled to me were “Son, who painted yer car?” Stunned, I asked him to repeat himself, whereupon he proceeded to admire my Mustang’s paint job and its overall condition. I sheepishly admitted to the recent accident and repair and told him the name of the shop that had done the work. The trooper replied, “Well, they did a nice job, but I believe they forgot to hook up yer headlight when they finished up. I’m giving yew a warning and telling yew to hook them wires back up when it gets daylight in the mornin’. Yew’l see my name and badge number on that warning; if yew ever want to sell this car call the barracks and ask for me.”

Sure enough, the next morning I popped the hood and saw the left headlight connector and wiring harness dangling on the inner fender just below the sealed beam unit. I eventually sold the ‘stang but I never did call that trooper, though.

I’m guessing Doug’s having a similar experience with old Officer Wilbon here, but I’m a little confused about the tires comment. The Flowmasters probably let the Tri-Power 389 breathe a bit better but top end is as much a function of gearing as it is of horsepower. Doug might be implying that if the Goat were to run a little faster, he might have to replace its shoes with a set having a higher speed rating. Finding tires in the correct size for older cars is getting harder and more expensive by the day as manufacturers focus production on higher-volume sizes for current models. How that factors into Doug’s decision isn’t clear, and neither we nor Tom Muench have time for that, so off we go to Milford High and hoops practice.

Sorry for rambling on about my youth and the vagaries of classic car tires, but I figure it had to be at least as interesting as watching Tom and Doug awkwardly run laps for being late to practice. (Doug was so distracted he put his sneakers on the wrong feet.) Gil must take comfort knowing the hardwood is one place Clan Guthrie doesn’t lord it over him.

October 31, 2020

Corina’s Shakin’, Not Stirred

Boy, Central pretty much sucks at everything this season, don’t they? Too bad we didn’t see how badly they sucked at volleyball. Then again we haven’t seen much more volleyball action than Rapp has – just that one panel about a month ago. We should get to see some more soon, though, since Corina has made that a prerequisite to getting down the base path with her.

That is Corina, isn’t it? The coarsening of her profile in P1 looks like a throwback to Berrill’s style and that’s not her usual mullet she’s wearing, either. Next panel she looks like a completely different person as she has a seizure describing Becca’s performance against Central. Finally all hairs are back in place as Rapp hates to see her leave but loves to watch her go.

Now it’s a matter of time to see which of the dueling QBs shows his face first at a Lady Mudlarks volleyball match. I’ll laugh if it ends up being Leonard Fleming. Heaven knows we need a good laugh right about now. Hope you TWIMers had a fun and safe Halloween, shook one, not stirred one, in Sean Connery’s memory, and remember to turn your clocks back before you turn in tonight.

August 21, 2020

Wasted on the way

Filed under: boring memories, Maureen, Milford Alumni, Milford Weirdos, oversize objects — robmize2013 @ 8:23 pm

First thanks to teenchy for filling in for me during my vacation – this time to Portland Maine. Very scenic; anytime you can go near an ocean it adds to the views tenfold. Even had a shark out there; (well, 80 miles north but whats that to a shark?) I think he was looking for me in Myrtle Beach and heard I was coming back to the ocean, so he swam north. Hey- maybe he can make a cameo in this strip and swallow these characters. He’s way smarter then any of them.

I dont play frisbee very often but I normally try to catch it with one hand, or at least hold my hands CLOSER TOGETHER then this dude. He looks like he’s describing the mouth of the shark he saw in these waters.

No idea how Alexa knows Corrina so well she can describe all her qualities already..

and we’re back to when CK was 9 again. For perspective, that was only about 7 or 8 years ago. I think a summer storyline should be more cheery then this morose tale that is dragging us down like the muck on their feet slowly sinking them into the lake, until all we see is Corinna’s hat floating on the water.

Even the shark is above this dreck.

**METAPOST** Im apparently still on vacation because I copied the strip from Wednesday instead of today. I just replaced it with the correct strip but my commentary is from the Wednesday strip. Today its Maureen getting her nose in everything but the gravy boat at the buffet table. CK visits True for another practice session and True invites her to follow him to his moms house. Too hard to just call her on a cell phone huh? Hey- call Maureen and order a cheeseburger– the carrier pigeon can deliver it.

