Hatred. All Caps, Italicized Hatred.
I had a terrible time starting this post because all I could say--literally, all my fingers would type--was I HATE SONNY CORINTHOS. And that just seemed a lazy start to a post, because, for starters, of course I hate Sonny Corinthos; I have ears and eyes and watch General Hospital. DUH, I hate him. And also because I have been semi-obsessively cataloging my hatred of him through this blog for the past six years. Again, DUH.
But also...isn't "hate" a little to benign a word for the feelings we felt while watching Sonny broadcast, in technicolor, what a horrible little person he is on Friday's show? I mean, there's run of the mill hate and then there's shake your fists impotently at the sky and make horrible noises because you are too filled with loathing to even string letters together to form words hate. Spend an excessive amount of time searching Urban Dictionary for the perfect scathing putdown and rejecting them all for being too pleasant hate. The kind of hate that, ironically, has you acting out just like Sonny would.
At Sonny's benefit for Pulmonary Research (tagline: "because bad things can happen to your child's lungs if they get shot, especially if you weren't the one who pulled the trigger"), Johnny showed up in the midst of his downward spiral, all tousled and sexy and looking for a fight and also, whiskey.
Sonny: Your money's not welcome here. I know, tell you what I'm going to do: for you, I'm going to give $10 million to cover our donation as well as mine.
Johnny: Sonny, your money is no cleaner than mine. Everyone in this room knows it. Isn't that true, Dante?
Sonny: Don't disrespect my son, Johnny!
Johnny: What, you can't speak for yourself, Detective Falconeri? Maybe it's true. Maybe your love and loyalty are for sale. Maybe Sonny finally bought and paid for you tonight, just like he's been trying to do since he shot you, isn't that right?
Sonny: Get him out of here.
Johnny: What, you're going to kick me out for telling the truth?
Sonny: If you choose to stay, I'll just tell everyone the truth about you.
(As ever, please imagine that each of Sonny's lines contained at least one brutally long pause, as well as a few stumbles and painful grasps for the next word)
Approximately six seconds after asking Johnny to leave, Sonny ran out of patience with Johnny, because Johnny made the fatal error of ruining a night that was supposed to be about Sonny's son and all of the other residents of Port Charles who could, in the future, benefit from new pulmonary research. And the odds are high that they WILL need such research, because people in this town get shot so often.Sonny didn't envision spending the evening defending his horrendous life choices and his criminal enterprise; he pictured himself doing little more than basking in accolades and listening with a smug smile as the rest of town gave heartfelt monologues about how selfless and wonderful he is. So he hit below the belt.
Sonny: Tonight was supposed to be MY NIGHT, but I guess Johnny's jealous because he never had a father.
Anthony: Shut up, Corinthos.
Sonny: The woman that we all know as Claudia Zacchara...the woman that I had the bad luck of marrying, is not Johnny's sister.
Sonny: She's Johnny's Mama. See, what happened is Anthony needed leverage for a business deal he was doing, so he pimped out his teenage daughter and as a result is Johnny Zacchara. I know it's sick, I know it's sad and we should pity him, but that's why he's so jealous of Dante. That's why he ruined my night.
1. "Tonight was supposed to be MY NIGHT". He actually SAID that. Because he is TERRIBLE! Here I am thinking it was Pulmonary Research's night or, at the very least, Dante's night. How wrong I was!
2. Technically, Johnny was in a grandfather-father situation, but he didn't know that; he thought he did have a father: he spent his whole hot life (really, am I the only one who thinks that Johnny is getting even hotter as he gets bothered? The poorer the decision he makes, the more attractive he becomes) thinking Anthony was his father.
3. Sonny had the bad luck of marrying Claudia? Like, he picked up a piece of paper to practice writing his signature and, oops, it turned out to be a marriage license? Shut up, Sonny.
4. That smile and the way Maurice Benard enunciated mama repulsed me.
5. It's sort of perfectly Sonny that he automatically assumes that everybody who dislikes a member of his family is a seething mass of jealousy.
The only--ONLY--saving grace to this horror show is that everyone in that room including the obviously uncomfortable extras reacted to Sonny like he was a tiny, toxic piece of wreckage. They hated him so much that they didn't feel secondhand embarrassment for the way he tried to recover from that outburst; they felt only a deep sense of glee that he was making himself look even ASSIER.
Sonny: Okay, uh...[...]I'm sorry for the, uh...[...]disruption. I hope it doesn't...just that, uh, I...I hope that everybody's willing to make a generous donation and that, uh...I'm sorry, and...uh, [with sudden cheer] have a nice evening!
Normally, I'd react to something like that by covering my eyes and watching from behind my fingers, but this time, I could only think, "Yes, Sonny, I hope you melt under the force of their withering glares".
Anthony, as you might expect, is out for blood. The man has no moral compass and has committed some depraved crimes, but he also has a way with words.
Anthony: I'm going to burn your life down, Corinthos. I'm going to make you glad to die.
Carly (!) was disgusted; Kate sickened (and self-absorbed, with that wailing she did about how she wanted to make things okay for Sonny and so on and so forth and not a single person watching even bothered to feign interest about any of it). Olivia was mildly displeased.
Olivia: Not one of your finer moments, Sonny.
Sonny: Johnny didn't leave me much choice.
Olivia: Okay, I get it. I get it! This night was supposed to be about our son and all you did was prove to Dante just how vindictive you can be.
And oh Dante, my Dante! Detective Falconeri had an impressive string of comebacks that could very well have been cribbed from Serial Drama commenters, so blunt and awesome were they.
