Caray, Caray!

This is recapper Alex's first posting. But as he was having trouble uploading, I am posting it for him. Enjoy (NinaK)
Warning: This episode has many, many short, talky scenes. (Note from NinaK--all the episodes have many many short talky scenes!)

We start today’s capítulo with a replay of Max and Marfil by the pool. Max, who has added “attractively serious” to his repertoire of expressions, tells Faux Marfil that he wants a divorce. She responds with that annoying, wounded piglet squeal and the glycerine flows. He has to give her a chance, she sobs, wait until she gets well. Her pleading crescendoes to a shrill, unintelligible whine that makes my hand just itch to slap her. (Fortunately for me, Bruna owes her one.) Max tells Faux Marfil that they’re adults and need to look at the present, not the future. She starts bleating about Diana; he tells her to leave Diana out of it; more shrieking and sobbing about the injustice of it all, or something to that effect. Bottom line: Faux Marfil is distraught and wants to die. Max tells her that she’s young, very beautiful, and deserves a man who loves her. Max is no longer that man. He leaves, and the fiera in Faux Marfil comes out. Stopping just short of turning her head in a complete circle and foaming at the mouth, she heatedly declares to the absent Max that he will never divorce her, never.

Back to Octavia and the purloined emerald bracelet: As she comes down the stairs with Yolanda, Octavia announces that she wants charges brought against the Soriano sisters. One, or both of them, stole the bracelet. Yolanda advises her not to proceed without proof and suggests that maybe Octavia just lost it. While Octavia insists that it was stolen, I marvel how her surgeon, hairdresser, and personal shopper all joined forces to make her look like the love-child of Jaclyn Smith and Tanya Roberts.

Faux Marfil provides a surprisingly welcome interruption by traipsing into the room in her kitten-heeled FM shoes, pushing her walker like a grocery cart. She tells Octavia and Yolanda the bad news. Yolanda (who inherited her powers of intellect from the same ancestor as Larry), asks Faux Marfil if she misunderstood Max. Octavia turns on Yolanda, blaming her for having brought Diana into their happy home. Faux Marfil resumes her faux tantrum. Octavia silences her and intones “The last word has not yet been spoken.” I wait for her to underscore this portentous declamation with a slow sweep of the arm as she “scans the house,” but she disappoints me. Bruja. Instead, Octavia assures our Whiny Blonde Weasel of her support. But Faux Marfil wants more: She wants Octavia to exercise her matriarchal authority and forbid Max to divorce her. Octavia darkly vows that she will never allow Max to divorce Marfil and marry a poor girl like Diana.

Back in the kitchen, with the horrors of the Bracelet Interrogation now behind her, Nancy cheerfully pours herself a glass of O.J. She tells Lala about the Truth Bomb by the pool. Lala’s not amused. In a rare display of perspicacity, Nancy observes that the Max-Marfil divorce is like something out of a telenovela. She goes on to suggest that maybe Gaby and/or Diana stole the bracelet. Lala is Outraged. She chastises Nancy by stoutly declaring that the Soriano girls are incapable of taking what doesn’t belong to them. Nancy looks appropriately chagrined.

On the other side of TeleMiami, Gaby brings Luscious Larry a glass of mango juice. He tells her it’s delicious and to sit down next to him because they need to talk. Gaby gingerly takes a seat at the end of the couch. He says he is sorry that his mother fired her. Gaby agrees that it was unfair, but there’s nothing to be done about it. It’s Octavia’s house, she can fire anyone she likes. Gaby could never go back. But wait. Larry has something rare and wondrous: An idea. She could come back as his wife! He needs her. Not knowing when to stop, he tells her about Pilar’s call for help. While it pains her greatly, Gaby does the Right Thing. She urges him to rescue Pilar and try to be happy with her. Larry nixes that. Pilar doesn’t deserve his help or forgiveness. He pleads with Gaby to to marry him so that he can avoid being trapped into marriage with Pilar. As further proof that he’s a romantic and sensitive kind of guy, Larry proposes a Vegas wedding, then removes her glasses and takes her in his arms. Does she cave? I think we all know the answer to that one, girls and boys. It’s not like Gaby has a spine, or self-esteem. And Larry may be a doofus, but he’s a buff doofus who looks like Brad Pitt with puppy-dog eyes and an oh-so-kissable mouth. Of course she caves.

Over at Bracho Imports, Diana has validated Diego’s recommendation by becoming an ace receptionist before lunch. Julietina? Ovaltina? Okay, fine, Tina congratulates her. Unlike that pack of zorras who preceeded her, Diana is intelligent as well as pretty. Diana recounts her refusal of Bracho’s offer of a ride home and Tina gives her a stern warning. He’s a wolf. Tina knows what she’s talking about. Her tone of voice intimates that she’s a wee bit bitter she doesn’t speak from personal experience.

