Two Whole Cakes

In between episodes, the journal entries of some of our campers appear, as if by magic, on the official Huge website. I’ve heard from a few commenters recently that these entries are written by Miz Dooley herself, and if that’s true, I suppose we can consider them canonical, if we have yet reached the point where Huge merits a canon. Is there fanfiction yet? I’m getting a fair number of Google hits from folks seeking fic, mostly “george and amber”, but as I do not read fanfiction myself I don’t know how one would go about looking for it. “Huge” being a common word, Google isn’t much of a help.

This week’s entry comes from Will, written during the Phantasma viewing. Most of it has to do with Will’s realization that Ian hadn’t read her journal, and that nothing he’d said or done since was an encoded message to her about… about feelings she might have hoped he’d been trying to share. There’s a bit about how Will once wished she could look like Amber, but no longer. And then it comes to:

“At least he didn’t read it. At least I have that. Let him think I like someone else. Or that I don’t like anyone. I’ll be his friend. Nothing’s changed. I can’t just stop hanging out with him. Maybe I could have before, but it’s too late now, I’m in too deep. I just want to be near him. No matter how bad it hurts sometimes.”

Reading this, I felt a tiny shock of recognition, palpable but thready, distant, familiar. In the dining room of the home I share with my husband, there is a cedar chest that came from my grandmother’s house, which my father kindly and at great expense shipped to me from Florida many years ago, with the writing desk that had been in my childhood bedroom for as long as I can remember. The cedar chest is piled high with books, like every other surface, but inside it holds journals and diaries going back twenty-five years, tinging them all with a musty smell which makes them seem older than they are, although they are, indeed, getting older all the time. I read that paragraph above, and then numbly, almost involuntarily, went to the cedar chest to open it, to make certain that my journals were still there.

My age has been a recurring theme in these recaps: my distance from my teenage years, my inappropriate crushing(s) on various cast members. I remember the things — songs, books, movies — that spoke to me then and none of them spoke to me as clearly as Will does here, because Will bears a marker that I bore too, one that had shaped my entire perception of myself for all of the life that I could remember, at that point. Sure, Will is a little butch, a little aggressive, a little too smart for her own good, and these were all parts of me then — but Will is also fat, and fat is an amplifer for everything else that seems to be wrong with you. If you are broken, it is because you are fat, and if you are fat, it must be because you are broken; welcome to this maze with no exit, no hope of redemption.

I continue to be surprised by how sweet the adolescent angst of the kids of Camp Victory seems to me now, seen from this vantage point, far up on a hill looking down on the battlefield. Seen in totality it is epic, immense, even beautiful. Seen in microcosm, as with Will’s journal entry, it is devastating and brutal, the difference between the political outcome of a great battle in an unending war, versus the acute pain of an individual who is losing their fight, or whose fight has already been lost. And even this, even this I can watch with a sadistic fondness: You won’t always feel so much, I tell her, in my head, as I tell my teenage self, who still stomps around bitterly in the background noise of my mind from time to time. Is it my age that makes all this seem so tender and innocent and blurry around the edges? I remember the angst, but years have made even the angst palatably savory. I wrote some time ago, in my advice to sixteen-year-olds, about the numbness that age can bring –

“You will, slowly, cease to feel everything so acutely. Pain will hurt less, but joy will be more fleeting. Injustices that once seemed outrageous and blinding will fade into the grey background noise of life. Some of you will be relieved to leave this behind; some of you will fight ferociously to chase after your enthusiasm and your rage and to not let it slip out of view over the horizon.”

I am forever chasing, and I can relate to their misery with the luxury of hindsight, of knowing it will all turn out okay for me, because it always has. There is validation in Huge, for those who have or who continue to struggle with uncertainty, insecurity, hopelessness, fear — a validation you will not find anywhere else right now. C. S. Lewis once said: “We read to know we are not alone.” This is why I watch this show; this is probably why you watch this show, and read these recaps, and this blog, and any other blogs you read, et cetera, et cetera. For company. For comradeship. For commiseration.

Previously: Twilight took a beating, Wayne built a fence, and Chloe/Trent shippers were satisfied.

Meta: If I had known what we were in for when I began this recapping extravaganza, I would have been applying an Angst-O-Meter rating to each episode from the start. As of today I shall be doing so, and will go back and retroactively rate the other eps for the sake of continuity. We’ll work on an angst-scale of 1 to 5, with 1 being on a level with Pee Wee’s Playhouse and 5 being closer to The Remains of the Day.

Angst-O-Meter Rating (1-5): 3

So Huge is taking us to church! Literally. We begin this episode with Dr. Gina leading those campers who choose to attend in a vague and nonspecific service. There’s a prayer that reads a bit like guided meditation, in which Dr. Gina tells the campers they can ask for anything, even simple things — at this point Amber whispers her own prayer for “thighs that don’t touch” — and says, “We can ask to be made kinder, for instance. To be given more of the milk of human kindness.” We get Chloe and Alistair in a tight closeup for this bit, Chloe in the foreground, Alistair, eyes closed, a row behind her.

The quiet contemplation is upended as Dr. Gina turns to see Will and Ian peering in the window. Outside, Will wants to know how ultra-religious a person has to be to go to church whilst at camp. Ian asks why wouldn’t people keep going, if they usually do so when not at camp. Huh. Good point. Ian observes that he attends services there, just not on Sunday. Will: “Oh right, you guys do it on Fridays.” Will wants to know if Ian, like, prays about stuff. He does. Unfortunately, before we can get any further on this topic, a rogue frisbee flies into the scene and both Will and Ian adopt the same ducking hands-over-head pose I tend to strike whenever someone throws something — even a readily-identifiable throwing object, like a ball — at me.

With the frisbee comes an exhortation to “THINK FAST” from Trent, who comes a-runnin’. Ian: “Oh god, my stalker.” He returns Trent’s frisbee, and Trent asks if he wants to play. Ian declines, “I’m still sore from rock climbing.” Mmm hmm. I just KNOW the underwear pillowfights are totally happening and they’re not filming them. Will thinks Trent’s budding bro-crush on Ian is cute. Ian disagrees.

Back at church, we’ve got a rousing chorus of “This Little Light of Mine” going on. Dr. Gina Torres has a marvelous voice. I’m just saying. Alas, we don’t hear much of it, as Salty Dad pulls her aside and Poppy takes over.

In Dr. Gina’s office, she is meeting with George, whom she instructs that “we have a problem.” George is all SHE LOOKED EIGHTEEN OFFICER I SWEAR until Dr. Gina explains that Shay — that’s our Jillian Michaels proxy, missing now since Talent Night — has been called away due to a family emergency. Which means someone else has to lead the camping trip, AKA “Spirit Quest”. Dr. Gina is asking George because he was an eagle scout. No kidding? Dr. Gina and I are both impressed. Also because he has a Native American grandfather, and knowing how to build a fire or dig a hole to shit in is totally genetic. George awkwardly (DRINK!) babbles his way through accepting this important task.

Moments later, he’s packing with Poppy. Poppy seems kind of sad that she wasn’t chosen to lead Spirit Quest; as George notes, Poppy has worked there longer than him, PLUS the spirit quest Poppy went on with Dr. Gina “changed my life.” As the campers prep to leave, Dr. Gina gives Poppy a cell phone for emergencies. LET’S QUEST, YOU GUYS!

As they hike, Becca explains the Questing to Will. Sort of. Will looks dubious, and Ian tells Becca: “Don’t bother, she’s already decided that it sucks.” They rest for a moment next to a stream while George and Poppy consult the thirteen pages of instructions Shay faxed to him that morning. Hilarious. Poppy thinks they should allow themselves to be carried away like fluffy dandelion seeds on a friendly wind of destiny! George wants to follow Shay’s instructions. Amber steps onto a log lying across the stream, and George reaches to steady her, telling her to be careful. Amber then helpfully knocks the thirteen pages of instructions into the water. Oops.

George panics and Poppy is philosophical: “Let go of the plan, and let yourself be guided from within!” I had an awesome friend in college of whom Poppy reminds me, though my friend was even more of a flighty hippie.

Back at Camp Victory, Wayne has returned! Yay! Dr. Gina is super-happy to see him. I think the doctor has a touch of come-here-go-away syndrome. Wayne seems as perplexed by her warm reception as I am. He’s just finishing the fence, but maybe he was more work to do, wink wink, nudge nudge.

In the woods, the Questers have finally reached their campsite. George says, “Okay, I know you guys are tired, but we should really start pitching the tents before it gets dark,” and I laughed and laughed and laughed, because I am secretly twelve. George tells them to buddy up for tent-pitching — god, these jokes are too easy — but Poppy asserts that everyone should be matched with a buddy they don’t know well, to expand their minds, or something. She pairs Becca and Chloe, Amber and Will, Trent and Alistair. HEY DOES IAN NEED A BUDDY FOR TENT– oh, damn it, he’s matched up with Dante, whom everyone but me calls by his last name.

Grumble.

