Caray, Caray!

Yes, I swear, and yes, I criticize, and No, I don’t teach Spanish. Please don’t hate me because I’m sardonic, hate me because I’m beautiful. Now, if you people need a neon disclaimer, go to Las Vegas--I got a show to do!

Ah!!! Pray tell, why does Sofia have Juan’s daddy’s belt? It belonged to her “father.” I’m willing to bet her “father” is Juan’s daddy! Or maybe the same manufacturer of this built mad others. Remember, this is the belt that has followed Juan for as long as he can remember (maybe a day or two) and evokes all of those confusing feelings and remembrances of his childhood. Juan slams the belt down in a selfless act of honor for his family. For the one millionth time this month, Juan and Sofia must separate. I ask; is this because they are siblings, or because Sofia’s daddy killed Juan’s pops? Brace yourself: we’re about to enter the ultra-ubiquitous “I love you-I hate you” circle of deceit and misunderstanding. How could Juan possibly love someone whose father killed his parents? How could Juan’s parents not drown him at birth? How could Sofia, in all of her special-ed. glory, find Juan desirable? Regardless, Sofia makes a pretty good argument for the two to stay together; hey they've made it this far. Stop confusing me! yells Juan in his chair-throwing rage. Your father was a bastard who knocked-up my sister and then left her on the streets! Uh oh, Juan’s alter ego has overpowered the other personalities as he (they) breaks down and starts to cry. Stay the course, Juan, stay the course!

Oh my God. Our local fashionista sisters Jimena and Sarita are picking out the perfect wedding ensembles for our lovely fiancées. This post-disco, neon pink Grandma Suit will perfectly accentuate Sofia’s beautiful neck line and ear lobes. The macho fashionistas are keeping their eyes peeled for honeymoon jump suits, too. They simultaneously choose the same outfits on different racks, OMG! They’re like twins! (I told you that doing inventory in that store would be a nightmare). I think I saw Michael Jackson in something very similar. All the more reason for Juan to show it off.

Poor Sofia, she even unbuttoned the top button on her blouse. I think I saw a tinge of pink on her earring. This is going to be a huge setback for her social development. Poor girl has more deaths to mourn than her closet has black garbs. You know that saying about taking the bump in the road and making it a crater? Well, Juan has pretty much redefined that meaning. So here’s the rundown; he doesn’t really know why he has to hate Sofia, other than the fact that the shit-for-brains producers convinced him that Juan would be smart enough to link a belt to his parents’ slaughter. Sofia somehow gets under the wire on this little development and almost convinces Juan to come away with her, but Juan remembers that when all else fails, stay the course (I will not make any sort of political reference for fear of being hated by hundreds)! The whole thing goes down in flames when Juan beats it into Sofia’s head that their little thing is over. That simply means they’ll be back together tomorrow afternoon.

Juan hates Destiny now, and asks why his damn (I said damn!) memory had to come back. Don’t we all? Anyway, he promises to honor his wholly irrational, impulsive commitment to vengeance. Juan is the classic example of an unstable character whose multiple personalities have gotten the best of him. He’s sure to win a “best actor” for this performance. So Juan relates his entire life history, or what he remembers of it, to the solitary petunia, or whatever we call that bright little flower with it’s own personality.

Sofia goes to her confidant, too. What does it tell you when these people’s only friends are dead people and magical flowers? Interestingly enough, Sofia is convinced that her father did not kill Juan’s parents. It must be true because she looked the granite straight in the eye and repeated “you are not” until she forgot what she was thinking about. As experienced and informed viewers, we can discern that Gabi’s lurking presence is indicative of her killing Juan’s parents. Not a spoiler, I’m just calling it like it is.

Who better for advice than Pad Tad and Gramps—after they’ve both been heavily medicated, of course. Gramps points out that every other hillbilly in town wears a belt like Juan’s. Nope. Juan insists that he could pick this one out of a crowd of a million. Sofia, Juan couldn’t point to his pinky on his own hand. Now, she tells the guys that it’s all over because Juan didn’t want to marry the girl whose father killed his parents. Yes, that would make the wedding reception very uncomfortable. Knowing Sofia, she’s had the seating charts memorized for months. You know how she gets when she exerts her mental capacities for nothing.