August 19, 2020

Plan 9 from Town Park Lake

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Greetings, my friend. We are all interested in the future, for that is where you and I are going to spend the rest of our lives. And remember, my friend, future events such as these will affect you in the future. You are interested in the unknown, the mysterious, the unexplainable. That is why you are here. And now, for the first time, we are bringing to you the full story of what happened on that fateful day. 

Today we find Corina, Alexa and Phoebe have pushed up their pedal pushers, waded into Town Park Lake, and stumbled into the shooting of a remake of Plan 9 from Outer Space. A perfect backdrop for the backstory of how Corina became so incorrigible. Alexa continues interviewing her replacement as Pheeb’s BFF her hard line of questioning, and quickly finds a crack in Corina’s armor. None of the authority figures in Corina’s younger life listened to her when she tried to tell them something was wrong with mommy, so now Corina won’t listen to any of the authority figures in her current life.

Okay, now that that’s settled, let’s move this plot forward. How deep into a pitcher of Long Island iced tea do you think Gil and True are at the MCC’s 19th hole?

At least Corina didn’t call Alexa Phoebe’s sidekick.

July 22, 2020

Les Expos(ition) sont là, part deux

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Called it! Well, kinda sorta, except for the wearing one’s employer’s uniform in public part.

Phoebe has a habit of pointing at everything and everybody a lot, even by Milford standards, so pointing to the diner door to call out True seems a bit belabored. Corinna’s words say “big whoop” but her rapidly swelling hands say otherwise. Careful, Ms. Karenina: sassy, athletic girls who get involved with True come to bad ends.

Corrina’s zinger in P2 pretty much sums up every summer Gil Thorp arc ever and, in a more normal world, should’ve been today’s post title. But nothing is normal these days. Major League Baseball is getting ready to kick off its regular season tomorrow evening, with a 60-game schedule, new rules straight out of the sandlot, and no fans in the stands. Anything and everything that happens in the game this season will be forever tagged with the mother of all asterisks. Besides, it also gives me an excuse to post this, again, something that every wise NL East scoreboard operator should play when the Nats come to town:

Now let’s sit back for the rest of the week and wait for True to explain how he went from being Wake Forest’s QB of the future to a potential future playing in front of sparse crowds in the worst stadium in the majors, and somehow giving Gil credit for it.

March 19, 2020

A Good Samaritan Gone Bad.

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WHAT???? We went through all through this investigation and even by-passed Alexa’s development as a scoring machine down low and Chris’ development in just any category, you name it, only to find out that Teddy Blue planted a whoopee cushion to this plot because Dagwood walked on the other side of the street when Elmo got wedgied by Wee Pals and headed onto Midnight Handicap Bowling Night at Milford Lanes? Say it ain’t so.

Lesson Number One in how never to conduct a treasure hunt. We went to the Milford Public Library and went to the microfiche of all the National Geographic’s (“Milford at a Crossroads: Perspectives and Possibilities”) and the Special Collections to skip over the newspaper articles that showed pictures of Gil actually coaching (Ansel Adams shot it and put it in a scrapbook next to his pictures of Yosemite Valley) then went through Dr. Pearl’s office to see if she was still on the oxygen machine like she’s been inhaling for the last 2 centuries (gettin’ up there in years) and when she could still file away School Lunch Menus for the Month of May, we figured she could maneuver manila folders and use her lungs at the same time, then went through the girls gym where Mimi taught about life and grade point averages and taught Alexa that if you don’t score, you’ll flunk out and life will suck and you’ll wind up in Skid Row where all the other Valedictorians went who got straight A’s but refused to shoot lay-ups go for Purgatory only to learn that Teddy has a severe dearth of furniture and a chip on his shoulder. Talk about going back to square one.