Chloe and Becca awkwardly (DRINK!) begin the tent-pitching process, as Becca struggles with part of the tent. Chloe takes it from her saying, “remember?” Becca does remember, as we are treated to a flashback to last summer in which a nerdier, frizzy-haired, fatter (?) and frumpier Chloe hanging out with Becca in happier times, during last year’s Spirit Quest.

Once the sun’s gone down, Poppy wants to invite the campers to form a circle. George whispers to her, “Why don’t we just send them back to their tents?” Poppy wants to do something! The campers assemble and Poppy dubs a ladle the “talking stick”. Whoa, Girl Scout camping trip flashbacks. This one night on one of those trips, I woke up to discover the biggest spider I have ever seen hanging out on my sleeping bag, surveying my suitability as a meal, no doubt. Shudder.

Anyway, the talking ladle. Dante gets the talking ladle first, and, after first tapping it like a microphone, asks what they’re going to do now. Poppy hands the talking ladle to George, who mumbles, “We’re going to… do a thing… where we listen… to the quiet… ness… of nature.” Poppy instructs everyone to close their eyes, and the quiet…ness of nature is observed for like a second before Trent starts giggling, which sets off the fabled Giggle Chain Reaction. Poppy just rolls with it, though, observing that silence can be uncomfortable, because they spend so much of their lives surrounded by noise. George then abruptly announces that everyone should go to bed. Poppy momentarily countermands when she asks them to sit back down and instructs them to pay attention to their dreams. Then she promises them all an “experiential… experience” tomorrow. Hoo boy. George tells everyone not to keep anything edible in their tents lest the campers be turned into bear snacks.

I really dig Poppy and think George should just let her run things — obviously she has both a passion and a gift for it — but George disagrees, and tells Poppy he appreciates her help but doesn’t like that she keeps correcting him in front of “the kids”. Poppy is both hurt and frustrated by George’s recriminations, and finally tells him to do it on his own.

The next morning, Amber wakes to find Will’s hand on her face. She moves it disgustedly, only to have the sleeping Will flop an arm and leg over her. In another tent, a shirtless Trent applies deodorant. Shirt off, he’s shaped a lot like my husband. Damn it, I don’t need to think Trent is hot too. This show has burdened me with enough inappropriate crushes already. Alistair, lying next to Trent, wakes and says sleepily, “Good morning.” Marianne will love this.

Poppy thinks nature makes oatmeal extra tasty. Ian sits down next to Will and tells her he had a dream about her last night. Oh this should be good. “You were drinking out of this giant milk carton, and it was getting all over your shirt, and then I realized, it wasn’t normal milk. It was the milk of human kindness,” at this point, Will is giving him major side-eye, “and I wanted to taste it but you were like –” here we have a gesture, as of keeping a giant milk carton away from someone, “this is mine. And you didn’t give me any. And now I’m totally mad at you.”

Elsewhere, Trent finds an enormous grasshopper in his oatmeal, which Dante sensitively rescues and instructs to “go on home”. He then ruins it by getting all homophobic on Trent, asking how he’s enjoying sharing a tent with Alistair.

Poppy wants everyone to think about a new name for themselves. She asks Becca to explain, and apparently the idea is that you come up with a name that represents the person you believe yourself to be. The other campers still don’t get it. Becca says, adorably: “I have a book that explains it better.” Dante asks if he can be “banana slug” and seems genuinely stoked when Poppy says “Sure!” Alistair wants to be “Athena”, which Dante not-so-helpfully announces in a girl’s name. Alistair knows. Poppy wants them to think about their new names as they go out into the woods, and George says it’s actually about finding firewood. Make sure it’s dry, here’s a compass and map, try not to be devoured. And HAVE FUN!

Back at camp, Dr. Gina comes into the kitchen, where Salty Dad asks her to help him fill the salt shakers. Dr. Gina, uncharacteristically good-natured, corrects him: “It’s s’nalt. A salt substitute.” Salty Dad: “Don’t you mean s’nubstitute?” LOLLLL. Salty Dad asks Dr. Gina about Spirit Quest, and she explains that its purpose is to break the kids out of their comfort zones, because in your comfort zone, “nothing ever changes.”

In the woods, Becca and Chloe are alone, and reminiscing about how mean Shay was last year. They remember their chosen names from last year: Chloe’s was “pinecone”, and Becca’s was “running turtle”. In an instant, their shared laughter becomes an awkward (DRINK!) reminder of their former friendship, and their smiles evaporate.

Elsewhere, Alistair is collecting firewood while Trent kneels on the ground, checking out a mushroom. Turns out he’s looking for hallucinogenic mushrooms, and he utters the storied phrase spoken by boys nationwide at one point or another, and references his desire to “trip balls”. Sigh. He has a hand-drawn picture of the ball-tripping mushroom he seeks, which seems to me like a one-way ticket to liver and/or kidney failure.

Back at camp, Salty Dad joins Wayne in the fence-building project. Dad tells Wayne that Dr. Gina’s not mad at him, but is rather mad at his Saltiness: “Because I left, when she was eleven. Never came back. Well, here I am now, trying to be her dad.” Wayne says that’s good, and Salty Dad continues: “If at first you don’t succeed–” They exchange looks, and Wayne finishes the thought, “Try again.” I guess Wayne will be purchasing another ticket for Dr. Gina’s Wild Ride.

At the campsite, Poppy and George are alone. George returns Poppy’s phone; he’d tried to call his mom to get his Native American grandfather’s phone number, buuuuut it turns out he’s dead, which would be long distance. George thinks the Quest has failed and wants to run like hell. Poppy reads to him from the book of Native American spirituality she’s been peering at, which asserts that a strong desire to leave the Questy Location is normal, “and a sensation of insanity may take over.” Speaking of tripping “balls”.

The campers are delivering their firewood back to the campsite, and Amber promptly breaks her compass by swinging it around carelessly. Dudes, Amber is a klutz. Like I’m just realizing this now, but she is always breaking shit. Ian is there and apologizes, though I don’t think he had anything to do with it. Ian is totally going to give Amber his compass now, mark my words.

And now we see the promised trust exercises! Ugh. This particular exercise involves one camper leading their blindfolded buddy around. Most of the campers seem to be taking it semi-seriously, except for Will, who drags Amber around with little concern for her welfare, eventually causing her to trip and fall. Amber takes off her blindfold angrily and excuses herself to go to the bathroom. Poppy instructs Will to follow.

Trent is still seeking satisfaction from the magical mushroom kingdom, and Alistair fakes him out by swiping a mushroom from the campsite food supply and “finding” it with Trent. Trent is dubious, but Alistair assures him it’s not poisonous: “Just try it, and see how you feel.”

Back at Camp Victory, Dr. Gina appears all freaking dolled up in a dress, with her hair down and curly. Salty Dad is astonished. She explains she had to coach swimming today, and her hair got wet. Salty Dad: “So, this is your real hair?” Seriously, all you curly/kinky/non-straight-haired women: let your curls be curly. Your hair is awesome. There’s a knock at the door, and it’s Wayne, who is likewise floored by Dr. Gina’s transformation. “This is her real hair,” says Salty Dad, pointing, before Dr. Gina gently smacks his hand down. So Wayne and Dr. Gina are going on a date. I kind of wish we could see more of this subplot.

Evidently Amber can only pee in freaking Canada, as she and Will have been walking this whole time. Amber — after instructing Will to both stand further away and also provide entertainment by talking — finally relieves herself. What’s she using for toilet paper? As Will babbles on for the benefit of Amber’s bladder, she begins to wonder which direction they came from. OH NOES. Amber’s not sure either. “And we don’t even have a compass,” says Will. No wait, Amber does. Will: “I thought you broke our compass.” Amber: “Ian gave me his.” Shit, y’all, I heard the sizzle when that particular piece of bacon hit the pan. Will simmers for a moment before ripping the compass from Amber’s hands and throwing it forcefully into the trees. It’s an incredibly stupid thing to do, but I also understand the sheer rage with which the action is dispensed. Amber thinks they should go “this way”, and off they go, without compass or map.

Huh, a commercial for an ABC Family showing of Sixteen Candles is promoted with “See where it began for Secret Life’s Molly Ringwald.” Hey, what about Salty Dad? He was the dad in Sixteen Candles too.

Back at the Quest, George and Poppy are worried. It’s dark, and Will and Amber have yet to return. George goes to look for them. Nearby, Trent is feeling all stoned off the suggestion that he ate a hallucinogenic mushroom. Sometimes the suggestion is all it takes, man. Trent studies a pinecone (remember Chloe’s name from last year?) with meticulous wonder, and asks Alistair how he knows about mushrooms and stuff. Apparently Alistair’s parents used to take him and his sister camping all the time, “before my sister started hating us.” Trent’s all wow, man, that’s such a bringdown, and ultimately it comes out that not only is Chloe Alistair’s sister, but they’re twins. Whoa. Trent wants to know why Alistair chose the name Athena, specifically why he chose a girl’s name. Alistair: “I like the name. I don’t see why I should have to choose a boy’s name just because people expect me to.” Trent is moved: “It’s like you have this personality, that people see you as, and you start to think maybe, that is all you are.”