Gramps wants the truth and Gabi’s gonna give it to him. How can he be so stupid; when you ask Gabi for the truth, you get the exact opposite story. Usually you learn those things with age, but it must have an opposite effect for elderly, handicapped individuals. (I know: you hate me for saying this.) So Gabi pretends that she’s daddy’s little princess, and pulls the “If you ever want me to be happy, you’ll believe me when I say Bernie killed Juan’s parents.” Sofia, who far surpasses Gramps in stupidity, happens in on this conversation and is torn between faking a stress-induced coma for the attention, or screaming for the effect. Gabi "admits" that she was the lover of Juan’s daddy, and that’s why Bernie knocked ‘em off. One more time, through tears: Bernie killed the Robles-Reyes. Sofia and Juan are half-siblings and their kid is destined to a life just as stupid and pathetic as theirs. He or she will be a true success story if he or she gets a job at WalMart.

You have to admire Fernie’s undying spirit of good will and altruism. Who else would wait for hours on end outside public orphanages for adopting parents? (I hear it's a great place to pick up after-hours nuns.) This lovely couple was just rejected an adoption. Not to worry, Fernie’s got a million other kids stashed away in the caves. Though, you’re gonna have to come to the next town over. Oddly enough, this reminds me of the time I took a leap of faith when I entered that small Panamanian taxi in search for the supposed Zegna store. Nice tie and everything, but I will never fly into foreign countries at 1:00 in the morning again. Back to the story... No, the man dressed all in black with the smoking cigar is not evil. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. God must have sent him, says the gullible, blinded-by-hope lady.

Ah, the wedding march sounds, the brothers present the Michael Jackson suit, and Juan regrettably rejects it. He’s not getting married. But I can’t say I’d be too excited about wearing that to my wedding either; I won’t even mention the bride. It’s starting to scare me how much time Juan spends by himself. Resorting to talking to the banister, staring at bricks; soon he’ll be trying to decipher the cryptic message in the mortar. It happens to the best of us, I mean, them.

Note; I fast forwarded all the memories/flashbacks for your sanity.

Poor Juan has lost it; he can’t bake bread, he can’t dress himself, he can’t knead 10-pound loaves. Actually, strike that, he never could do any of those things. It’s time for an intervention. Counselors Oscar and Franco can barely face the reality of their brother’s situation. Juan doesn’t want to talk about it. They’ve decided that talking to Sofia will be best. Six to one, half a dozen to the other. I'm talking brain cells...

I always knew that putting Sarah Palin on the international circuit would work wonders for Sarita; is it any coincidence that they share the same name? I think not. Now she just needs to tone the look more toward constipated spinster and less toward Madonna Blonde Ambition Tour. Seems that those Michael Jackson suits have swept the town and Sofia has even accessorized one of them with her long, flowing skirt. Hey, at least we have her dressing in white again. Now, if we can get her back in the twentieth century we’ll be fit for What Not to Wear. How tender; the whole family’s here, except no one knows it. So sad that we're the only one's who appreciate the irony. It’s a special moment in which Juan observes the mother of his child with his child. I’m sure it would mean more if mommy and daddy weren’t busy seeking vengeance on one another.

Ok, those people who are adopting through the Fernie Agency of “I’ve seen better days” are morons. Who would go to Sofia’s excuse of a handicraft store looking for clothes for their brand new black-market baby? That wouldn’t happen to be one of the three that came in on Friday’s shipment, would it? asks a concerned, but reserved Sarita. No, they don’t do names or questions at those sorts of places. Oh.

OMG. So many comments so little time. Why why why do three grown men who live in a mansion still sleep in three single iron beds in the same room? Second, why the hell would Jimena be embarrassed to see Franco in his boxers; we all know she’s ridden that AT LEAST a couple of times. And, anyway, what's there to see?

Hahahaha. First, I have no idea why Juan feels the need to knead 10 pounds of dough. Second, I laughed really hard when Pablito asked what was wrong and Juan almost crushed him and mixed him in with the dough. Juan regains a little consciousness and decides that Pablito is his son now and he is always going to take care of him. After all, Juan just wants to form a huge, gigantic family. Now, why would you want to indoctrinate so many innocent children with Juan’s thoughts and behaviors? I think he has a plan to take over the city with his offspring. I don’t even want to think about children with Juan and Sofia DNA.

Sofia has another breakdown when she sees that all the kids are gone. The clueless nun tells her that everyone was adopted. Shouldn’t she be happy that they found homes for all of those abandoned children? Some people are so vindictive and selfish.

In case you care; tomorrow: There was not one damn piece of new information; I kid you not. Damn Univision. A bunch of rotten cheapskates.

Note: This episode would make great material for Maury. These people desperately need a little intervention and a few DNA tests. Title: I've got two daddies; South-of-the-boarder style

Labels: Fuego