Octavia walks into Max’s bedroom. His glistening chest tells us that he is fresh out of the shower and his blue bathrobe nicely complements Mamita’s black-lace-over-blue-rayon cocktail dress with the plunging neckline. Just the thing for a morning at the office. But I digress. They argue about the divorce until Max concedes that he’ll wait for Marfil to recover taking action. (Baaaad move, hombre. Faux Marfil won’t be tossing out that walker any time soon.) He’s not content to leave it at that, however. He informs Mamá that once he’s free of Marfil, he’ll be happy his own way. Octavia is not down with that. If Max gets married to that dirt-poor nurse she’ll disinherit him. What’s more, she will destroy Diana’s life. Diana will curse the day she ever set foot in Casa Irazabal. She’ll curse the hour she was born. There will be no end of cursing in Diana’s future.

On that warm and fuzzy note, we cut to Camila and Silvia, who are wandering about in a warehouse? nightclub? restaurant? I can’t quite tell. They have trouble seeing, too, although it doesn’t occur to them to remove their sunglasses. Silvia has an unflattering new coiffure. She must have made quite a haul when she raided Jennifer Garner’s wig collection. Anyway, they stumble upon Pancho and his henchmen, who immediately pull guns on them. Camila explains that she had called earlier about selling some jewelery. Pancho demands to see what she’s got. She hands over Octavia’s bracelet. Without a jeweler’s loupe or even proper lighting, Pancho accurately appraises it with just a brief squint. He asks how much she wants for it. Camila decides that she could use twenty grand herself to stock up on designer hot-pants and FM shoes, so she jacks the price up to $40,000.00.

Larry and Gaby are at the airport, on their way to Las Vegas. This is basically a filler scene. Move along, folks, nothing to see here.

Either I missed something or Diana’s proud resolve is as short-lived as her memory. She’s in the car with Victor the Wolf, thanking him for the ride. He goes from telling her what a pleasure it was to how incrdibly beautiful she is and finishes with “I could steal a kiss from you.” Like any self-respecting Good Sex Kitten menaced by a Bad Studmuffin, Diana is impactada. Victor persists, they argue, she threatens to deck him. This exchange informs Victor that he’s dealing with the Mucha Mujer variety of Good Sex Kitten. He finally claims he’ll behave and Diana finally gets out of his car. As she watches him pull away, who should jog up but Diego, the faithful swain who launched her on this glamorous new career. She gives him the Cliff’s Notes version of what transpired in the car and assures him that she’ll slug Victor if he tries anything. Gallant gent that he is, Diego does not hide his relief at being absolved of rescue detail.

Larry and Gaby are still at the airport. She’s having second thoughts, she can’t just run off without a word to Granny or Diana. He tells her again how much he needs her, blah, blah, blah, Pilar, blah, blah, blah. He leans in for a close-up. Can she resist those big brown eyes with the dreamy lashes? Could anyone? Gaby’s inner conflict is emphasized by the Glycerine Tear of True Dolor that courses down her cheek.

Max and Emilio are having a drink in Emilio’s office. Emilio asks how Marfil took the news of the divorce. Not well. Lala calls Max on his cell phone. She tells him about the missing bracelet and Octavia’s insistence on reporting Diana to the police. Max almost succeeds in looking attractively impactado and says he’ll take care of it.

Back at Casa Irazabal, Faux Marfil is raging to Bruna. The idea that that idiot Max would want to divorce her! Well, not divorce her, Debora/Faux Marfil, but divorce Real Marfil. (I’m not quite following her line of reasoning as Real Marfil is no prize, either, but Faux Marfil isn’t exactly the brightest fiera that ever bared fangs.) Bruna says the whole thing is the nurse’s fault, and we can see her all but salivate over the mental image of shapely Diana in her thin cotton scrubs. Faux Marfil swears to Bruna that that cheap little thing won’t take Max away from her.

Meanwhile, the sale of Octavia’s bracelet isn’t going as planned. Pancho tells Camila that he’ll give her $10,000.00 for it. She says no deal, snatches back the bracelet, and stalks out with Silvia in tow. Pancho tells one of his henchmen to follow them. He wants them to learn the extent of his power. The henchman enlists a colleague and and they set off in hot pursuit of our plucky ingénues. Camila and Silvia realize they’re being followed and make a run for it, just as fast and far as their pleather go-go boots can carry them. They make it to the parking lot out back. Cunningly taking a page from Agent Sydney Bristow’s book, Silvia suggests that they hide in the dumpster. They’re barely inside when the the henchmen come running past.