Poppy tells the campers she’ll let them know as soon as Will and Amber are found, but in the meantime, she needs them to get in their tents. Ian doesn’t budge from where he sits beside the campfire. When Poppy asks him to comply, Ian needs a minute, and Poppy kindly leaves him alone.

Lost in the woods, Will is basically resigned to their inevitable death, when Amber hears something. Will, referring to wild animals: “Did he say to look them in the eye, or to never look them in the eye?” It’s not an animal; it’s a car. They’ve found a road, and more than that, a diner. Will and Amber hug for a split second before recoiling from each other in embarrassment. The woman closing up in the diner is spectacularly unhelpful, and neither of the girls knows the phone number for the camp. Doesn’t 411 still exist? Will watches mournfully as the last of the day’s donuts are dumped into the trash, and observes that she’s starving.

Once outside again, Amber wants to retrace their steps, while Will argues that when you’re lost, you’re supposed to stay put. Will’s still fixated on the donuts, and Amber needs her to focus. It turns into a standoff, and Amber walks back into the woods, leaving Will alone outside the Diner. Next to the dumpster. In which the bag containing the day-old donuts has just been left.

You see where this is going.

In the woods, George wanders, calling Amber’s and Will’s names with increasing urgency.

At the diner, Will turns over a milk crate and stands on it to look inside the dumpster. She surveys the garbage anxiously, searching for the donuts, and finds them, grabbing one with what looks like coffee grounds stuck to it. Will holds the donut, conflicted, desperate.

Elsewhere, George mumbles recriminations to himself, while Will clutches her dumpster donut and begs no one in particular for help.

At Will’s age, I’d spent so much of my life in forced denial. I could not remember how it was, as it must have been at some point, to eat a meal without a constant running tally of calories and fat grams thrumming in my head. I have to this day no memories prior to my early twenties, of eating anything, ever, and truly enjoying it. Eating was a chore to be gotten through; food could not be choked down quickly enough, and the faster I ate the less I had to think about it. I have often observed that I never craved sugar in my life prior to dieting, and I only learned to eat cellophane-wrapped snack cakes and waxen candy bars as a rebellion, a revolt against the tyranny of the cupboard at home filled with blue and white Jenny Craig boxes, a mutiny upon the Weight Watchers lists. Denial breeds craving — deprivation makes us desire whatever we’re missing more and more. Will holds her coffee-ground-sprinkled forbidden donut like a trophy or a hard-won prize; she ought to be able to eat a donut, right? She ought to be trusted to take care of her own body, to manage her desires, to take pleasure in food.

But it’s wrong. The circumstances are wrong. There is no pleasure in this. Elsewhere in the woods, George sees a wolf which leads him to the compass Will had thrown in anger. Standing over the dumpster, Will sees the letters S-I-G-N on a partially-obscured milk carton and throws the donut down, angry, disgusted. At herself for dumpster-diving for food? At a culture that has put her in this position? We may never know.

In the woods, George and Amber find each other, as we knew they would. Amber rewards George with a hug and a chaste kiss; George responds by going into full-on makeout mode. After a few moments of passionate teenage kissing, George rightly observes that they should go find Will. When they do, Amber tries not to look too smug.

Dr. Gina and Wayne are sitting on the tailgate of his truck, talking — notably NOT making out — next to a pond, when Dr. Gina’s phone rings. It’s Poppy, calling from the Quest, girding herself to admit that they lost some kids. Just as she’s getting to it, she sees George and our errant campers come through the trees, and so Dr. Gina’s date gets to continue unabated. Hopefully with some makeout.

There are hugs aplenty at the campground upon their return. Let’s kill the fatted calf! Fatted, get it? Oh never mind. I think Dante calls Amber “Amburger” which is hiLARious.

Later, Trent sneaks into Chloe and Becca’s tent while Becca is sleeping. They have a sweet moment and get to kissing, and as the camera pans down to reveal Becca in the foreground, with the lovers making out behind her, she opens her eyes and looks annoyed. Welcome to my college-dorm experience, dear.

Beside the fire, George reads to Poppy from the book on Native American spirituality they’ve been sharing. Other campers sleep peacefully. Ian wakes and looks over to see Dante writing something, holding a flashlight. Fucking hell, is Ian ever adorable. I had to get that in just once in this recap, okay?

In the morning, they pack up to head back to the comparative luxury of Camp Victory. As they do so, Trent remarks to Dante, “That kid Alistair? He’s really deep.” He then calls Alistair by the name he chose, Athena, asking him for the bug spray. Trent, I’m really starting to dig you. Chloe walks by Becca and Becca seems to expect her to help, but instead she passes by and hugs Amber. This triggers another flashback: Becca and Chloe the previous summer, goofing around at the Questsite, until two handsome boys approach. One of them gives Chloe a once-over. I presume this is the second sleeping-bag shenanigan-er.

Back in reality, Will notices Becca packing up alone and volunteers to help her. Aww. Our campers walk out of the woods — wiser, kinder, less comfortable? We can hope.

Next week: um, some nonspecific stuff happens. This is a really vague teaser, right up until it shows more making out between Amber and George, which Will seems to witness. SCANDAL!

Way back in the first episode, Ian and Will first bonded, as it were, over a shared appreciation for the Pixies. Somewhere, in one of the many interviews I’ve read (the best yet being this piece in The Advocate), producer Savannah Dooley comments that while the Pixies are as good a band to bond over as any, she also had in mind that Black Francis/Frank Black is a — I don’t remember how she put it, a “big guy” or some other friendly euphemism.

I write a lot of imaginary letters to Savannah Dooley in my head these days. Typically, they go: “Dear Savannah Dooley: I love you. Thank you so much. Cheers, Lesley.” But the letter I composed after reading the above began: “Dear Savannah Dooley: That’s great. But let me tell you about Gossip.”

Previously: Amber got a hoodie from George; Alistair got blown off by his sister. Wayne the survey guy appeared and got Dr. Gina even more flustered than usual, and Will couldn’t believe Ian didn’t really read her journal.

It’s evening in the girls’ cabin, and hooray, we get more Twilight spoofery. Chloe’s reading a magazine about the alleged romance between the stars of Phantasma, everyone’s favorite vampire ghost love story. Amber is dubious, and Chloe brandishes the magazine, saying, “Look at this body language! He’s unconsciously protecting her with his arm!” I wonder if the screenwriters read Jezebel’s Midweek Madness. That’s good shit, yo.

As the girls debate the veracity of the backstage romance, Will announces that the fake RPatt is gay, which she knows because she saw him making out with a guy at a club in London. Sierra takes this badly and bursts into tears, to be comforted by Carter. I’d wondered why Carter — played by Ashley Fink, who has also played an awesome fat girl on Glee — has been MIA for a couple episodes now, so I’m glad she’s back. Amber tells Chloe she hasn’t seen Phantasma — she was supposed to go with her mom, but mom lost her job that week and they had to move. Oho! Interesting shift from the source material here; maybe Amber’s mom isn’t going to be a caricature of disability. I also like that Amber’s class difference is being explored so delicately over time, rather than us being beat over the head with it, or her being tokenized as the poor kid.

As an aside, throughout this scene Will is sitting on her bunk in a tank top, and y’all can’t even know how happy it makes me to see fat upper arms — arms that look like mine, even! — displayed without shame on television.

Elsewhere, Dr. Gina is having a counselor meeting and going over some issues. Apparently some kids are lying about having sore throats to score salt from the infirmary for gargling purposes, but which they then have the gall to put on their food. Them fatties sure are resourceful! Next on the agenda is movie night, and this year there is a No Sleeping Bag policy, as last year there were… sleeping-bag-related shenangians. As in, someone found two campers in one sleeping bag. Damn, y’all, do they make double-wide sleeping bags? I’m not being snarky here — I am honestly having a hard time envisioning how any two of these campers could fit in one standard-sized sleeping bag. Little details like this are why this show needs to hire me as a consulting producer for their second season, should a second season come to pass.

Anyway, there were shenanigans, so sleeping bags are no longer allowed. Dr. Gina also wants the counselors to keep an eye out for campers who are getting “involved”, like if they’re kissing and stuff. George is surprised and asks, “Kissing’s not allowed?” Dr. Gina: “Kissing of a prolonged nature is not encouraged.” Sadly, this exchange ends here, before we get a clear definition of how long it has to go on for in order to count as “prolonged”, and how much time must pass between kisses in order to count as a new series to be measured for prolonged-ness. Also, this bodes poorly for my constant demands that various characters make out.

Back in the girls’ cabin, Chloe is telling Amber the Phantasma backstory, and apparently that universe has a no-sleeping-bag policy as well. Next Chloe teases Amber about having apparently kept George’s hoodie since episode one, and sleeping in it every night. If Amber wasn’t seventeen, this would be a little creepy, so I guess we’re lucky she is.