“Teddy, if you want, I can call The Salvation Army and the truck should have the divan delivered by this afternoon, my treat. No hard feelings?”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Donates 1.5 Million Dollars Worth Of Neo-Georgian Living Room Suite Collectibles To Local Neighbor!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I was going to throw it out anyway. Judge Ito sat in the same love seat that Aaron Burr lounged on when we were going over case briefs. Comes with an ottoman.”

 

And as Teenchy mentioned, we’re leapfrogging several episodes, presumably due to baseball and softball suddenly springing on the horizon. Not that much justice will be done to those either but let’s get through this 1 scene, skip several scenes, backtrack a scene, come back to a scene among those several scenes, take a smoke break, another scene, insert a few “meanwhile”‘s along the way in case anybody’s awake (“Meanwhile in Dr. Pearl’s office where she’s spraying Raid on the Science Lab Delivery Invoices”) , divert to the Milford Barber Shop where Gil is investigating Chris’ Kindergarten transcript for any discrepancies in his Spelling Aptitude Test scores while getting a trim and a shave, endure a couple of leftover “meanwhile”‘s (“Meanwhile, at Milford General where Mimi is getting her leg amputated after dropping a bowling ball on her foot”) , watch the last scene ride off into the sunset with Gil riding Trigger and Teddy enjoying the coffee table that Chris recovered from the Wednesday Garbage Day bin and let’s FINALLY get to Spring sports. Don’t ask me to repeat that.

 

“Pop, I found the rake next to the pile of mimeographed sheets of the SAT Answer Code. We’ll nail Teddy for sure, isn’t that right, Birmingham?”

“That most certainly is. And Mr. Chan, I saw Teddy using that rake to filter the dandruff out of his Mohawk, sho’ nuff. We’ll get him for a misdemeanor anyway. Pilfered bookstore items, if nuthin’ else.”

“#2 Son and Birmingham, there’s an ancient Chinese proverb that says ‘When the plot has ended, go check if Gil’s babysitter is still watching the kids’. Now come, let’s let Teddy drown in his Vidal Sassoon Extra Moisturizer Formula and let us partake of a well-earned rest down at The Bucket. We could stand some Bucket Steamed Split Peas.”

 

If ya git a recliner delivered in a 4-wheel drive straight ta yore livin’ room after yore other recliner pooped out from all the butt-scratchin’ from you and yore bloodhounds while ya wuz watchin’ ESPN College Football Gameday ever’ Saturday and ya donate THAT piece uv furniture ta yore neighbor so that he has a place ta put his tool box on so that his tools don’t git greasy from all the dirt on the floor, ya might be a redneck.

 

Pebbles comes over to Bam Bam’s house a week after Bam Bam got due processed from Bedrock Elementary for sticking a dead pterodactyl in her desk while she was up front singing “God Bless America” in front of the class

“Bam Bam, I just want to let you no that I still like you and even though they had to fumigate my desk, the silver lining was they sent that dead pterodactyl to the Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage plant in the Sage Sausage Processing Department.”

“Pebbles, I have always resented you. When I was trying to turn the hose on Dino and that saber-toothed cat that dumps your dad outside at the end of the show, you sent the Mau Maus after me because you were protesting animal cruelty.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Bam Bam-”

“And when your dad used a handgun on my mom’s bird that got the wheels turning on the iron so that my mom could iron my tunic, that was a low blow. Just because that bird told Fred that Wilma got poached brontosaurus eggs at fire sale prices from the Bedrock milkman, well, your dad can dish it out but he can’t take it. It took 4 days of clubbin’ that pterodactyl but if it meant watching you sing “God Bless America” like Captain Beefheart, it was worth it.”

“And I want to make it up to you. My dad is coming over later to deliver that cot to your living room. He slept on it when he was in the Bedford Army National Guard. You will be home, won’t you?”

 

I think it’s important to be a good citizen and support my local neighborhood association. Still, I’m a little befuddled to read about some chickens that were running loose in the streets when I’m not really near any significant farm

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage Plant Fined $1.3 Million Dollars By EPA After Yorkshire Escapes!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Spokesperson at the plant noted that hog ran from Animal Testing Lab into Grease Monkey parking lot and contaminated the asphalt with multiple droppings.”

