There are so many New Years resolutions I could make for this show, if I had that power. I’ll be honest: at least half of them would involve Alexis getting laid at least once a week, in various positions, with Julian. Because I have PRIORITIES, obviously.
Another good chunk would involve accepting the fact that no matter how hot Silas and Sam are, John McBain is gone and he is never coming back. But whatever. I’m sure I’ll get over that some time before I’m eighty.
And while we’re dreaming impossible dreams, I’d really like my default response to the sight of Felix’s face not to be “SHUT UP, FELIX. GOD.” But, you know… here we are:
FELIX: How could Patrick be such a jerk? First, he tells you he loves you. Then he moves one hair’s breath from marrying you, then he dumps you? You know, Patrick is definitely the loser here. Karma’s gonna come and bite him in the butt, and he’s going to realize he made the biggest mistake of his miserable life.
SABRINA: Fee, stop.
FELIX: I won’t stop. And I certainly won’t sit here and listen to you defend that selfish ass.
Yes, how dare Patrick not see into the future and know his wife was alive before he made plans and promises with Sabrina! Who does he think he is, having the nerve to want to be with his recently dead wife? FLAMES. Flames on the side of my face!
(I mean, I will grant that Patrick did mess up by not IMMEDIATELY dumping Sabrina on their wedding day when she was expecting it, and instead ludicrously allowing her to get her hopes up by drawing out the inevitable for several weeks. But somehow, I don’t think that’s what Felix meant. SHUT UP, FELIX. GOD.)
Fortunately, one of my other dearest wishes — that everyone in town line up to smack Carly out of her Franco fantasy — looks like it’s about to start coming true. Things kicked off (hilariously) once again with Sam:
SAM: You know the Quartermaines are known to have a bad temper. But Michael doesn’t. But you know he’s actually not a Quartermaine. He’s a Corinthos, so that kind of explains it all.
Sam, the only thing that sentence explains is that you’ve taken either some really good drugs or hit your head hard enough to forget everything you’ve ever known about Michael, Sonny, Carly, Morgan, genetics, and the last ten years of your life.
But it turns out that ridiculous line was foreshadowing! (Kind of! Sort of!) Because Carly decided yesterday was the perfect time to let her eldest son know about the new killer in her life. In public, because apparently she’s laboring under some delusion that Michael would hesitate to scream at her in the middle of the MetroCourt restaurant, as if that wasn’t one of his top ten “Scream At My Mother” sites in town.
And it was incredibly, incredibly satisfying:
MICHAEL: How did you pull this off? My mom goes from hating you with every fiber of her being to suddenly dating you?
CARLY: You’re surprised and in shock.
MICHAEL: That doesn’t even begin to describe it, mom. This is sick!
KIKI: Michael! He did save your life.
MICHAEL: Yeah, he did save my life. With my mom watching. Now was that performance art or just another convenient way to work my mom?
KIKI: You’re not being fair at all right now.
MICHAEL: He did one thing — he did one decent thing. What about the rest of it?
CARLY: Please stop, Michael.
MICHAEL: No. I have earned my right to hate this guy!
That was seriously the best, except for all the times Kiki opened her mouth and every single person in the restaurant failed to stop what they were doing to march over to slap her. Seriously, MetroCourt patrons? Don’t even pretend you come to this restaurant for any other reason than to witness Corinthos family drama. The least you can do is jump in at the appropriate moments and exact the justice we viewers at home cannot. Also: SHUT UP, KIKI. GOD.
The only not awesome part of these scenes — other than the fact that we’re having to do this at all, because why is Franco still a thing, you guys? WHY? — was the fact that they were preceded by Olivia barging into his hotel room to be a sanctimonious asshole. For basically no reason? I mean she literally knocked on his door to yell at him about who his mother is, as if that’s something he had any control over whatsoever, and then to make some douchey cracks about Steven Lars being a killer too. (And thanks so much for bringing that craptastic story back up, Liv.)
All of which is particularly rich, considering she’s currently dating a man who has literally spent the last three weeks in non-stop whining about how he’s being prevented from killing all the people he personally wants to kill. Shut up, Olivia.
Anyway, I always resent it when one character’s obnoxiousness forces me to sympathize with another character I hate and this was no exception. Because… seriously:
OLIVIA: Steven Lars has a conscience.
FRANCO: So do I. So do I! You think this doesn’t bother me, all the things that I’ve done? You think I don’t lie awake at night — you think I don’t feel terrible for the things I did to Michael and Sam and Jason?
That’s… exactly what I think? Because absolutely nothing you’ve done since losing your tumor has indicated you consider your past crimes more than a minor inconvenience?
He is such a terrible character, you guys. I would trade every single one of my other resolutions (except maybe the Alexis one, because… come on) for him to disappear forever.