Becca is writing in her journal, and Will is amazed that Becca can feel comfortable doing so after Will’s walkabout-journal incident. Becca explains that when she’s writing something really private, she does so in runes. LOL. Becca also wants to know if Will’s really going to not speak to Ian for the rest of the summer. Will assures her, “I could go a lot longer than that. I love not speaking to people.” Dudes, Will is so me at that age. It’s spooky. Becca seems to rethink the possibility of ever coming clean about having read Will’s journal herself.

In the mess hall the following morning, Ian and Alistair are in line for food, and Ian trips when he sees Will: “Confrontation makes me physically nauseous.” As opposed to mentally nauseous, which happens to me whenever I see a Jenny Craig commercial. Alistair offers to tell Will that Ian didn’t read it, as he was present during the discovery, but Ian says he’s already told her that eighteen times. She doesn’t believe him. Once they’re seated, Alistair asks the allegedly-nauseous Ian if he’s going to eat his breakfast, which seems to consist of oatmeal (potentially delicious, if it’s steel-cut, cooked from scratch, and served with a bit of brown sugar and a dash of cream) and half a pink grapefruit. I know there are people in the world who can eat grapefruit without sweetener (I prefer honey for this purpose, myself) but I am so not one of them. Indeed, just looking at the grapefruit half is making my mouth twist up. Ian has recovered enough to eat, unfortunately for Alistair.

Dr. Gina’s morning announcements include the list of possible films for viewing on Movie Night. The campers will get to choose the film from the list by voting. The selections are Stand and Deliver, “Sir Richard Attenborough’s Ghandi”, Wuthering Heights (Poppy seems excited about this), annnnd — at this point campers start shouting their suggestions, “Dreamgirls!” “Old School!” “Phantasma!”, this last met by gasps of delight — but no, the last film on the ballot is “one of my personal favorites, The Umbrellas of Cherbourg.” Becca’s too, as she claps enthusiastically. Campers, I know that wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but my opinion of Dr. Gina Torres has just gone up a notch or two. That said, it still defies belief that Dr. Gina has been doing this for five years and wouldn’t know that these choices would hardly be thilling for the kids of Camp Victory. Their ballots are under their Snalt shakers. Ian uses his to write a note to Will, which he asks Becca to deliver.

Moments later, Will is reading the note: “So, even though I no longer trust or respect you, the truth is I still really want to write a song with you, it’s not even that I want to but I need to, it’s almost like I have no choice.” Well. That’s awkwardly hot. I don’t know if we’ve yet reached the point where I need to add extra T’s to “hot”, but we’re making progress.

Speaking of hot, Wayne’s back, to build Dr. Gina a fence. Dude, you want to break down her boundaries, not build them up! Ah well. He finds her collecting the movie-night ballots, and reads one: “These choices suck.” Turns out Wayne is familiar with Dr. Gina’s favorite film. He lived in Paris: “It was either that, or finish college.” I am completely in love with Wayne. Dr. Gina, if you don’t want him, send him over here. Dr. Gina says she’s always wanted to go to France, and she came close in high school, “but I missed my chance.” Wayne asks, “You only get one chance?” Wayne gets to work on the fence, which he’s doing himself. Alone. Interesting.

Boating safety! Boating safety is important, not least because it means we get to see our campers in swimwear. Y’all don’t even know the good it does my heart to see these boys shirtless on television. I said my heart. We’re keeping things above the waist today. This is almost as good as the underwear pillowfights I’ve been demanding. Part of me wonders, at times, as to how the actors feel about being so exposed, and I hope they see how amazing and — by my reckoning anyway — how gorgeous they all are. I’m glad I saved those extra T’s because I’m going to need them all now: HOTTTTTTT. I am so into the scantily-clad fatness, y’all. It is such a fabulously normalizing thing to see.

George is demonstrating CPR on a practice dummy. Amber watches like it’s the most romantic thing she’s ever seen. He instructs the campers to take turns practicing, and, handing Dante a canister of sanitary wipes, saying, “Use these, for your own protection.” Ha. George walks off, followed by Amber. At first she says, “Hey,” softly, before remembering his deaf ear, and then barks, “George!” Cute. He smiles when he sees her. Amber wants to return his hoodie. It interests me that George’s hoodie fit her, as George is, well, kind of wee. I doubt it’d fit the death fats about.

Trent and Chloe are paddleboating — holy flashbacks to my own summer-camp experiences, Batman! — and Trent has been, like, seriously moved by Ian’s song from Talent Night. Chloe is stuck between wanting to seem interested in what interests Trent, but also clearly not really giving a crap. She changes the subject by pointing to the yellow wristband he wears, and asking whether he wears it all the time. Trent responds, “Yeah, it’s like a reminder, to never give up and keep working out until I get the body I want.” Chloe: “Shut up. You… look good.” Trent barely seems to hear her: “I really want a six pack.”

Oh, my loves, let me tell you a tale of a seventeen-year-old Lesley in South Florida, and a boy we’ll call Joey, on whom I had a massive, all-consuming crush, though he had a girlfriend who always seemed like a bit of an unpleasant bitch. Joey and I mingled in many of the same circles, and occasionally I would drive him home late at night, as he didn’t have a car. One night, I drove him home and we sat in my car in the driveway of his parents’ house, talking for over an hour; the car in gear the entire time, my foot tense on the brake pedal, afraid to put the car in park and possibly draw attention to the fact that’d we’d been sitting there talking for so long, and bring that time together to a premature close. Joey was a thick-set guy, and eventually, somehow, the conversation turned to his trying to work out more often, encouraged by his girlfriend, to get in “better shape.” I couldn’t take it anymore. I said, “I think you’re fine just the way you are.” And then I said, “I think you’re… just perfect.”

It was probably the most My So-Called Life-esque moment of my entire teenage career. Joey blushed, and simultaneously thanked me and brushed my praise away. I wasn’t done. I told him, point-blank, that I had a huge crush on him, “which I hope you’ll take as a compliment.” He did; we never dated, even after that, but I left some kind of impression, because other friends remarked on how he couldn’t stop talking about how cool I was, even months and months later. Teenagers are so reluctant with praise; as though liking something — or someone — enough to tell them so is a sign of weakness, and maybe in the teenage universe it is. But I like to think hearing that someone thinks you’re fine just as you are can occasionally be enough to help you believe it, and so I told him — and I’m telling you. Because you are fine just as you are. All of you.

Trent tells Chloe about the rumored sleeping-bag shenangians of last year, and Chloe seems defensive. It’s pretty clear to me at this point that Chloe was one half of the sleeping-embagged pair.

Back on shore, Will comes upon Ian, practicing his CPR. She can’t even look at him, and neither can I, because this is SO GROSSLY UNFAIR, HUGE, DUDE IS HALF-NAKED AND WE HAVE DISCUSSED THE JAILBAIT SITUATION, OKAY? You are fucking with me, Huge, and don’t think I don’t know it. Let’s get though this quickly, so I don’t have to feel too dirty about it: Will wants to know why Ian wants to write a song with her. Ian says, with difficulty, that he never wrote anything good before Talent Night, and the song he played there was because of her. So will she work with him, or not? Y’all, these two either need to start making out, pronto, or they need to end this scene, else I’m going to have to leave the room owing to my personal embarrassment over all the sexual tension I’m projecting into this conversation.

Oh, thank god for commercials. Whew.

Back in the girls’ cabin, Carter is telling her co-campers about her boyfriend and how wonderful he is. Sierra wants to know who in the cabin has had “complete sex”, by which I assume she means penis-plus-vagina intercourse, the fin de siècle of the sexual-contact ladder (for a thorough investigation of the nebulous concept of virginity, allow me to direct you to Virgin: The Untouched History, by my brilliant friend Hanne Blank). Carter raises her hand without hesitation, and everyone looks expectantly at Chloe, who immediately claims to be a virgin. Amber: “I thought you did everything but.” Chloe: “So? That doesn’t count.” Well played, Huge.

Becca and Will are sitting on the floor in the bathroom, while Will rambles on trying to sort out what Ian’s wanting to write a song with her actually means. Becca tries to provide input, but Will is sort of panicked and not listening. Finally Becca gives up: “I have nothing to add to this conversation.” Oh hey, the girls’ cabin does have a private shower.

Dr. Gina finds Salty Dad in the mess, who is reading a magazine called “OMG!”, which is hilarious. As she enters, he announces: “That Lady Gaga sure works hard at whatever it is she does. I just hope she has people looking out for her.” I kind of love Salty Dad. Dr. Gina asks Dad for some iced tea to take down to Wayne. Who’s here. Building a fence. Dad is smart enough to see the signs here, and tries to get Dr. Gina to see them too: Wayne liiiiikes you. After all, says Salty Dad: “He’s a man, and you’re beautiful…” Dr. Gina is pleasantly astonished by this compliment, and for once we see her as a little more self assured. She thanks Salty Dad for the iced tea — “and for everything” — and heads out to deliver it to Wayne.