 

Birmingham Brown in front of the Milford High School Girls Gym, standing by the car, waiting for Charlie Chan and his son

“Boy, I sure hope Mr. Chan is okay. Man, ol’ Alexa was a walking time bomb. When his son told Mimi that instructing Alexa to pretend like she was shooting aTexas Instrument TI-89 calculator was an absurdity, I thought Gil was going to knock him on the floor for a 3-count. Thank God, I’m safe out here. Lord, I’d hate to see how dangerous he can be when he’s doing any coaching. I’ll turn in my resignation to Mr. Chan.”

Charlie Chan and his son come out of the gym

“You were right, Pop. There wasn’t any activity going on. I had a hunch that the Spalding semi with all the basketballs by the Milford Truck Stop was headed towards the Milford YMCA Campground. When he was downing a burrito, that sealed it.”

“Ya mean, I waited for you for 3 months shakin’ in my shoes only to find out THERE WAS NUTHIN’ GOIN’ ON?????”

“Birmingham, I learned from Confucius that man who sees another man with a catcher’s mitt and a volleyball in front of the pavilion should not assume that man is waiting for the 3-man officiating crew. Now, #2 son, I assume you have some Certs in your pocket. Your breath is beginning to smell like Gil’s locker at the Milford Athletic Club.”

 

I am a HUGE comic strip buff and one of my favorites is Gasoline Alley. They have been up and running for over a century and deservedly so. Frank King, the original artist, designed his backgrounds in his strips to resemble the rustic scenery of his native Wisconsin. Nice rolling hills and plenty of pastures graced the cityscape of Walter Wallet and his adopted son, Skeezix. With the seemingly ranch house conept in P3 in mind and pretending The Dells are behind the trees, Rufus and Joel show up

“Mornin’, Mr. Wallet.”

“Good morning, Joel. Good morning, Rufus.”

“Jus’ wanna le’ ya knows that if Betsy stepped inta yer ki’chen un’nvited, I’se sorry. Sumtimes ‘at mule’s gotta mind o’ its own.”

“Oh, that’s okay, Joel. We were able to save the pots and pans that were handed down from the 11th century. We had to throw out the crockery my ancestors took with them on The Mayflower. But we kept the butter churner.”

“Land sakes, tha’s good news. Rufus, you ‘n’ Melba git that box o’ ‘luminum plates off th’ wagon.”

“Yes’m”

“Rufus, I ain’t Melba. Tha’s wuss ‘n’ callin’ me Gil. Mr. Wallet, ’em plates we foun’ down by the crick. I understan’ Tiki ate off ’em when he wuz changin’ school distrikts. But I don’ think he’s returnin’ for dessert, so they’s all yorn.”

“Why, thank you, Joel. Looks like Rufus and Melba are experience trouble getting them off the wagon.”

“Rufus, you’s as worthless as this plot. Do I gotta util’ze Betsy ta tug ’em off?”

“I’s jest that the box is so he’vy, it’ll rip Melba’s skirt clean off. And we got kids ‘at read Gil an’ play bask’tball. Alexa didn’ shoo’ free t’rows ‘n’ her birt’day suit.”

“Rufus, don’ tell me th’ rules. Ya soun’ like Mimi when she’s eatin’ one o’ Melba’s possum biskits f’ breakfast. Han’ me th’ crowbar and git out o’ th’ way. Don’ worry, Mr. Wallet, we’ll git ’em dish’s off th’ wagon and ‘n’ yer livin’ room in a bit.”

“No problem, Joel. I have to go to town. I have to go pick up Skeezix from soccer practice. I’ll be back by the end of the baseball season. You’re welcome to the Lay’s Sour Cream Chips on the shag carpet in the living room. The Milford Steam-Vac guy  foamed the floor an hour ago so you should be good to go.”

“Much ‘bliged, Mr. Wallet. An’ me ‘n’ Rufus’ll git a coal shovel and git all th’ poop off the ki’chen tile. Sumtimes, Betsy’s also gotta butt o’ her own.”

 

“Birmingham!!!!!!!!!”

“Hey, Benjamin!!!!!!!!!!! Whatcha know?”