Cut to Diana at home, thanking the Virgin for helping her get the receptionist job. She asks that Gaby find something, too. She also asks that Gaby no longer suffer for her love for Larry. And come to think of it, she doesn’t want to suffer for Max, either. He belongs to another woman. With her to-do list for Our Lady of Unemployment all checked off, Diana turns away without so much as an “Amen” to address the absent Max. She wonders aloud when she will see him next, even though it’s better that they never meet again.

Max enters Octavia’s office. caustically remarks that he must have informants in the house. He warns her not file charges against Diana. She asks if that’s a threat and he affirms that it is. She plays the filial loyalty card to no avail. Max tells her he will hire a lawyer to defend Diana if Octavia persists. Max will defend Diana from Octavia, from the whole world if need be. They lock eyes as well as horns. They’re Serious. They Mean It.

Camila and Silvia/Lucy and Ethel emerge from the dumpster. For some reason having shredded paper clinging to their hair is more than alarming being pursued by hired gunmen and they scream as they claw at their hair.

At Casa Soriano, Diana helps Granny set the table while the dear old soul wonders what happened to Gaby. Granny leaves the room and Gaby calls, right on cue, to answer that very question. She tells Diana what’s going on. Diana is impactada and tries to talk some sense into Gaby. Baby Sis rehashes how much Luscious Larry needs her. Gradually he’ll forget Pilar and love her instead. She gushes on and finally a glum-faced Diana wishes her the best.

Meanwhile, Larry enters the Vegas hotel room. Evidently he has an eye for women’s clothing that’s almost as keen as Pancho’s eye for gemstones. While Gaby was on the phone, he was out buying her a wedding dress. She loves it, a low-cut little number made of off-white stretch fabric. All she needs to go with it is a pair of ice skates and a ticket to the Winter Olympics. Larry heads for the bathroom with a box of his own. Something tells me that he bought some smokin’ hot wedding briefs and wants to try out a few new poses in them.

Octavia is dining with the clan. She’s cranky. She has a perfume empire to run. Her MS Outlook calendar is with shady deals, industrial spy jobs, acts of sabotage, all kinds of mayhem. And here she’s had to spend the whole day dealing with hysterical invalids, thieving slut-nurses, and sons who won’t be forced into blind, loving obedience. Yes, Octavia has good reason to be a grumble-bunny. She asks when Larry is going to to get over his depression and come out of his room. Yolanda defends him. Faux Marfil isn’t having any of this. Larry can’t be the center of attention when he’s not even in the room. She decides to pipe up, artfully adopting the tone of a pouty four-year-old to signal her innocent victim status. Larry’s not the only unhappy camper at Casa Irazabal, not by a long shot. Max knows what’s coming and thinks “Oh, God, not again.” I’m with Max on this one, but Paola hasn’t heard about the divorce, so it gets rehashed for her benefit. Octavia and Max argue again. Yolanda tries to make peace. Faux Marfil apologies for “unintentionally” causing a family squabble. Max congratulates her on a job well done anyway, states that no one has a say in his business, and leaves the table. Octavia orders him to return, but he ignores her. Faux Marfil whimpers that she loves him, doesn’t want to lose him, and so on. Again, I want to slap her. Again, Octavia utters dark vows. Again, no grandiose, melodramatic gestures. Damn.

Back in Vegas, Larry and Gaby become Señor y Señora Irazabal. (The ceremony, much to my disappointment, was not conducted by an Elvis impersonator.) Afterwards, Larry carries her across the threshold of their hotel room, sets her on the bed, and tells her he has to go downstairs a minute to call Max with the happy news. She decides to follow suit and calls Diana, who is less than enthusiastic about this turn of events.

Meanwhile, it’s Max’s turn to be dismayed when Lunkhead Larry calls from the hotel bar. He doesn’t sound too happy as he gives Max the scoop. Max tries to look attractively impactado. He doesn’t succeed.

Camila and Silvia turn up at Emilio’s apartment. At least I’m assuming it’s his -- he comes out in a bathrobe and asks them where they’ve been, why they’re all worked up. Silvia almost spills the beans, but Camila tells her to keep her “spectacularly stupid” mouth shut and storms out. Ouch.

While we were sitting through the filler scene above, it slowly began to dawn on Larry that marrying the maid just because she loved him might have more serious consequences than, say, buying a new pair of Speedos just because they were on sale. The Little I.Q. That Could was working hard! Go, Larry! Aw, he’s sooo cuuute! All right, enough of that. Max runs down the list of reasons why marrying Gaby was a Bad Idea. Larry agrees all the way down the line. Unfortunately, the Little I.Q. That Could ran out of steam when it got to “What Next?” Max doesn’t have any bright ideas right now, either, so they hang up and Larry chugs down four fingers of Scotch.

