I’ve been sick all week — summer colds, you guys, so much worse than winter ones! — and aside from the utter adorableness that is Molly and TJ and the eternal sadness that is McBain joining the club of law enforcement who let Sonny and Jason slide for crimes committed right in front of them… there just hasn’t been much to talk about.
But then today! There was kissing! And plotting! And more kissing! And it kind of made me super happy?
Michael and Starr! I just love them. Starr smiling and letting her competitive streak shine through is an INFINITE improvement over shrieking Starr. And goofy, shirtless Michael? So much more endearing than smug, mob-wannabe Michael. Their awkward flirting warms the cockles of my cold, dead heart.
Meanwhile, Sam and John finally put those secret sibling rumors to rest! Unless RC’s planning to pull a Star Wars on us, which… no. Let’s not.
It’s not like I’m crazy about John cheating on Natalie! But Sam getting to be the supportive listener to John’s angst? Yum. (The chemistry! It burns! I’m helpless against it! And I’d be lying if I said the preview of Elizabeth an Jason on the bridge did not make me very, very happy. Basically: Sam/John makes everything better.)
Maybe John/Nat fans can do what I did when Port Charles killed Karen and turned Jagger into an unfaithful asshole. (A thing which I am in no way STILL REALLY FUCKING BITTER ABOUT even after all these years, let me assure you.) Namely: stick your fingers in your ears, yell “LALALALALA” at the top of your lungs, and invent a rich fantasy life where your couple is still living their happily ever after somewhere off screen.
Elsewhere! Anna and Spinelli teamed up to close in on Heather, and there is no part of that sentence I don’t love. (Spinelli! 100% less throttle-worthy when interacting with women he doesn’t want to bang!) Heather’s overconfidence is going to be her downfall, and I love the way the various people she’s antagonized and underestimated are joining up to take her down. Umbrella stories for the win!
Of course, nothing could be more wonderful than the lady herself:
HEATHER: I didn’t spike anybody’s ice tea for the last two months!
LUKE: Two months?
HEATHER: She had it coming. That’s all I’m gonna say about it.
And then she MEOWED, you guys. I just– I LOVE HER SO MUCH.
But it can’t be all love. Lately, it seems like any time Jason and Sonny sit down for a heart-to-heart, something amazing happens. And by “amazing,” I mean a thing that causes me to have a rage blackout:
SONNY: McBain should have known better than to approach his sister in public. Now he didn’t kill her directly, but you know what? Definitely put her at risk.
JASON: Now he’s gotta carry it. I definitely can, uh, can relate to that.
SONNY: You’re not sympathizing with McBain, are you?
JASON: No, I’m not going to make any judgements; I can relate. It’s my fault Sam’s baby died. I sent the guys after McBain. He couldn’t get Sam and the baby to the hospital. It’s my fault.
SONNY: This is the business that we’re in. McBain knows that more than anybody. He should have known not to provoke you!
JASON: Sam’s baby still died, Sonny. It doesn’t matter.
SONNY: There’s no way of you knowing she was in McBain’s motel room. […] She could have been at her house or at her mother’s house or whatever. She didn’t have to be nine months pregnant in a hotel room.
See? They’ve both made mistakes! I mean, Sam had the audacity to leave her house while pregnant and Jason hired thugs to beat up a cop who had the audacity to talk to his wife. That’s totally the same in moral terms, right? (Also, ladies! If you’re nine months pregnant and anywhere other than your home at all times, it is totes your fault is something happens to your baby! Everyone knows that babies never die in people’s houses!)
But let’s slide right past the victim blaming and circle back around to the part where Sonny’s incredulous that Jason could possibly relate to McBain’s situation in any way, shape, or form. Because Sonny — of course — has led an entirely blameless life in which no one he loves has ever been hurt due to the unintentional consequences of his actions or choices:
Silly me! All of those things happened so long ago! How can Sonny be expected to remember every little wife who’s been blown up or son who’s been raped because of him? It’s not like there’s a more recent event — like, say, the entire reason he had Joe Scully Jr. brought to town, which might bring to mind certain parallels between his situation and McBain’s. OH WAIT:
Oh, Sonny. You’re still the worst. Forever and always, cupcake.