Sonny, because antagonizing someone who already hates you is just seriously a great idea: Listen to me! Johnny's...I'm sorry he messed it up.
Dante: Johnny?! Johnny didn't mess this night up, Sonny, YOU did. You embarrassed the guy in a room full of people. Yeah, he was being an idiot but you didn't have to go there. But you know what? You did. You just proved to me that you're capable of anything. Maximum damage, Sonny.
Dante: This is supposed to be a charitable event. That's the only reason I showed up. And all you did was turn it into a mob war.
Sonny: Why can't you just listen to me, Dante?! What did I do that was so wrong? [!!!!!!--Ed.]
Dante: Why don't you ask Johnny? Why don't you ask anyone who was there tonight? You don't deliberately humiliate someone in a room full of people.
Sonny: You saw him! He was drunk! He was...[grasps at straws and, triumphantly] HE CAME AFTER MY FAMILY! What do you think I was going to do?
Dante: He was reaching for a checkbook [the "you fucking dipshit" at the end of that sentence was totally implied]
Sonny: I'm still convinced he was the one who shot you. Or Anthony. And if they get a chance to do it again, they would.
Dante: You have no proof.
Sonny: I DON'T NEED PROOF! I'M PROTECTING MY FAMILY!
Dante: I don't want your damn protection anymore! I want you behind bars, where you belong! Until that happens, you are dead to me!
SLOW CLAP, DETECTIVE FALCONERI! SLOW CLAP! Until the shooter lurking offscreen shoots at you and Sonny winds up either injured our near enough to injury that he can play hero/martyr and then you get a bad case of the guilts about this stunning piece of truth-telling. At that point, I will roll my eyes mightily, but until then, enjoy my devotion.
Speaking of characters who will wind up seriously regretting their angry words for a family member, Maxie. Maxie is an utter mess of a human being who hasn't made a good decision in months and continues to needlessly antagonize everyone she comes into contact with. The way she continues to rampage about Elizabeth's web of sex and deceit is beyond tiresome--it did, though, give me one of my favorite moments of last week when Elizabeth sweetly promised Maxie:
Elizabeth: Until I get my job back, my full-time occupation is going to be making your life a living hell.
How pure soap was that?! And the saddest thing is that you could see a million little horrible plans unfolding in Maxie's head as soon as she said it. "Yeah, you think you're going to make my life a living hell? Well, I won't give you the satisfaction. I'm going to beat you to it and make my OWN life a living hell! HAHA! SLUT!"
But that's not the sad part-the sad part was how she reacted to Robin, who was at work, declining her invitation to accompany her to the benefit and do some much needed PR on Maxie's reputation. She whined, she sneered, she played the victim...
Robin: Did you know my mom is in town?
Maxie: Wow, how nice for you that you have a mother who (A) comes to visit and (B) you want to see.
Robin: No, I'm telling you this because if I wasn't so busy with this research, I would be with my mom--
Maxie: I'm sure Anna gives you tons of advice that you love about relationships and stuff, but guess what, Robin? My mom is too busy to be bothered, so that leaves me with you.
Maxie: You really won't go to the party with me?
Maxie: Wow. I cannot believe that you are making this whole thing into some teachable moment when the truth is, Robin, you'd rather stay here and work on headache medicine for Jason.
Robin: You're not a bad person and this isn't a lost cause.
Maxie: Honestly, Robin, you're so selfish sometimes.
Since Robin is, in all likelihood, dying (or "dying") this week, Maxie is going to have to live with the fact that she's a loathsome person whose last words to her beloved cousin were all about guilting her for not dropping everything to fix Maxie's problems. Also, she's the one who causes the gas leak that might eventually kill ("kill") her--I don't know if Maxie will ever find that out or if it will just be chalked up to a random accident, but when she grabbed her handbag, she caused the leak, which says a WHOLE lot about safety and security at General Hospital.
I cannot even talk about how these are some of Kimberly McCullough's last scenes (getting sneered at and talking about Jason! What an exit!), so I am not going to. Let's talk instead about how ADORABLE Emma is.
So damn cute!
Anna: You getting hungry?
Anna: Me, too. Maybe we can just leave your mom and dad a note and we can go off by ourselves.
Emma: I want a hot dog.
Anna: Ohhh, no. Do you really? I was thinking more along the lines of a little chicken piccata, maybe some smoked salmon?
Emma: Hot dogs taste better!
She and I share the same horror at the very mention of hot dogs; I consider this a sign that Finola Hughes and I should be BFFs.
I think the pure amount of hateful behavior cataloged in this post requires even more of a palate cleanser. Let's talk fashion, shall we? Because Port Charles's best and brightest showed their support for hearts and lungs in some...in some clothes.
How amazing did Carly look?!
If I were Laura Wright, I would wear a high ponytail and red dress everywhere. To the dentist, to the library, to the grocery store...and I would give everyone a knowing, "Yeah, I'm this hot" look whenever we made eye contact.
Elizabeth's makeup was perfection.
Maggie...Maggie should not even be on this show, so I refuse to judge her fashion choices.
Nancy Lee Grahn looks divine in this shade of blue.
I can't with Olivia.
And then there's Kate, the alleged fashionista, who not only bought this dress off the rack but clearly bought it off the rack at, like, DEB.
Fashion editors all over the country should really considering filing a lawsuit against this show for the gross misrepresentation of their profession. They mightn't wear things that are everybody's cup of tea, because, you know, sometimes fashion is...not right. But to wear clothes so poorly made and clearly flammable? No, Kate. No. AND THE HAIR, OH MY GOD.