Bravo! Bravo! Would anyone like to join me in a standing ovation for Brad? For finally snatching the wraparound blinders from his eyes, kicking Ashley's fickle fanny to the concrete curb and untangling himself from her thorny cuckoo's nest. As Brad expressed his complete disgust for Ashley, a disgust most fans have harbored for more than a year, I confess his contempt filled words were music to my ears. Watching Brad finally insert some steel into his spine, straighten up and reclaim his manhood has been a long time coming but was definitely worth the wait. So, instead of murmuring condolences on the loss of his make believe marriage, Brad gets my most sincere congratulations.
Ashley's performance, while decent, was actually nothing new and followed her usual pathetic pattern. Which always begins with those big watery eyes open wide in imitation innocence, blinking rapidly, and skittering up, down and sideways, accompanied at all times by her trembling mouth pleading for understanding and acceptance of her obsession with Victor. But that's only the first phase of her contrite act and history has shown it never lasts more than a few seconds. This time was no exception. When Brad failed to generously pour sympathetic oil atop her scheming head, absolving her of any and all guilt, that mewling mouth suddenly hardened and her lying, acid-tinged tongue began to shoot out blistering flames of blame. Because when it comes to Ashley, nothing is ever her fault. In this case, it was Brad's for refusing to meekly submit when she escorted another man into their marriage and practically forced him in the bed sheets between them. And it was also Jack's fault for daring to suggest his beleaguered brother-in-law focus on his mate and his marriage. And of course, it has to be Nikki's fault for sillily assuming being married to the only man capable of making Ashley's black heart pitter patter with pleasure would prevent her from disrespectfully trespassing on their marital grounds. I'm surprised Ashley hasn't pointed a finger at Diane for stealing Victor's sperm in the first place and thereby forcing her to crave some for her very own.
Without those dark shades distorting his vision, Brad has finally seen the blinding light of truth. And after an appropriate amount of mourning, perhaps he'll manage to land a woman who hasn't been sampled by Victor. Guess he should have stuck with Traci, the only woman in the world apparently immune to Victor's charms. Or maybe she just has too much integrity to allow herself to be tempted by her sister's sloppy seconds.
It will be interesting to see how Abby adjusts to being forcibly separated from Daddy #1. Urged on by Ashley, will she simply slide Victor's face into the empty Daddy slot? Or being the smart beyond her years' lass she has thus far been written to be, will she withdraw even further from Victor, somehow surmising him to be the cause of the family collapse? I doubt Brad's absence will mean Ashley will spend more time with the daughter she mostly ignores, except when using her as a token to purchase passage into Victor's life. Because she'll be far too busy wallowing in flashbacks and spinning future fantasies starring her and Victor.
When it comes to declaring her sick feelings for Victor, I doubt Ashley will let any green grass grow brown beneath her impatient paws. Ashley's sick obsession has turned nearly all of her former fans completely against her, and, like Kevin Fisher, is probably just about past the point of possible redemption. Whether or not she can ever be saved probably hinges on how Victor reacts to her newfound freedom. If there is even a small amount of justice to be found in this sick, soap world, Ashley will hopefully be denied that which she desires most and Victor will let her know in a way she can't possibly misunderstand, that Nikki is and will always be the gatekeeper of his heart. And if the wish at the top of my list comes true, this shameful, scheming semen stealer will wind up exactly where I think she belongs - alone.
In her determined effort to be the best girlfriend she can be, Phyllis repeatedly placed Damon's problems above her responsibilities to Daniel. And Daniel just can't take it anymore. Fed up with constantly placing second in order of importance on Mommy's To Do list, Daniel was even willing to call Damon's home for a while. But Damon had no time for the testy tantrums of a half-grown boy. He was much too busy staring at his sword, visions of sticking it through Dominic's heart swirling through his preoccupied head. So where does an unwanted boy go when he's far from the shelter of his Swiss friends families? Why back to where he started, of course. Christine's. With deadbeat dad Danny having vanished into the black hole of half-explained storyline obscurity, there's a blue robe with Daniel's name on it hanging on the hook in Christine's bathroom. It will probably seem a bit like deja vu for Daniel to once again find himself palmed off by a parent too busy with their own lives to do anything to shape his.