“Well, I heard that Gil-”

“You’re puttin’ me on. But didn’t Mimi-”

“Naw, the fire truck hosed it down. But-”

“You mean to tell me-”

“Yup, her kids tested negative at the clinic. They-”

“Wait a minute. I saw Gil with a shotgun-”

“Shootin’ mice in the gym-”

“Don’t blame him. Well, Ben, nice seeing you.”

“Same here, Birmingham.”

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry is Amy Grant. I have always loved her music and I really give her props for ability to write her own songs. She started out in the early ’80’s with hits like “El Shaddai” and “Angels”, then hit her stride later in the decade with her first #1 single, a duet with Peter Cetera (formerly with Chicago) performing “The Next Time I Fall.” She scored her second #1 single, “Baby Baby”, off her blockbuster album, “Heart in Motion.” A six-time Grammy winner, I have always admired her solid Christian life, one of the few I can honestly say (unfortunately) lives the Christian faith along with telling it. Amy, you did the right thing divorcing your first husband. Just because he said he was a Christian did not a Christian necessarily make. You seem A LOT happier now. Please join me in saluting a woman who has created a serious dent in the music industry and still loves Jesus. God bless you, Amy.

 

“We’ll be back to see if Charlie Chan gets the gym open again after he proved to the Milford School Board that years of neglect didn’t prove lack of interest after these messages. This is WDIG-TV.”

 

“Man, I have always liked Charlie Chan movies. Sippin’ a Bud on the couch with Mimi snoozin’ on my shoulder and watching “Charlie Chan Goes to Milford to Stop the Rioting”, well, only  a member of the Swedish Bikini Team would make that better.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp, speaking on behalf of Milford Beverage Warehouse. And, sakes alive, this Coronavirus scare is affecting the nation and I can understand. And people are looking for answers.

Our Booze and Toilets promo has been enhanced with the generous cooperation of Milford Plumbing Solutions. Many toilets are contaminated and health recovery can be hindered with such a contraption stuck like one great big wart in the bathroom.

That’s why The Warehouse is here to save the day and the nation. Bring in your enfant terrible and your Milford Beverage Warehouse credit card and with a purchase of Gallo Family Moscato 1.5 Liter, you can put your problem child on the dump truck and exchange it for a Broyhill Sani-Flush Futur-ama, problem solved. Shoot, for an extra bottle, they’ll even install it. I’m glad I don’t have to use plastic gloves when Jose Cuervo runs through my system and I gotta pee me a river.

And with a purchase of a Bud Light Platinum the 24-Pak, 12 ounce cans for pennies on the dollar, The Warehouse will send the cavalry out to unclog your john. Sometimes, Grandma comes over for St. Patrick’s Day dinner and her constipation seems to be contagious. Over-consumption of green cupcakes will do that. But not all toilets are victims of The Plague. They just need a gentle push and flushing is as easy as falling off a log. And if Milford Plumbing Solutions doesn’t unclog the toilet, you still keep the booze. You’ll get something before it’s all over.

And for you hypochondriacs out there, your worries are over. With a purchase of Jack Daniel’s Tennessee Whisky 750 ml for a price you potty-trained your dog with, Milford Plumbing Solutions and The Warehouse have financed free vaccinations through Milford Public Health Department to cope with the crisis. One shot in the arm and you’ll see Captain Morgan. Hope he’s got a shopping cart because the deals here at The Warehouse are no illusion. I’ll be lining up to go get my bottle.

Come down to The Warehouse and ditch that contaminated throne where it’ll be sent to Perdition, somewhere in the county. And walk out of The Warehouse with your grip on The Good Life. Tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

Gang, you mean the world to me. PLEASE, all kidding aside, follow the Center for Disease Control guidelines to the nth degree. Wash your hands. Cook THOROUGHLY. Maintain proper distance. Get fresh air and sunshine.  And the cleaner air, the better. Stay active but stay smart. AND if you suspect the symptoms of Coronavirus, DON’T HESITATE GET HELP IMMEDIATELY!!!!!!!!

We’re America, Gang. United we stand. Let’s stand together like we have in the past. It is how we got through in the past and how we’ll get through now. God bless you all.

