At the very end of today's General Hospital, there were four seconds so perfect and wonderful and exciting that I applauded and made a horrendous sort of sound that was a cross between a squeal and a dog whistle*. And even though I am a born pessimist and almost immediately started to imagine a host of ways in which this could go wrong**, I really appreciated it in the moment. Truly. I'm still kvelling, a little bit***.
And oh, how I needed that. Because the 57 minutes that came before it were filled with at least three hundred thousand (I'm rounding down) moments that were rage-inducing and eyebrow raising and awful and they all revolved around Spinelli and Maxie and OH MY GOD, I HATE SO MANY THINGS.
There is very little more infuriating than watching a character who is completely and wholly guilty of [SOMETHING] being accused of [SOMETHING] and denying doing [SOMETHING] in the most strident, horrified and persecuted manner possible. "How DARE you accuse me of something that facts point to me doing for reasons that would clearly benefit you?! How dare you even VERBALIZE such a horrible and offensive and, sure, not so unbelievable on the surface BUT UNBELIEVABLE UNDER THE SURFACE, THE SURFACE OF MY EMOTIONS idea? You DISGUST ME!"
Lulu: This nutcase is lying, right?
Spinelli, ANGRILY: Yes, yes. Lulu, Brad is fabricating this story AS USUAL.
Brad: Go to hell, Spinelli.
Olivia, who is just...ugh, shut up, Olivia: You are in a church!
Spinelli: Yes, it is SHAMEFUL to be perpetuating such a horrible lie in a house of god. SHAMEFUL.
I did a full Harbaugh.
(I will never--ever!--get sick of that moment. He is a ridiculous man prone to fits of anger so immature and ridiculous that part of me thinks he needs medication and the other part of me wants to befriend him)