Sunshine and Frosty Swirl.
"There have to be families out there who are more fucked up than us." –Deb
Yes, Deb, there are families out there who are more fucked up than you. In fact, consider yourself invited to my family's next Seder. Then we'll talk. With Dexter's Dark Passenger out in the open, the Morgan siblings' relationship has reached a whole new pinnacle of dysfunction thanks to Deb's half-assed 12-step program. Is it just me or is anyone else slightly unnerved by Dexter and Deb as bunk buddies and a little something I'd like to gently remind you all about from last season: INCEST <<shudder>>. All right, fine, it didn't actually get that far, but it got close enough for me to nearly dry heave into a paper bag. Speaking of this new living situation, who's taking care of Harrison? Is he just living it up at Dexter's vacant apartment, gorging on milk and cookies and staying up past 10 pm to watch Homeland? Seriously, someone needs to watch that kid otherwise he's going to get nightmares… and possibly also diabetes. All right, I've already invoked my first diabetes joke, and it's not going to get any better from here, folks, so let's get this over with.
"I call it my Dark Passenger." –Dexter
With blood trickling, then running, then gushing behind Dexter's eyelids before turning black and seeping into his deepest, darkest, most empty places…it's time to welcome back the Dark Passenger! Dexter's vivid DP depiction reminds me of Monday morning, except it's usually vodka -- not the blood of my victims -- surging behind my pulsing eyeballs.
Speaking of the Dark Passenger... poor Dex. His small glimmer of hope for a murder-free life took the shape of "reformed" serial killer Wayne Randall for only a day. As soon as that sunshine-loving homicidal maniac sauntered in front of an 18-wheeler, Dexter's dream was kaput. And what's worse, he knows it.
"I am the worst fucking detective in the world." –Deb
Yes, yes you are. Folks, I think Lieutenant's finally hit the nail on the head. To make up for her atrocious powers of perception, Deb's operating some kind of Betty Ford Center for recovering serial killers out of her bungalow. Except, unlike the actual Betty Ford Center, if patients don't make it through all 12 steps, it won't be their drug-addled body you'll find in a ditch somewhere. Instead, it'll be some poor drifter named Hobo Joe who once had a mischievous twinkle in his eye but now has a stab wound in his chest. Also, can we talk about Deb's cheap party string lights? I know you're in Miami where style and class are questionable at best, but have some self respect, get over to CB2 and get yourself a lamp. Your bungalow reminds me of my college dorm room. All that's missing is an Abercrombie & Fitch shopping bag that's doubling as a makeshift poster, a plastic mattress and several piles of dirty laundry.
Batista & Quinn
"Sunshine and Frosty Swirl"
- "All this waiting around is like dating a Born-Again-Christian." –Masuka
- "Looks like you two are about to eat each other's shit." –Wayne Randall
- Is it just me, or was anyone else craving Frosty Swirl by the end of this episode? It looked delicious!
- The Louis plotline has gotta go. This guy's such a loser I find myself wanting to reach into the TV and strangle him myself.