For Damon, I guess the idea of avenging Elias' senseless death worked better in theory than in actuality. Not that I'm advocating violence, but after all those weeks of the glum and moody man shuffling around pontificating in platitudes, when he finally came face to face with the man who's haunted him for so long, in the end, he chose not to end his life.
But not immediately. First there was conversation. About remorse and redemption and Webster's definition of epiphany and what it meant to Dominic. Poor Dominic, troubled all these long eight years with what he had done, hopelessly contemplating suicide. Apparently, however, he found another alternative to keep him from wandering down that dead end lane. But finally, Damon had enough of Dominic's seemingly endless flow of repentant words and used action to drown them out. The resulting confrontation was intense and terrifying with plenty of close ups of enraged eyes, a bobbing Adam's apple, and one body in particular being batted ferociously about. Tears were forced from agonized eyes, a mouth begged for mercy and a jailhouse broken heart tattoo dedicated to Elias' short life tugged at our tattered heartstrings. And we all bought it, or nearly all of us, hook line and sinker, our own hearts torn and bleeding for the hell that Dominic claimed his life had been.
AND IT WAS ALL ONE COLOSSAL CRUEL JOKE! For the vast numbers of us who witnessed and wondered at the reason for that sneaky grin that curled Dominic's lip last week, now we know. Because we got it straight from Brother Dominic's sneering mouth. It was all an elaborate ruse, designed solely to pull the wool over the eyes of the prison staff, Phyllis, Damon and us. Dominic had no more remorse for what he'd done than Kevin did for any of his dastardly deeds. Or Diane. Or Ashley. Or, well, the list of unrepentant people is endless, so I'd better stop there.
I hope Dominic enjoyed his big joke at our expense, because somehow I doubt he'll be chuckling very long. Although he's quite the resourceful criminal; hoodwinking Damon, planning a convenience store hit in a town he's never set foot in, found a like-minded felon to partner with and got himself a gun, all in the space of a couple of hours, Dominic's plotting failed to take into consideration one teeny, tiny detail. The fact that in this tricky town, the walls, doors and even the ceilings have ears. He's about to learn he should have looked both ways, inside and outside before uttering words he wished no one to hear.
Unaware of how fully he'd been fooled, Damon was having an epiphany of his own. Not only did he no longer have any desire to spill Dominic's hot blood, he wanted to help him. By donating 500 dollars of his rainy day fund toward Dom's no guns, no gangs campaign. Phyllis, none too sure a second sight of Dominic wouldn't re-trigger Damon's rage, elected herself as the carrier of the cash. Needless to say, she arrived just in time to overhear every incriminating word muttered by Dominic and his stick-up crime to come cohort. Hauling out her trusty cell phone, Phyllis pecked out what I'm presuming were Damon's digits. But she didn't wait even a second for backup to arrive. Remember, she's Phyllis, the fearless wonder woman, so she bravely cornered the roaring lion in his den. And wound up his prey.
And that's where the story temporarily ended. But, slipping on my psychic sunshades, let me take a few wild guesses as to what might happen next. Let's see, Damon dashes desperately across town to save his distressed damsel, toting, without question, that enormous red tasseled sword. Down will go that flimsy hotel door, a terrific tussle will ensue and when the shouts and screams have changed to grunts and groans, blood-soaked bodies will likely be lying limply on the linoleum. Yes, we've seen the cover on the Soap Opera magazine. If Dominic doesn't die, he is probably destined to spend the rest of his dismal days telling tall tales to his pals in a Georgia prison courtyard. Presumably having been returned there for, among other reasons, being a felon in possession of a gun (that's a big no-no, because Johnny Cochrane in that commercial told us so), attempting to murder one or more persons, traveling beyond the parameters of his parole boundaries without permission and so on and so forth. Of course, if Dominic dies, Damon will have gotten exactly what he wished for, Dominic dead, and the best part is for doing it in self-defense he'll never do a day in jail.