 

“Well, Mr. Chan, looks we wrapped up another case. You stickin’ around for baseball?”

“I respectfully decline, Mr. Thorp. My grandfather once told me that ‘Man whose feet is stuck in the mud in the batter’s box will never get the benefit of the call from the umpires on a bang-bang play’. Come, Birmingham, take me home.”

 

At the Milford Beverage Warehouse in the vaccination line

“There you are. You’ll see your Maker before you know it, if not Evan Williams. Here, Dr. Pearl, don’t forget your coat and your bottle of Jack.”

 

 

March 14, 2020

“Mimi and I washed our hands. Here, Alexa, smell ’em.”

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Well, rob went there yesterday. I was beginning to wonder how long we at TWIM could go without making mention of the current global crisis, one that could end up making the crisis that gave us the Padillas story arc a couple of seasons ago look relatively minor in comparison.

As I write a good many of us may be working from home, either by choice or by force. Some of us may already have been working from home, but travel restrictions may be keeping us from visiting our clients or customers. Rob works for the USPS, so I doubt working from home is an option for him. (Be careful out there, rob.) Some of us may see our work cut back or lost entirely. Too soon to tell.

Less than a month ago I was planning on playing hooky taking the day off from work and going into DC to see something no one has seen in ninety-five years: a major league baseball team that calls Washington home raise a world championship banner. Then the Nats announced they wouldn’t be selling single game tickets for Opening Day, that the tix would only be available as part of a season ticket plan or partial plan. (Ah yes, the sweet smell of success.) Okay, whatevs, I’ll hit StubHub. It might be another ninety-five years before it happens again.

In the words of Gilda Radner’s Emily Litella, “Never mind.” MLB cancelled the rest of spring training and postponed the start of the season by at least two weeks. The NBA, NHL, MLS, and Premier League have suspended their seasons; the XFL (look it up) canceled its season outright. The Masters, PGA and LPGA tours, and most motorsports events have been postponed. The NCAA has cancelled all remaining winter and spring sports championships; any March Madness we see will not be on a basketball court.

Where I live the schools have been closed for at least the next two weeks. The SATs scheduled for today have been postponed. High school sports have been cancelled for the remainder of the academic year, including the basketball playoffs. I guess it’s a good thing Rubin and Whigham have helped prepare us for our immediate sports-free future by turning away from sports to a few weeks of he-said, she-said about academic cheating.

Just wait until the spring story arcs start in a week or two. They’ll make the Thorpiverse look even more like a fantasy land than it already does. Stay safe, TWIMers.

Update (5:25pm EDT): In all the gloom and doom I forgot to wish you all a happy Pi Day. I took time out of my day to bake a pie – an old school Florida favorite, sour orange pie. Here’s a pic so that you may enjoy vicariously. My meringue styling skills could be better.

orangepie

February 12, 2020

It’s not often a lame joke gets called out as a lame joke in Milford

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Where we went: Alexa is hung up on an offhand remark third-grader Chris made to her third-grader self nine years ago. She’s let it affect her self-perception ever since.

Where we could have gone: The white boy who watches Jeopardy! is labeled “smart” and the black girl who watches Jeopardy! is labeled “geeky,” at least by the black girl in her own mind. Apparently nobody else got that message, or else they did and they’ve been keeping it on the down low. So much to mine here; looks like we won’t.

Where we’re going instead: To the Milford High Sanitorium  – or is that “Janitorium”? Luhm’s full janitorial arsenal is on open display above his perpetually shiny handiwork. Phoebe, who has to keep telling Alexa she’s her best friend every other time she opens her mouth, is going to play some sort of intermediary between Chris and Alexa. Maybe Chris wants to ask Alexa to the prom? Share his study guide for AP Western Civilization? Get Phoebe in the Janitorium alone, forcing her to make a tough decision between hooking up with the Mudlark QB and professing her secret love for the one she’s constantly reminding she’s her bestie?

Rubin was doing a good job keeping this story arc between the ditches, but now he’s perilously close to letting it run into the berm. Stick around to watch; I’m planning on it.

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