At least in the tortured, guilt-ridden mind of her adoptive Daddy's, if no place else. And her allegedly caring mother just doesn't understand any of her husband's actions. Yes, Sharon is being awfully adult in dealing with her dear daughter's unexpected passing. In her self-absorbed mind, yes, it's all so unbearably tragic that her daughter is no longer with them to spread her childlike cheer, but the bottom line is, when it all comes down to it, it's really all about her. Once again her husband isn't around when she needs him. How terrible that she has to whine complainingly or be held in Bradley Never Miss a Trick or Opportunity's arms or lean her weary, left alone head on his sympathetic shoulder when she should be receiving consoling pats on the back from her husband. Shameful that she has to sit in court alone wondering why her husband isn't right there beside her. Her dear little Cassie wasn't perfect and though she will be sorely missed, Sharon should be the woman uppermost in her man's mind. Forgive me if I just can't muster up much sympathy at Sharon's self-pitying plight. She did have my admiration for a few minutes as she insisted to Nick that all she wanted was to know her daughter for who she really was, however much the knowledge might pain her. Said admiration, however, trickled away when her forceful words weren't backed up with action on the witness stand, although I did understand why doing so would have been seen and felt as a betrayal by her husband.
As is the norm in just about every case prosecuted in Genoa City's kangaroo court system, especially those placed in the incompetent paws of Wrong Again Richards, once again an innocent person is being railroaded toward a concrete cell. DA What's My Name Richards' performance, filled with exaggerated facial contortions accompanied by that sickening know it all voice coming out of his smirking mouth, should have caused Webster to revise its dictionary, displaying a picture of his face right next to the definition of "stupid." Because his ridiculous rhetoric about dogs driving and aliens transporting themselves to earth proves his first, last and middle name are all, you guessed it, stupid. The court case itself had so many errors, I won't even bother to point them out, but it was still worth watching and had some excellent moments. Although many fans might disagree, I didn't think Christine was as bad as many think. And despite Richards' condescending demeanor and attempt to make them appear unredeemable liars, I thought Daniel and Devon held their own.
After what seems like years of despising the new and not necessarily improved Nick, I'm finally beginning to like him again. He's playing superbly a man torn between doing what might be right and what could hopefully not only satisfy his thirst for vengeance but also assuage his colossal sense of guilt. However hard he labored to block them out, Cassie's whispered dying words kept returning, trying to force him to see and admit what really happened that terrible night. They chased him relentlessly all the way to Madison where he heard from Cassie's adopted mother, Alice's lips, how honest and moral Cassie had always been. And they stayed with him as he took a sweet and heart-tugging stroll with Cassie along What She Could Have Become Boulevard. Finally, Cassie's words absolving Daniel of all blame became too loud too ignore and his conscience overcoming his anger, he decided to unearth her clothes from the hole in which he'd buried them. Nick probably hopes turning over the clothes will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt Cassie couldn't have been driving, but instead they'll likely prove beyond a shadow of a doubt exactly the opposite. It will be interesting to see what's in that bag besides Cassie's torn green skirt. Imagine her mother's surprise should it contain not the dainty green sandals Sharon would have sworn she was wearing, but a pair of never before seen boots, one of which is minus a piece of its rubber heel. Of course, given the unprecedented pace at which this court case has raced, his action may wind up being too late for Daniel. Because although from my opinionated seat on the sofa, there seems to be enough reasonable doubt to have some to spare, the Judge seems to harbor no such belief and appears to have already made up his mind that Daniel's guilty as charged. But, hopefully, if Nick isn't in time to stop the verdict, perhaps his actions will come soon enough to stop Daniel from actually serving any time.
Mac may as well just turn over the living of her life to Grandmamma. Because she certainly can't seem to live it by herself. It was bad enough that Kay practically had to scratch out a dot to dot drawing showing Mac the way to J.T.'s bed. Heck, she did everything but snatch off her clothes and personally tuck her under his bedcovers. Now, to ensure J.T. won't in a weak second succumb to Brittany's considerable charms, a scented snare we haven't forgotten he once got his, um, foot, caught in with her mother, Kay heeded the glowing light bulb in her brain and decided to turn her mansion into a refuge for rarely working adults. I'm sure she reasoned that if her friend John Abbott could do it, well by God, so could she! I assume she will also instruct her accountants to continue paying the monthly expenses at the now empty loft, presumably to keep it in readiness for the day Mac and J.T. can return there, minus third wheel, Brittany, of course.