As for Damon, oh the heart-rending scenes we have in store for us. Days, I imagine, while he clings tenuously to life, literally by the very tips of his manicured nails. Tears cascading copiously from her reddened eyes, I expect Phyllis to remain bedside, hands clutching Damon's as she pleads pitifully for her lover to return to the Genoa City land of the outrageously living. More cries are expected to be sent Heavenward in hopes that God will see fit to spare Damon's life. I've even heard poor, long dead Elias may make a ghostly appearance. And in the end, Damon will undoubtedly live to meditate another day. Oh the very joy of what is to come.
Gee, Brittany's bridal shower was rather sparsely attended, wasn't it? Four out of five of her guests were on the groom's payroll. Do you think they dared not say no to the boss? And the fifth was Rose, Brittany's personal cheerleader. Guess when it came down to who might make the better best maid of honor, J.T. or Rose, J.T. won. But yes, it was very sweet and thoughtful of Bobby to plan a bridal party for his bride-to-be.
While the bride was otherwise occupied opening her boxes of bridal gifts, the groom was having a middle-aged man to middle aged man talk with Daddy, hoping to shame him into attending his daughter's nuptials. But while Fred's feet didn't waver from his stubborn stance to boycott the big day, at least not where Bobby could see them, I have no doubt he will appear in time to do his Daddy duty.
Like every GC bride before her, Brittany's search for the perfect wedding dress began and ended with Lauren Fenmore. Because when it comes to wedding wear in GC, everyone who's anyone knows they need not buy when one is usually given for free. One has to wonder whether Fenmore's actually ever sells a wedding gown. But, gone apparently are the days when an anonymous Fenmore clerk wheeled in a rack of gorgeous gowns for the bride's delighted perusal. Also fallen by the wayside was the wedding gown fashion show in slow-mo where we fans oohed and aahed as the beautiful bride spun and twirled in blissful abandon. An old hand now at this bridal gown fairy godmother bit, Lauren has streamlined the process, simply picking one out and presenting it to the blushing bride.
So, literally on the eve of the wedding, we wait anxiously with held breath to see if the bride will actually wed the groom. Teased until the very end with whether or not the best man of honor will confess his undying devotion to the bride. And if he does, how will she respond? Mom Anita has softened, belatedly deciding she belongs in a front row seat at her only daughter's wedding, although she may not be able to see what's going on through her tears of resigned sadness at Brittany's husbandly choice. Sadness that could turn to joy should Brittany finally realize the man she loves isn't Bobby.
Like mother, like son, Kevin and Gloria continued to lie through their teeth to John Abbott. What a couple of deadbeat losers and takers. As for John Abbott, he certainly need never worry about being killed by curiosity like the inquisitive cat. The fact that Gloria and Kevin share the same last name is apparently not even a coincidence worth commenting on. And how could he have missed the big media hoopla the day the GC Chronicle hailed Kevin as hero for the day? Was the paper not delivered that morning?
Speaking of Kevin, he's quite the ungrateful wretch, isn't he? Continuing to enjoy his brother's largesse while plotting to bring him down. Am I the only fan finding him tiresome these days, with his endless temper tantrums and traumas? I wanted to hope for the best where he was concerned, crossed my fingers that he would somehow conquer his demons and begin acting like a normal human being for a change. But that doesn't seem to be in the cards. If Kevin's so filled with rage at the brother who has crawled out on a creaking limb for him time and time again, then let him strike out into the cold, cruel world and forage for his own food and shelter. And once he's beaten his brother down for his dame stealing deed, will he still expect to crash on his couch or bed down in his spare room?
