AND JUST LIKE THAT: Thunderdome! Erotic Witchery!
The Internet is destroyed so this is all just what I assume happened this week.
This summer Johnny Writes… is all about the exciting (?) adventures of some rich ladies with lots of clothes. If you would like to help me become a rich lady also with lots of clothes, an excellent surefire way to do that is by putting your dollars into my virtual tip jar! Think about that every time you have a little chuckle.
It is with [little] regret that I must inform you, my treasured subscribers, that a brief, though intense and oddly stimulating, thunderstorm destroyed forever the Internet in Bedford-Stuyvesant (that’s where I live) yesterday, leaving me tragically incapable of viewing last night’s most recent installment of And Just Like That. Thus, the following recap is based entirely on the episode preview, the press images available as of Thursday, and my [very astute] assumptions about what occurred for our beloved fancy ladies.
Carrie awoke from unsettling dreams to find herself no longer imprisoned in Aidan Shaw’s outhouse, but in a neon-lit thunder dome, with a strange mechanical apparatus strapped to her face. She looked about frantically and saw three armed male figures towering over her menacingly.
“NOW WE WILL SEE WHAT YOU ARE REALLY MADE OF!” a voice that she recognized as that of the man she once believed to be her one true love said.
It was then that Carrie, still disoriented, realized that two smaller pistols were duct taped to her own hands. Panic and an instinct for survival that had seen her through many a Barney’s Warehouse sale took over, and she quickly fired off several rounds. PEW PEW PEW! Her unknown foes fell to the ground!
“Well played, Bradslawter!” Aidan Shaw said. “Now for the trial of wits: Board games with my unholy brood and ex-wife!”
At first Carrie thought she was outmatched by Rosemarie DeWitt and the Shawlings, but here again she was victorious!
“We are no match for this wily sow!” the Shawshanks cried in defeat.
Carrie was rewarded for her bravery and ruthless cunning by becoming the Tradwife Queen of Virginia and set out upon a four-wheeler to purchase her gingham trousseau.
Her ordeal was not over however. Upon her return to the Shaw Dynasty compound, she was forced, as their new ruler and hive mother, to fish for the clan’s supper with her sweaty, sallow-faced brother-sons, whose eyes followed her every move.
Later that evening, as she was changing into her coronation gown, she glanced toward the windows of her well-appointed prison and spied wee baby Wyatt gazing upon her body hungrily.
“BE GONE, FOUL WHELP!” she cried, and Wyatt slunk away to his lair.
Carrie had only a moment to gather herself before Aidan Shaw appeared at her door.
“You have acquitted yourself honorably and vanquished my minions!” Aidan Shaw said. “Stay here with me and we shall rule this fetid kingdom together!”
“PASS!” fair Carroline said, making a mad dash to catch a flight back to New York.
All the while, Miranda Hobbes was busy squatting at Carrie’s new home and lusting after Dolly Wells.
“I know!” she said one day, “I will have a big party here and invite Dolly Wells for the purpose of seducing her!”
“Bitch, this is not your house!” Shoe the Cat said. And Miranda threw that poor dear feline directly out of the window.
“PARTY TIMES!” Miranda said that night, as a coterie of strange be-patterned hangers-on crowded her ersatz kitchen, swilling wine.
“How horny for me are you right now?” she asked Dolly Wells, whose face said this:
Elsewhere in Manhattan, Charlotte was preparing to host a feast for the Grand High Wizard, a.k.a. the reanimated corpse of Daryl Van Horne. Eager to impress him with her witchery, she brewed up a potion to hex that cute ballerino boy (remember him?) into being forever in love with her daughter Lily.
But then at dinner, the late Mr. Van Horne was like “Ballerinos are gay as fuck!” And Mini-Nureyev was like, “Yeah totes, I’m like super sexually fluid.”
Charlotte felt a stirring of humors and auras within the dark unseen realm of her own person and suddenly realized, like, “What even am I doing? I must have this nubile young himbo for my own sexual familiar!” The candles flickered as she muttered an obscene prayer and invoked the forbidden names to redirect the current of her spell from Lily to herself…
As is well known amongst practitioners of the dark arts, such forces, once unleashed in a community, run rampant, twisting the fates of others in unforeseen ways! Charlotte’s reckless meddling in sexual love magicks made trouble not only for her, but for Nicole Ari Parker as well, who suddenly found herself inexplicably drawn to her hot new film editor. His chiseled visage and strapping bod burned before her. Lustful thoughts stirred her mind and heart, promising to wreak havoc upon her world! What would become of dear President Christopher Jackson, her husband? Bewitched by Charlotte’s ambient erotic maleficia, NAP simply could not bring herself to care.
If only poor Seema had unlocked such power! She was dealing with Rycrest Seahorn or whoever, who was intent on exacting his revenge now that she was starting her own real estate empire in opposition to his. Already he had begun to his campaign of psychological warfare by installing tasteful butthole art in the office she once thought of as her own, but which he planned to turn into a boudoir for his harem of lithesome young “working actors” moonlighting as real estate agents.
“We’ll see how many skytower palaces you can sell working out of a cardboard box in Hoboken!” he cackled, casting Seema from her throne and onto the cold, urine soaked streets.
Whatever was our deposed heroine to do? Who knows! I couldn’t watch the episode! And may never be able to again thanks to Climate Change and Optimum! But perhaps this mysterious gentle matron can help?
Your erudite hilarity is making me feel less weird about continuing to watch this show.
This is glorious and so completely superior to the actual episode