Although Brittany at first balked just a bit at being bundled with Mac and J.T. like a buy two get one free brown bag bargain, it really didn't take much persuasion to convince her that living a luxurious life with little more to do than summoning someone else to do whatever it is for you was a pretty darn good deal. For J.T., Kay's idea didn't even warrant a second thought. Not the type to look a gift horse in the mouth and count its cavities, living life on someone else's dollar sounded perfectly fine to him. What did Mac have to say about it? Well, though I cocked my head toward the TV to make sure I wouldn't miss a whisper, though I listened closely, I failed to hear a single syllable of protest pop from Mac's mouth. Though she isn't saying so yet, obviously she still has it bad for the man who trampled all over her emotions and would agree to anything that will keep him close while she makes up her mind. To save those of us who hate these two together the misery of weeks or even months of Mac's should I or shouldn't I forgive him waffling, Kay ought to just buy J.T. outright, wrap him up and present him to the hesitant heiress as a gift. Lord knows, she'd certainly never miss the few pennies it would cost her. What does Kay get out of it? A chance to re-live life and love vicariously through the three muppets. Whoever swore money couldn't buy one love didn't know Kay. Besides, she has to be sick and tired of her solitary seat on the settee, with nothing but Esther's prattle or Jill's rants to liven up her days. By the way, how thrilled selfish Jill will NOT be to learn of her new mansion mates. The only thing that will make this one worth watching for me is if Kevin is invited to add his special brand of zaniness to this motley mix.
While Kay was ordering Esther to place a welcome mat at every entrance to make sure her guests knew just how happy she was to have them, Yolanda Hamilton was receiving no such reception at the place Devon calls home. Rescinding his angry ultimatum for Yolanda to pick him over her pipe or never lay eyes on him again, Devon decided to see how she was getting along. Not so well, as it turned out, so caught up in her pursuit of coCanee forgetfulness, Yolanda was shaking and twitching with need. Accosting passers by and begging them for dimes and dollars. To Devon's dismay, Yolanda didn't even recognize the face of her only child, seeing him as just one dollar nearer to her goal. We won't mention how unlikely it is that druggies and their broad daylight dealers would frequent the same park as stay at homemakers and their ice cream cone eating picture perfect progeny. Or that Devon could threaten to cell phone the GC PD and report the unlawful dispensing of drugs without a license with no repercussions and walk away with both his phone and his face unaltered. But such is life in Genoa City, and his threat was enough to get Yolanda out of the park and into the Winter's opulently furnished family box. A shower cleaned her up outside, a plate of pancakes took care of her inside, and Dru's cast off clothing made her look almost like one of them. But it didn't take long for both Yolanda and Devon to realize that looks were quite deceiving. For in the Winters' disapproving eyes, Yolanda bore little resemblance to either of them, and the last place they wanted to see her was in their home. Devon begged and pleaded for them to soften their hearts and open them enough to include Yolanda, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. Before they could show her the way to the door, Yolanda found it herself and went through it without a backward look. I can understand the Winters' refusal to give Yolanda free rein of their home where she probably couldn't be trusted not to pilfer what could easily be pawned or bartered, but perhaps they could have offered to put her up in some moderately priced motel room for a night or two. On the other hand, I didn't hear Yolanda saying she was willing to make a stab at getting clean, so it probably would only have amounted to tossing good money after bad, as they say. No doubt Yolanda made a beeline back to the park where she could finish what Devon interrupted.
