The Day's Dumbest Dialogue
Oh for god's sake. Okay, we've established that Days is in many ways becoming great again, after toiling for many years in the basement of daytime drama quality. Unfortunately, there are still moments of craptitude, and boy howdy did we get one today. I'm not even sure how to appropriately capture the ridiculousness of this scene, but I'll try. However, I'm absolutely positive I cannot capture Drake Hogestyn's hilariously strained line-reading, or Deidre Hall's ongoing attempt to slip some porn into everyone's afternoons, so if you missed it let's hope this baby turns up on YouTube.
[wind mysteriously develops power--previously reserved only to Satan and humans with opposable thumbs--to open french doors of penthouse, then knocks over vase] Marlena, awakened from nap that began with disturbing orgasmic-like sighs of what I hope was fatigue: John!
Creepy disembodied voice of comatose John Black: Marlena, where are you?
Marlena, now fully awake (and wearing ridiculous pajamas made for a 12-year-old): Darling, I'm here! I'm here!
Marlena: John, I'm coming! I'm coming! ::runs out to balcony, because that is apparently where disembodied voices of comatose husbands hang out:: ::moans...gasps...moans...sighs...rubs own arms "sexily":: Oh, I can feel you. I can feel you.
Marlena: Ooohhh. ::moans...moans...gasps...moans:: John? No, don't go! Don't go! John, don't go! Don't leave me! Don't go! ::extends arms as if she's going to jump/fall off the freaking balcony, which is somehow a familiar stance for her:: Don't go! Don't go!
Roman: No! ::runs out, grabs Marlena:: Dammit, it's a dream! A dream. It's okay. It's okay. It's okay.
Marlena: It's not okay. It was beautiful. It was beautiful and you spoiled it. John was here. I heard him. He came to me. He said my name.
More absolute nonsense followed, wherein what I gather was a prelude to an upcoming "Marlena and Roman - back together again? [Seriously, without Wayne Northrup?!]" story, Roman insists on staying the night so that Doctor Crazy Eyes O'Moaning doesn't heave herself off the lanai. But I can't bother to type anymore because it was that stupid and with this storyline, the one with Bonnie and her allegedly 17-year-old cowboy son wrapped up in some stupid "wacky, complete with morgue hijinx" murder mystery, Max and Mimi's continual hook-up interruptus (which is just as well, because what if they did and they had a kid? can you imagine the hair?), and Belle channeling Sam McCall on GH by crying all day, today's Days left me in a bad mood so I have to go buy some shoes to cheer up.
- Evil But Twinless