Wayne is putting in the fence posts. As she approaches, Dr Gina says: “You work fast,” to which Wayne replies: “That’s because everything I do is dangerously shoddy.” That even wrenched a laugh out of my husband. Dr. Gina hands him the thermos of iced tea and says, “It’s unsweetened, but I can get you some Stevia.” Wayne shakes his head definitively: “I’d rather lick money.” Oh my fucking god, Wayne, you are a treasure. I too will gladly take an unsweetened beverage over an artificially-sweetened one any day. Dr. Gina looks bewildered and aghast.

Wayne asks which movie won, and tells Dr. Gina not to be surprised if there’s a huge write-in vote for Phantasma. Dr. Gina says she wouldn’t ever choose that for her kids, and Wayne asks if she’s seen it. He saw it with his daughter, and thought it was kind of fun. I only saw the first Twilight a few months ago, and if I’m honest I did find it weirdly compelling. Oh, and Wayne’s divorced. Like in case you wondered. Then he asks if Dr. Gina knows that tea was discovered by accident. I really, really love the depth they’re giving this character — we’re never allowed to stereotype him as the caricature working-class guy. As Dr. Gina, conflicted as ever, leaves, she turns to look back in his direction, just in time to see him take off his shirt and reveal a round belly.

In the rec room, the campers are doing recreational things, while Poppy counts the Movie Night votes. Trent discovers a disused drum set in a corner before Dante calls him over for some unknown purpose. George joins Poppy and gets more information about the sleeping-bag shenangians, which apparently were more involved than Dr. Gina knows, as Poppy was the one who discovered them. She says the boy was “popular” and the girl “innocent”, and, “You just feel so protective of these girls, you know? They’re so young.” George seems to be thinking about his protective feelings.

In the boys’ cabin that evening, we get a close-up of someone doing a blood glucose check, using one of those handy meter things. It’s Dante. We’re presented with this without any further comment. That’s kind of amazing, and, again, normalizing: some people have diabetes, some do not. Dante asks Trent about his situation with Chloe; Trent says they’ll probably hook up again, because she’s hot. (Alistair is knitting in the background during this, which is awesome.) Dante ponders who he might hook up with. George observes that it’s wrong for them to put “pressure” on the girls, and Trent tells him the girls put pressure on them too. George tells the boys they have to be responsible. Oh right. That’ll do it.

Trent tells Ian about the drum set he found, and offers to play with him, like, if he wants to. This awkward courtship is interrupted when someone notices, “Hey, there’s a girl out there,” and everyone’s excitement wanes when they realize, “It’s just Will.” OH, it’s not a REAL girl. Ian goes outside and they talk about the hypothetical song they’re going to write. Ian wants it to be a love song, but not something “cheesy”. I want them to make up. I mean out. I want them to make out.

Argh, foiled by commercials! Curse their oily hides!

The next day, Wayne is finishing up the fence, and when Dr. Gina appears his face brightens. He points out some forget-me-nots, and quotes Longfellow on the subject. Okay, Wayne is seriously hot. He has also brought her a copy of Phantasma on DVD, just in case. Dr. Gina, of course, has to go ahead and make a shit show out of everything, by rambling on about sending the wrong signals and she’s sort of basically not sure what the hell is going on. Wayne gets the message, and immediately cools and tells her he’s left her an invoice. She seems relieved. Dr. Gina is an idiot. This scene is so well-composed, with Wayne and Dr. Gina standing on opposite sides of the new fence, staring at each other through the chain link.

Will puts on lip balm — hee — and heads out to meet Ian to work on their song. She approaches him from behind and hears him singing, something about blue eyes and yellow hair. Will immediately turns and runs off, unseen.

Back in the girls’ cabin, preparations are ongoing for Movie Night. Chloe asserts that “if you know a guy is going to be feeling you up, that affects your choice of bra.” This is actually true, or at least it’s true when that guy isn’t yet your husband. Amber is subtly stressing over who she’ll sit with, since it’s clear Chloe will be sitting with Trent.

Movie Night! This whole sequence had my husband laughing, as it’s so clearly shot day-for-night with a blue filter. That, or the moon is in the process of plummeting to earth over Camp Victory. Chloe finds Dante and asks him to sit with boyfriendless Amber. Will and Becca are seated already when Ian appears to ask Will what happened with working on the song that day. Oops, Will was busy. Ian sees Amber, who hasn’t found someplace to sit yet, and strategizes: “I just need to get near her, without being too obvious.” Will’s face registers, with certainty, that he really didn’t read her journal. When Ian asks, “What about you, anyone you want to sit with?” Will says, more to herself than anyone else, “You really didn’t read it.” Ian’s all what? no, and is still focused on Amber. Damn, Ian is thick. Like, in the head. Will basically shoos him away to try to sit with Amber. That dry crunching noise you hear is my heart breaking for Will.

Will is not the girl that boys want to make out with, or crush on, at least not at this age. There is no mystery, no feminine wiles, no untouchable unknown. Straight boys of that age are intoxicated by the foreignness of the feminine, the other. I may think Will possesses a hotness of sun-dwarfing proportions but she is not a pretty girl, not like Chloe or Amber — she doesn’t wear makeup, doesn’t faithfully reproduce the trappings of femininity, doesn’t resemble the beauty these boys have spent a lifetime learning to admire. Even the nerdy boys, the ones you’d think would give the non-girly-girls a chance: even they’ve absorbed that necessity. This is what you want, a girl who reads magazines, knows how to apply eyeliner, and follows the rules. How many teen movies feature a plot in which the geeky or awkward or subcultural or tomboyish girl only gets the attention of the guy she likes after some kind of makeover event which brings her into line with established notions of femininity? All of them? Nearly all? It’s a shit situation for everyone involved: the boys chase after chimeras that don’t really exist, and the girls adopt behaviors and attitudes that may not come naturally to them, and nobody wins by it.

Ian’s efforts are foiled by Dante, who gets to Amber first and offers her blanket space, as he’d promised Chloe. Ian, frustrated, angry, leaves to work on his song, no longer interested in the movie.

Commercials. It’s nice that Joey Lawrence is working again.

The assembled campers settle in for the movie. Carter winds up beside Dante. Alistair joins Becca and Will. The DVD starts, and it’s Phantasma, much to the joy of the audience. Let the dry-humping begin! Chloe looks on the verge of losing it, as she’s alone, and Trent is nowhere to be found.

Trent has skipped out to hit on Ian in the rec room. Ian is irresistible to all sexes! No, actually, Trent just really really really wants to play music with Ian, which is kind of adorable: “I wish I could do what you do. Just… make something, out of nothing.” Ian’s initial irritation fades and he tells Trent, “Anyone can be creative. You just need to find your medium.”

Back at the movie, the Phantasma/Twilight spoof is hilariously awful. Chloe gets Alistair’s attention by throwing pebbles at him. He sneaks off to join her, and she wants to know whether Trent knows it was her in the fabled sleeping bag of teen sex last summer. Alistair didn’t know! I knew! The guy apparently didn’t come back this year. Chloe says he was popular, and, “when we got together, I got to be part of his group. We both got something out of it.” Well. That’s a diplomatic way of putting it.

Dr. Gina, sitting at the back of audience with Salty Dad, opens Wayne’s invoice, and finds a forget-me-not inside. Dr. Gina, I am rapidly losing patience with you. She is stunned and gets up to leave, claiming she’s tired, dropping the flower as she goes. Amber sees Poppy and George whispering and laughing and gets up to leave as well. And then Carter and Dante start making out, which would be awesome as I dig their characters so much, except, uh, Carter has a boyfriend. Finally the movie affects Will enough that she starts writing furiously in her notebook.

George collects discarded popcorn bags and finds Dr. Gina’s dropped flower. He returns to sit with Poppy and says, “There is so much angst going on here.” Poppy: “You mean in the movie, or here?” George: “Both.” Poppy gestures at the movie and says she can’t ever imagine feeling like that. George asks if she means, like, being in love, and Poppy drops a giant bomb on us all by saying, “Basically I identify as asexual.” Well, shit on me, y’all. Will this show ever cease to surprise me? Poppy says she kept waiting to feel what other people felt, and just never “got there”. This is awesome times a million, and I’ll tell you why: I’ve had many wonderful friends, both in my teens and later, who identified as asexual, and who had to deal with this concept being essentially invisible to most people, or worse, thought of as pathological or frigid. What this show is doing, again and again, is attempting to drag out these unfamiliar ideas to the light of day and make them normal. It takes George about ten seconds to go from “what?” to “okay,” and that’s how this should work out all the time. Having a character identify in this way is validating and normalizing for those kids — and adults. “Dear Savannah Dooley: I love you. Thank you so much. Cheers, Lesley.”

George realizes that one of Poppy’s “girls” is missing. He knows it’s Amber, but doesn’t say so, and volunteers to go find her.