Speaking of interrupted, for Sheila it's as if her life has never been interrupted. It would seem that time has stood stock still; the needle on this nutcase's record stuck in the same worn down groove. Sheila the great and powerful, who can escape from her restraints more successfully than Houdini. I wish someone would snatch the welcome mat out from under her feet. Scot is a grown man and Sheila's still bitterly twisting the truth into a nearly unrecognizable blob, crying about the many wrongs this nameless rich woman has done. And just what does she hope to prove anyway? Besides the indisputable fact that she's nuttier than a dozen unwanted Christmas fruitcakes? So Scot writes this book, in a month, mind you, that is a warped twisted tale of lies from Sheila's insane mind. A tale that Lauren and a fistful of newspaper clippings can easily disprove. Just the thought of what's probably ahead annoys and wearies me. Having to listen to that precise voice of Sheila's. inaccurate words pouring like poison from that jealous, unhappily twisted mouth. Getting away with everything. It's like having to re-read a book you didn't find all that riveting the first time around. I wish I could just skip ahead, read the last page and be done with it. Please someone, anyone, kill her and have her cremated so she can never come back ever again. I know, just wishful thinking on my part. This rotten Sheila egg is not going anywhere until she's polluted the whole city with her rancid stench. Can you tell I don't like her very much?
Scott, on the other hand, I won't mind seeing more of. Even though I can't believe he's so caught up in Sheila's farfetched fable that he'd bring her to Genoa City with him. He has no money so he can't be paying her way. Has she told him she's independently wealthy? At any rate, even with the devil in tow, it will still be nice to see a new face painted on the Genoa City canvas. While awaiting his arrival, I've been happily entertaining myself trying to figure out where he'll fit in. Which lonely attached lass might catch his eye? Brittany, Mac or Victoria? Who might become his bosom buddy? Kevin or Daniel? The poor lad is certainly going to need someone to talk to since he unwittingly opened the door and invited Satan Sheila inside. Why, before this one has run its course, he may need Kevin's therapist.
But he won't be alone. His poor Mother has a shock in store for her as well, doesn't she? Perhaps Kevin's therapist will give them a two for one discount. But at least until she comes face to face with pure evil, Lauren will get to enjoy a few nights of peaceful, Sheila free dreams and a couple of days daydreaming about her extravagant wedding. Believing Sheila is locked safely away has also turned out good for Gloria. Giving her back her reason for continuing to give John's money away to Tom. Missing for a week, I trust the blackmailer will return, his pockets once again empty and his dirty-fingernailed hands extended for more. Between Sheila and Tom, Michael is going to have more than he can handle.
I haven't been a fan of Brad's for some time, but I have to say, if I would have been keeping score I would have put Brad way ahead in points in his little discourse with Jack. Jack got a point for his Benedict Carlton jab, but that was about the only shot he was able to land and I wouldn't say it even slightly shook Brad's composure. The rest of the points lit up Brad's side of the scoreboard and won him the game. Brad zapped Jack with plenty of zingers, repeatedly causing his mouth to open and close like a beached fish gasping for air. My favs? After Jack boasted he and his cell phone sitting poolside could accomplish more than Brad and a building full of Newman minions (or words along those general lines), and accused Brad of mining Jill for valuable nuggets of corporate gold, I couldn't help but chuckle when Brad fired back that had Jack fired up his magic cell phone and brought his CEO into the loop about Jabot comings and goings (or words along those general lines) she might not have poured all her information into his waiting goblet. But my biggest chuckle of the day came with Brad's parting salvo: "Fire up that cell phone, player."
I've said it before, but I never mind repeating myself. Neil really better start paying less attention to family matters and concentrate on what's going on at the office. Brad is busily arranging all his little yellow duckies in one long neat row and manipulating every Newman in sight. Even though it remains to be seen whether his charms are working as well as he hopes on Victoria. If they are, Neil better step very carefully or he might find himself standing on dry land watching Brad and Seasons sail right out of sight. And Dru will be making a scene right beside him. Unless, of course, she fails to triumph in the land of contract negotiations. Speaking of Seasons, other than the satisfaction of beating Jack, I still haven't figured out what Brad is after. Does he really want to further deplete his 35 million dollar investment (already down to 17 and a half) by helping to shove Jabot back in the red? Isn't he indirectly sabotaging his own daughter's legacy? You know, the Abby daughter he claims to love so completely? And what's the point anyway? Jack and Jill will only plunk more of Kay's gold into Jabot's battered black pot.
There's a lot to look forward to, some good and some not so. But regardless, I'll be there putting in my two pennies on all of it.
Okay fans, you've waded patiently through my opinions. What say you this week?