The next scene begins with an ocean liner cruising by. Why, I don’t know, unless it’s carrying the drugs/guns/women “imported” by Victor Bracho. Either way, Bracho Imports is where we’re going next. The thirty-something blonde who explained the phone to Diana is now dishing the dirt on her to Tina. Cómo te crees, Diana accepted a ride home home from the Big Bad Wolf in spite of their warnings. That pistol packin’ mama known as Mrs. Victor Bracho would become a fiera if she found out. Diana arrives and is promptly busted. Blondie tells Diana that her offense is grounds for immediate dismissal by Sra. Bracho. Just to make sure she gets it, Tina spells it out for her. Victor Bracho is only interested in going to bed with Diana. And again, to my surprise, Diana is impactada. Did she really believe that Victor the Wolf wanted just a kiss? I’m sorry, but I’ll believe in the Satanic Duck that kills people foolish enough to put on the Necklace of Doom in La Estrambótica Anastasia before I’ll believe that! That’s just messed up.

Faux Marfil is sunbathing by the pool, wearing a red bathing suit with appliquéed brown flowers. (We’re talkin’ seriously tacky beachwear, enough to get someone “auf’ed” on Project Runway.) Not wanting to be outdone, Camila shows up in that staple of every Bad Sex Kitten’s wardrobe, the leopard print halter top. After a brief, catty exchange, Camila tells Faux Marfil that the bracelet sale was a bust. Faux Marfil gets agitated. We can tell she is agitated because she’s doing a darn good imitation of a Stepford wife set at the wrong speed. She rehashes the whole dreary tale of why she needs that money. Camila demonstrates far more patience than I during this rant and ends the conversation by declaring her intention of going back to Andrés and giving him the bracelet as payment.

And speaking of Andrés, here he is, in Dr. Evil’s hospital room. He fills in Dr. Evil on the deal with Camila. The good doctor replies that if la zorra de Camila comes up with twenty grand, ten of it is his. He’d like to shovel up the dirt on Our Heroine for nothing, to sink her, to ruin her reputation, etc., etc., but if he can make a little profit to boot, hey, why not? (He makes a good point. It was his idea to frame Diana in the first place. If there can be honor among thieves then I don’t see why there can’t be intellectual property laws as well.) After they’ve settled financial matters, Andrés and Dr. Evil agree
to show Diana who they really are. They will bring her down. She will be at their mercy.

At this point I feel compelled to tally up the number of characters who are panting after Diana. I come up with seven, if you count Bruna. Diana’s got her hands full, all right.

That would be Diana’s cue, but instead we see Sra. Bracho arrive, presumably at Bracho Imports. Her hand is trembling as she takes the gun out of her purse. Apparently she’s not such a fiera after all. Cut to Victor, who summons Blondie to his office. She comes in and is reduced to a simpering, quivering mass of jelly by his red-hot Bad Boy vibe. He tells her to send in the new telefonista and not to let anyone interrupt them. Blondie exits with a lewd giggle and smirk. Victor tells us that he’s going to take Diana to bed. This news flash does not leave me impactado.

Time to check in on the newlyweds. It’s morning when Larry staggers into the hotel room, fetchingly rumpled, tie askew. Gaby has exchanged her white skating costume for a white bathrobe. (Light bulb over my head: Ahhh, she’s la esposa virgen still! But that’s another telenovela.) After gently rebuking her Dream Husband for spending the night in the bar, she tells him she was worried, not knowing where he was or with whom. Why didn’t he call her? Why on their wedding night? (Why didn’t she just go down to the bar? That’s what I ‘d like to know.) Larry kind of tells the truth – one drink led to another, then another, and so on. He flops onto the bed, muttering, then asks Gaby to take off his shoes. Gaby obeys, needless to say, and Larry mumbles “I don’t love her…I don’t love her…” before sinking into a complete stupor. Gaby is taking the virgin bride thing pretty hard. Why did he leave her alone? He’s going to be the first man in her life, and…and…and the Glycerine Tear of True Dolor courses down her cheek.

Victor freshens his breath in preparation for his renewed attack on Diana’s virtue. Enter Diana. I haven’t been able to fully appreciate the unique ugliness of her dress before now. It somehow manages to look both frumpy and slutty, and that’s quite an accomplishment. Oh, yes, the plot. So Victor tells Diana he’s giving her a raise. He circles in on her. He’s the boss, he can give out raises after less than 24 hours. She moves over to the desk. She’d rather earn the raise first. He moves in again. She can earn that raise, all right. Diana hopes to earn it by doing good work, and she knows how to do that. Uh oh. Before Diana realizes that she’s acorralada between Victor Vicor and his fine office furnishings, he goes for it, pinning her against the desk. As they struggle, he tries to make himelf heard over the ominous music and Diana’s extremely loud panting, then decides “The hell with it” and kisses her with all his brute force.

Roll credits.

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