Chloe comes upon Trent and Ian jamming together in the rec room and watches from outside, until Trent sees her and wonders why she’s there. Out he goes, and insecure Chloe is looking for validation: “Do you even like me?” Trent: “Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be a one-time thing–” Chloe: “I just want… what you want.” Oh hey, did you hear that? That was the sound of millions of feminists nationwide groaning in unison. When Chloe and Trent kiss, it’s like one-tenth the hotness of Dante and Carter. I think it’s because the latter two are fatter. Ian looks on, open-mouthed, as Trent and Chloe kiss outside the window. Oh Ian, if it was still 1995, I’d make out with you.

George finds Amber, and they sort of awkwardly stare at each other while the movie dialogue plays in the background. George says of the movie, “I’m watching this thinking, why doesn’t she just date a normal guy, save herself the trouble?” Amber responds, “If he was just alive and she could kiss him anytime, maybe she wouldn’t want him so much.” GUYS GUYS I JUST GOT IT! IT’S LIKE A METAPHOR FOR GEORGE AND AMBER! Apropos of nothing, George gives Amber the forget-me-not. And then practically runs away.

Will finds Ian and throws her lyrics at him, saying she got “inspired”. Ian needs her to stay because he can’t read her handwriting, and they awkwardly try to work out the melody. Hey, I’m instituting a Lesley’s Huge Recaps Drinking Game — every time I call something “awkward”, you drink. Okay? Eventually Will has to take over and it’s fabulous to hear her sing, even if it’s just a little bit. Ian loves it and relates to it. Will says, “You could get a lot of tail with this song,” and Ian laughs. It doesn’t seem to be working out that way for you, Will. MAKE. OUT. No, instead Ian puts him arm around Will and they walk off together as Ian says, “Oh Rader, love is a nightmare.”

Next week: The campers go on a camping trip. This sounds redundant, but it’s with tents and “trust exercises”. That should go well.

Previously on Huge: Dr. Gina Torres doesn’t eat after dinner. A muffin mysteriously disappeared. Chloe’s got a girl boner for Trent. Will reluctantly wrote in her Camp Victory journal.

It’s nighttime. Amber and Chloe are in the cabin rehearsing a dance routine to Sir Mix-a-Lot’s famous anthem for ass, “Baby Got Back”. It’s cute, but before we go any further, I would like to note that “Baby Got Back” is not really the pro-fat-girl rallying cry a lot of folks seem to take it to be. The whole “itty bitty waist” line is pretty damning on that front. That said, having many fond memories of talent shows from my own youth, watching them rehearse is sweetly nostalgic. Chloe describes one movement as “step step down, Beyonce hand.” I LOLed. Becca is watching them from behind a copy of The Diary of Anne Frank, which is certainly right up there with Dandelion Wine on my list of light summer reading. Oh, but I kid: I love that Becca is reading a different book every single week.

In the bathroom, Sierra is crying to Poppy that her talent show partner has ditched her. Poppy, the lovable optimist, tells her to ask if she can join Amber and Chloe’s act. Like it’s unthinkable that they would say no!

Back in the cabin, Chloe is trying to figure out where she should stand based on a) which side her butt looks better from, and b) where Trent will be sitting. She tells Amber to switch places with her so Chloe can showcase her good side. Amber asks, “What about MY good side?” and Chloe responds: “You have two good sides. I have none.” They exchange no-ways for a moment before Will butts in: “Can we skip the nightly ‘who’s fatter’ contest?” Amber informs her they’re having a “private conversation” and she and Chloe leave to practice outside.

As Will collects her laundry, we get an unexpected comment from Becca about how Chloe has changed. Apparently Becca and Chloe were close friends the summer before, but, “I guess it turned out I wasn’t cool enough.”

Hey, hands up: who had a friendship at this age that went suddenly and inexplicably bad? Like you couldn’t figure out why, or what happened, but you were friends and then you weren’t. This experience destroyed me markedly less in high school than it did in middle school, where I felt it from both sides. I was close friends with a girl named Stephanie in sixth grade, and then in seventh grade I wasn’t. Stephanie was tall and gangly. She was adopted, and her parents had an elaborate contemporary house — the kind of thing you’d see in Dwell today — filled with modern furniture that I now know cost a fortune. She had two cockatiels and a collection of bettas all in separate little fishbowls, and she was trying to get them to reproduce. This is how I learned that betta foreplay is violent as hell. Her father kept a gun in an unlocked drawer under the built-in wet bar downstairs, which Stephanie showed me once.

I made the mistake of smiling at Stephanie in the hall at school one day, after the collapse, which elicited an enraged phone call that evening, in which she demanded to know why I had stopped being her friend. I had no answer. I wonder if today she describes me as a callous bitch to her therapist. I wasn’t trying to be cruel, I just… couldn’t be her friend anymore. I was myself ditched as a friend far more often than I did the ditching, but I remember this more.

When Becca says, “It’s like our friendship never existed,” I cringed. Because Stephanie said the same thing to me.

Outside, Chloe explains to Amber that those bitches are just jealous haters. See, last year Chloe was “like a size 18”, and “the more weight I lost, the more girls here started to hate me. It’s normal.” This last bit is flippant, “whatever”. Chloe isn’t here to make friends — Chloe is here to win. Sierra comes out and asks if they need more people. Amber perkily says, “Sure!” but Chloe immediately says no, it’s enough of a task to get the dance right between the two of them. Ouch. Poor Sierra.

Good morning! We’re at breakfast. Dr. Gina is doing her morning announcements, and reminds everyone that it’s not too late to get in on the Talent Night action. Will, sitting with Ian and Becca, announces to the table, “My talent is fun-sucking. I can literally suck the fun out of any situation.” Ha. Is it any wonder that I so relate to Will? Dr. Gina suggests some talents that might be applicable, and mentions that Salty — that’s her dad — knows how to do magic. Salty responds with what I presume is now his catchphrase, “No seconds.”

Shay sits down at a table with George and Poppy and says, “This popover worries me.” It’s a great line. I am occasionally disturbed by scones, myself. Shay says that she’d found Dr. Gina a great chef — “I lost weight just smelling her food,” — wait, how does that work? — but Dr. Gina went with the Popover King. So none of the employees know that Salty is Dr. Gina’s dad, then. Jillian Michaels Superstar is dubious that the food is actually low-fat. Food that is tasty and enjoyable is morally wrong! I’m guessing Shay’s not much of a cook. Or much of an eater, at that. She announces that she has to say something to Dr. Gina about the food situation, leaving her popover behind.

Oh, and by the way? This week’s episode was directed by Eric Stoltz. I am quite aware of the extent of his work before and since, but seeing him always makes me think of him saying, “The day that I bring an ODing bitch over to YOUR house, THEN I give her the shot,” in Pulp Fiction.

At the cool kids’ table, they’re describing foods from home. Dante talks about this concoction he makes which involves putting ice cream in the microwave.

Becca wants Will to do her Dr. Gina Torres impression for talent night. Will agrees, and then begins distractedly digging through her bag, and she ultimately runs out of the dining-cabin without a word, leaving Ian and Becca bewildered. Becca asks Ian if he’s doing something for Talent Night, and he says he’s trying to write a song. I vote for a cover of The Replacements’ excellent “Talent Show”, but sadly I cannot text in my suggestion. Also this is prerecorded. Anyway. Ian has only written two and a half songs in his life, “and I hate both of them.” I don’t know, man — odds are good in ten years you’ll look back on those songs and be impressed by how much they don’t completely suck. But oh, this is the way of teenagers.

In Dr. Gina’s office, her dad mentions that he made the popovers with olive oil instead of margarine. “It’s a good kinda fat,” he days. PREACH IT, DR. GINA’S DAD. Dr. Gina tells him that the guy who runs the Tennis Douchebag Camp from last week has hired a land surveyor to determine who the land in question really belongs to. Dad picks up an old picture off Dr. Gina’s desk and remarks that he doesn’t have any childhood pictures of her — her mother kept them all. Aw. Sad.

Suddenly there is a frenzy of athletic knocking at the door. Of course, it’s the Jillian Michaels Maschinenmensch. She enters, ostensibly to complain about the delicious and satisfying meal she’s just eaten, but is startled to see Salty standing there. Then Dr. Gina gets a phone call and exits the room, giving Salty an opportunity to intimate to Shay that he is Dr. Gina’s father (“Search your feelings, you know it to be true!”) in a roundabout way. Shay’s machine-brain accepts this information and she wisely decides against an anti-popover tirade in favor of telling Dr. Gina that Will plans on doing an impression of her for Talent Night.

After Shay has left, Salty asks if Will is the girl who likes basketball. Dr. Gina says, her frustration clear: “I have no idea what she likes. Except being overweight.” In a slightly mocking tone: “‘My fat is my BFF.’” Oh, Dr. Gina, why do I get the impression that you will learn as much from your campers as they learn from you?

Back in the girls’ cabin, Will is tearing shit apart looking for her journal. I daresay her cabinmates are going to be a little peeved.