Of course, I don't know why I should hold Kevin to higher standards when it comes to working for a living than any other lazy soul in this City. Those who have a job never bother to report to it. And if on a rare occasion or two, they actually make it to the office, it's not as if they do any thing to earn the enormous salary they collect every two weeks. Not when there are so many pressing personal problems to be hashed and rehashed with their equally slacking off co-workers.
Which is why I question Sharon's need to carve her initials on the highest rung of the corporate ladder. I guarantee that should Jack convince Jabot to plop her inexperienced behind on a cushy corporate pillow, it won't be long before she's tumbling tush first into some trouble that will surely sidetrack her from any duties she was given. It matters little that Jabot is apparently pinching their pennies so hard I can hear them screaming in pain from clear over here on my couch. Because no matter how bleak their financial forecast, Jabot can always find a little something to put another non-producing executive on the payroll. But, in my opinion, Jack only wants her at Jabot in case he can one day use her as a pawn to further fuel his vendetta against Victor.
But that's all for later, for now, though I confess I didn't try very hard, I just couldn't muster up a shred of sincere sympathy for the drama queen's I'm restless rhetoric. Instead of feeling angry and frustrated because her kids have no time to nibble on her home cooked concoctions, Sharone ought to wonder why she has no clue as to their schedules. I don't wonder, however. What else would you expect from someone who has spent the last few years tottering teary eyed from trauma to trauma, allowing Miguel to perform all her parental tasks?
Thump, bump, rattle, roll, hahahahaha. That's me falling off the couch laughing my head off as for the third week in a row, more gushing words about Sharon were poured knee deep into our living rooms. We may not have gotten it the first two times, but the third time is supposed to be the charm. So, say it with me fans. Sharon is beautiful. Sharon is perfect. Sharon's brain would make Einstein green with jealousy. From the edges of the tiny, shell like ears peeking out of her lovely, lustrous blond hair, to the very tips of all ten of her perfect pink toes, Sharon is the very epitome of womanhood and beside her all other earthly women absolutely pale by comparison. We know that now. I swear we do. So, can Nick just make a tape and give it to Sharon so she can play it whenever she's feeling a little insecure and leave us out of it?
Since Harrison, the irrational man, couldn't be sure he'd gotten through to Katherine, he decided to try his luck with Jill who wasted no time confronting her father. And to Jill and Kay's great surprise, mild-mannered Arthur hit the proverbial roof. Yes, Mom Hendricks was indeed poisoned but Arthur insists he wasn't the one who administered the lethal dose. And I happen to believe him. As to who did it? My money is on the greedy son with the medical background, a son who obviously wanted for himself everything Mom had worked so hard for.
Oh yum, yum, Malcolm is indeed back and I am on the edge of my seat waiting for next week to hopefully see more of him. But you know me. Even when I'm happy, my sharp tongue always finds something to pick apart. Like, just how late is the Rec Center open? Is it like 7-11, open all night? And if it was closed, why weren't the doors locked? Where was Victor and why didn't he hear the boxing bag commotion? Or was Devon the only person on the premises?
Funniest line of the Week - Victor to Ashley at finding her on his doorstep: "Why, this is a surprise." What was so surprising? Hasn't she been there every day, sometimes twice?
And finally, the rumor mill has been churning like crazy this week. What is it whispering, you ask? First, word has it that the woman who has probably single-handedly caused an unprecedented drop in worldwide sales of pale pink lip gloss could undergo a miraculous transformation while cruising the sunny seas of wherever her smitten suitor has flown her. A transformation that could make her a brand new woman. Literally. Second, for those loyal fans of the former candy-coated couple of J.T. and CC, rumor has it their heroine may be making a brief appearance in GC. After all, Daddy's definitely going to be in need of a soft sympathetic shoulder to lean on. And no one I know wants those shoulders to belong to Olivia. Plus, now that J.T.'s bruised and tender heart has seemingly healed, what better threat to his newly realized love for best bud, Brittany, than the object of his former affection? And last but most definitely not least, several somewhat reliable sources hint that the real Charles Robert Casein might at last make his identity known. I guess we'll soon see if there's any truth to those rumors.