Commercials. Oh yes please, let me fork over $12 to watch Julia Roberts be self-effacing and uncharmingly hyper-privileged as she travels the world eating “carbs” and trying to find herself in Eat Pray Love.

Hey, the survey dude is outside Dr. Gina’s office. Dr. Gina is trying to be all mean and stern. “Yes, you’ve left me quite a few messages, Mr. –” Survey Guy: “Wayne.” Dr. Gina: “Mr. Wayne. Yes, I –” Survey Guy: “Wayne is my first name.” Dr. Gina: “I see. Well I couldn’t return your –” Survey Guy: “I’m not Batman.” Dr. Gina and Dad look at him quizzically. “Isn’t that Batman’s last name?” Dad joins in: “Bruce Wayne, yeah.” Dr. Gina: “– to return your messages because I have my own camp to run.” This whole exchange made me laugh and laugh. Dr. Gina doesn’t want to let Wayne walk the property line (because you’re miiiine, I walk the property liiine), so Salty Dad suggests she walk it with him.

In the laundry room, Alistair sets the popover he’s saving from breakfast on a shelf and instructs Ian not to touch it. Instead, Ian spots someone’s journal lying nearby. Against Alistair’s protestations, Ian opens it, ostensibly to see who it belongs to. He reads a few lines of a poem out loud and seems moved by them, but before he can go any further, Alistair takes the journal from him to deliver it to lost and found.

Our Frankensteinian Jillian Michaels is barking orders at what looks like a Tae Bo class. Man, I used to have those Billy Blanks videos a million years back. There were VHS tapes. It was that long ago. Will comes in late, and shakes her head no when Becca asks if she’s okay. Alistair follows, popover in hand. Shay sees his Popover of Evil and orders him to get it out of her sight. Alistair complies by stuffing the whole thing in his mouth. Seems a shame that he should save it and not get the chance to actually enjoy eating it, but I’m not sure why he brought it to class in the first place. I suspect that exercising with a popover in hand would do no good to the popover.

Meanwhile, Dr. Gina is walking briskly with Wayne the Survey Guy, who needs to take a break. Breathing hard, he leans against a rock. As she waits for him to catch his breath, Dr. Gina mentions that Salty his her father, and Wayne says he figured as much. Dr. Gina is truly surprised and wants to know how he could tell. “Well, at one point, you both had your hand over your mouth like this,” demonstrating the gesture. There’s something both reassuring and discomforting about realizing the ways we unconsciously mimic our parents, and Dr. Gina’s expression is conflicted.

After Tae Bo, Will and Becca sit together. Will is despondent over her missing journal. She says “nothing good can ever happen to me,” and notes that she has “a twisted gift” for fucking shit up. When Alistair cheerily appears, Will interrupts him to announce bitterly, a la Amber in the opening scene: “This is a private conversation.” Poor sad Alistair walks away. Becca looks wounded.

Chloe and Amber come upon Dante and Trent lifting weights in, like, a picnic area. Weird. Chloe starts to explain that they’re doing a dance to “Baby Got Back” and think it would be improved if they had a guy to rap it for them. Dante immediately jumps in with “Okay!” but no, it’s Trent that Chloe wants. Poor Dante. Amber helpfully suggests that Dante could take pictures, so Chloe runs to get her camera. As she comes back, Trent invites Amber to square off with him, and she punches him a few times on the arm. He tells her to kick and she does — hitting Chloe’s camera, which falls and breaks. Oops. Chloe’s response is an awkward and dismissive, “Oh, I’ll just ask my parents for a new one!” She tells Amber they’ll use her camera, to which Amber stammers, “I — I lost mine.” Y’all, I have a feeling Amber doesn’t have a camera.

Down by the old toolshed, Wayne the Survey Guy is cheerfully schooling Gina on the historical origins of surveying. I like this dude! Dr. Gina is not real impressed. Loosen the fuck up, lady. Wayne says that this is her property, but it needs to be clearly marked as such with signs or a fence or something, otherwise it falls under common use. Dr. Gina is typically annoyed and tense. Man, I hope her character does some arcing soon, because she is really starting to bore me.

Will and Becca are walking and Will is still freaking out. See, her name’s not on the journal, but she’s worried anyone who read it would be able to figure out it’s hers, based on things she’s written. Dude, what the hell is in this journal? The third secret of Fatima? The eleven secret herbs and spices in Kentucky Fried Chicken? I expect it’s mostly: “I like Ian but he doesn’t know I exist. WOE ANGST EMO.” Will looks truly vulnerable for what is possibly the first time since we met her. Becca assures her they’ll find her journal.

When Will’s and Dr. Gina’s paths cross, Dr. Gina awkwardly tells Will she’s heard that Will intends to do an impression of her at Talent Night. Once Will vanishes, Dr. Gina asks Wayne if she sounded like she didn’t want Will to do her impression. Wayne’s all, yeah, kinda. Then Wayne drops more knowledge on us: in ancient Babylonia, “talent” was a measure of weight. That’s totally awesome. Wayne thanks Dr. Gina and they shake hands. I’ve decided that Dr. Gina and Wayne should date.

The next scene is this totally gratuitous bit in which Amber tries to make it seem like Trent broke Chloe’s camera because he gets “nervous” around her, but Chloe’s all uh no, whatevs, “I’m over it.” The gratuitous part is that they are both in swimsuits, walking around a pool filled with other swimsuit-clad fats. I want to go on the record as being totally on board with gratuitous shots of fat bodies in swimwear.

Becca is wandering around looking for Will’s journal, when she is accosted by Shay, who wants to know why she’s not swimming with the other campers. Becca improvises and tells Shay she is on her way to rehearsal for Talent Night. When Shay asks what she’s performing, Becca blurts, “Baby Got Back”. Uh oh.

Amber and Chloe are digging through the lost & found bin looking for Amber’s nonexistent camera. Naturally, they find Will’s journal — Chloe looks at it and says, “The writing looks like a guy’s. You can barely read it.” Suddenly Becca appears from nowhere — WONDER WOMAAAAAN! (who else wants to see Becca in a Wonder Woman costume?) — and grabs the journal out of Chloe’s hands. Becca disgustedly berates them both for daring to read someone else’s journal, and stomps away, kicking the lost and found stuff in all directions as she goes. Damn, Becca. Amber is traumatized, but Chloe is distracted by finding what she thinks is Amber’s camera. “This is it, right?” Chloe asks triumphantly. “Yeah,” Amber lies.

Back in the empty cabin, Becca puts Will’s journal on her bed. Then she stares at it. And stares at it. And stares. And then she reads it.

Commercials: I love the hamster “You can get with this” Kia Soul commercial so much — almost as much as I despise the Six Flags guy. YOU’RE NOT FUNNY.

In the cabin, Will’s back and is unbelieveably grateful that Becca found her journal. So grateful that she hugs Becca! Wow, physical affection! Aw. I bet Becca feels really guilty right now. Later, Ian and Will play ping pong in the common room, while Becca half-watches. Will is back to her normal self, and they chat about their respective Talent Night performances. Becca goes to leave, and when Will asks if she’s okay, Becca says, “Yeah. I just have to rinse out my bathing suit because, you know, swimmer’s itch.” That might fall under TMI, Becca. Just saying. Ian responds: “That’s gross.” Meanwhile, Alistair has found the magic set and leaves with it, saying, “I’ve got magic to do.” Hee.

Dante, Chloe, Trent, and Amber are all squashed together on the couch in front of the TV. They’re not squashed because they’re fat; they’re just sitting really close together for some reason. Dante is still selling himself as the Mix-a-lot stand-in, based on his actual stated positive interest in big butts. Chloe tells Dante to shush, because the show! is! starting! What’s the show? The voiceover begins: “Fifteen large and luscious ladies, all stuffed in one supersized villa! Who will find the love of their dreams, and who will be sent packing? It all — happens — now!” Then a fat guy in a suit appears and asks: “Will you accept this ring?” The show is called “Love Handles”, and the O in “love” is a donut. Oh hell, just watch it:

GUYS GUYS TO SAY I LOST MY MIND HERE IS A PROFOUND UNDERSTATEMENT. For my newer readers: almost exactly one year ago, I began my first recap experiment — I recapped More to Love, an exercise in absurdity, hilarity, and horror, also known as The Fat Bachelor, and known to readers of this blog as Fat Chicks Crying. Recapping that series was so much fun that I have secretly longed for a second season. To see it spoofed on Huge — replete with the famous shots of fat chicks both eating and with tears streaming down their faces — is surreal in the extreme. Remember the Room of Requirement? Lukemail? ROLLLLSSSSSS? Danielle’s frozen banana? Heather puking all over the boat? Bitch Lauren? Oh, I loved/hated Bitch Lauren. If you have several hours to kill, I do recommend going back to read them — I have never been able to improve upon those recaps, as I’ve yet to meet another series with such a perfect mingling of the absurd and the mock-able.

In the boys’ cabin — incidentally I BELIEVE I ORDERED SOME UNDERWEAR-CLAD PILLOW FIGHTS, what up, Huge? — Alistair is practicing his magic act, and Ian wants to know why he can’t write something good. It’s because you’re seventeen. It’s okay, you’ll grow out of it. And one day, in your thirties, you’ll mourn the loss of the passion and drive that enabled you to write things you hated at seventeen. C’est la vie. Trent and Dante come in with a plan for Talent Night — Dante will be the bachelor from “Love Handles” and the other guys will be the girls. Dante proceeds to do a bang-up imitation of Luke’s stoner drawl. Dante, I heart you. Trent approaches Ian to invite him to join their skit, but Alistair tells him that Ian is performing “an original song”. Trent proceeds to be a total jerk to Alistair whilst telling Ian the invitation is open.

And now we come to the second mind-blowing event of this episode. Dr. Gina says, “So a few days ago I had an unplanned snack. It was a muffin, of course, and I’m having a hard time letting it go.” We see her in a tight closeup, and I’m thinking, “unplanned snack”? What? “A muffin, of course”? Is this a muffin-intervention program? As Dr. Gina goes on to ramble about working with her father, he camera pulls back to reveal a large group of people sitting in chairs arranged in a circle, and holy shit, Dr. Gina is at an Overeaters Anonymous meeting. In case it’s not super clear, she then mentions talking to her sponsor, who asked if she owed an amends. Totally OA. Fuck me, y’all, I did not expect this. Can we safely assume that Dr. Gina has an honest-to-goodness eating disorder now?

In the boys’ cabin, the lack of pillow-fighting persistently continues, and Dante and Trent are discussing Trent’s “options” with regard to Chloe and Amber. See, Chloe is like, “available”, but Amber is super hot. When George comes in, Dante asks for his opinion, and when George says he’d go with the girl that he already knows likes him — that’d be Chloe in this scenario — Dante says, with a perfect dose of earnest sarcasm, “That’s such good advice. Will you be my dad?” Dante, I super super heart you. “I’m serious, my dad left when I was thirteen –”

We don’t get to hear the rest of Dante’s sad story because we have joined Ian and Alistair in the bathroom, where they are both messing with their hair. Ian says, quietly: “Sometimes I can’t comprehend this is what I really look like.” Dude, you and me both. I wouldn’t have believed I could find jailbait so freaking attractive, so it seems we’re both learning things about ourselves this summer.

Oh hey, Wayne the Survey Guy is back with some “No Trespassing” signs for Dr. Gina’s property line! He should stay for Talent Night.

Back in the girls’ cabin, Chloe is telling Amber a really disturbing story: “So my mom goes, ‘Look at you, you look dead. Put on some lipstick.” And I’m like, ‘Mom, I’m ten, I don’t own a lipstick.’” She shares it like it’s funny and cute. Yikes. Then Chloe demands that Sierra take their picture, with the found camera that supposedly belongs to Amber. If you can’t see where this is headed, you don’t watch a lot of formulaic TV. OH HAY it’s Sierra’s camera, which has been missing since the first week of camp. She can prove it because there’s a unicorn sticker on the bottom put there by her little sister. Ruh roh. Amber says, weakly, “Sorry, it looked like mine!” But nobody is buying it, least of all Chloe.

It’s evening, and Ian is walking toward the cabin where Talent Night will ostensibly be taking place, carrying his guitar. He gets as far as the door and then turns around to leave, but is stopped by Will. OH AWESOME YOU GUYS SHOULD MAKE OUT. No, dammit, Will wants to talk. Ian’s “not in the mood” and so he doesn’t want to play his song; he doesn’t know anyone there, really. Will says, “Well, you know me. Just… play it for me.” MAKE. OUT.

Argh, I am foiled by the cutaway: Talent Night is about to begin. Wayne the Survey Guy enters and sits down. Limited Edition 12-inch Jillian Michaels Clone Trooper Figure is there as well, with her hair down for the first time ever. Dr. Gina introduces Talent Night and things get underway with Sierra performing with Poppy, in the absence of her original partner. Outside, Chloe has sussed out that Amber lied, and Amber says as much. Chloe just wants to get through the performance, but Amber can’t deal, and leaves. Chloe’s response is to literally fling herself at Trent for support, and he awkwardly obliges. Haha, straight boys are so very slow-witted.

George announces “Baby Got Back”, and nothing happens for a minute. Then Shay notices Becca in the audience and orders her onstage for “her number”. Becca reluctantly gets up, not wanting to admit that she’d lied, and she is joined by Dante, who it seems will get his chance to express his admiration for the large ass. I love this already. Becca works that shit out for real, including some high kicks and a split, and Dante gets as far as “the butt you’ve got makes me so horny” before the needle comes off the record and he and Becca look at each other with that sublime youthful awkwardness in the face of sex, which one can never recapture. The crowd goes wild, and it’s adorable, and now I kind of want Dante and Becca to make out. All I get, though, is Trent and Chloe kissing in the background, which is not that thrilling because we all kind of knew it was going to happen.

Alistair is on, and he screws up a trick because he’s looking for his sister. When he sees Chloe lovingly applying lipstick to Trent — it’s for his skit — he is immediately distracted. When the crowd boos and heckles, he switches to comedy. Nice save. Finally we see the “Love Handles” skit — a spoof of a spoof! — and it’s funny in a teenage-boys-in-drag sort of way. Incidentally, there is a purple-clad deathfat in the front row of the audience who is absolutely gorgeous.

Ian is going to play his song; it’s “inspired by a poem I found, and you are out there, somewhere, and you’re awesome.” Oh, it’s Will’s poem. As Ian sings and Will, in the audience, realizes what has happened, she slowly recoils, and eventually runs out of the cabin. Becca watches her go. Ian doesn’t notice, and keeps on playing til he’s done. The song is great, as is Ian’s performance. I sort of have little cartoon hearts floating around my head here, so I’m not going to say more than that lest I embarrass myself (further). Ian gets a standing ovation. I just now notice that his t-shirt has a giant fork on it. LOLZ.

Will is supposed to be up next with her Dr. Gina impersonation, but has disappeared. Outside, Ian asks Becca what happened to her, and Becca says, “How should I know?” Y’all, I can’t get a clear vibe off Becca ever since she read Will’s journal. I’m wondering if she read something in there that’s bothering her. Poor clueless Ian takes off to look for Will.

Back in the girls’ cabin, Chloe comes in all aglow, and walks directly up to Amber, who apologizes again, and tries to explain: “It’s just that, I’ve never had the stuff you have.” Chloe totally doesn’t care about Amber’s pesky class issues because she just made out with Trent!!!! Squeeee!!!!

Wayne is helping Dr. Gina put the chairs and tables back in the cafeteria post-Talent Night. Wayne suggests some kind of “enclosure” if she’s really interested in keeping the Tennis Douchebags out of her property. He can help with that. It’s a thinly-disguised means of staying in contact with her. Excellent. My plan is working.

Ian finds Will seething down by the dock. Before he can get a sentence out, she yells at him, “How much did you read?” It takes Ian a minute to put things together here. Will is crying. She refuses to believe that he only read one page. “Don’t you even care, that I loved it?” Ian asks. Oh. My. God. My tiny shriveled grey heart just went pitter-pat. Though Will’s reaction is somewhat understandable — she feels violated, anyone would — she’s awfully hard on Ian considering he couldn’t have known it was her journal. This is probably because she likes him. Will feels betrayed and tells Ian that he “killed” their friendship. Nooooo you guys are supposed to maaaake ooout!

Next week: Will and Ian apparently make up, and she sings to his guitar (FINALLY, we knew this would happen). Also, I think Dante kisses someone who is not Becca! Exciting!

This week’s post title and song video come from one of the most underappreciated bands OF ALL TIME, to borrow from Kanye West. This is the best version of The Replacements’ “Talent Show” that can be found on YouTube. It is the lead track on Don’t Tell a Soul, an album I wholeheartedly recommend.

I don’t watch much television. I dislike that it requires me to sit still, and I dislike that while I am watching I am more or less captive until whatever I’m watching comes to a close. I find television a little claustrophobic and overly demanding. Sure, I can record shows on DVR and watch them whenever, but even then, recordings tend to pile up and give me pathetic looks whenever I check my DVR list, like those sad dogs and cats in ASPCA commercials. I want to adopt you all, but I only have so much time! So I don’t watch much television.

It is rare that I crush out on TV shows, though sometimes it does happen. It is rarer still that I crush out on TV characters. There are a few notable exceptions. I have a weakness for complete bastards, and so my TV-character crushes have included such venerable assholes as: Crais, from Farscape; LaCroix, from Forever Knight (shut UP); Brian Kinney, from the US version of Queer as Folk; and even Al Swearengen of Deadwood. I know. I’m a weird one. In my defense, my first-ever TV crush was on Jeremy Brett’s outstanding portrayal of Sherlock Holmes. I am also automatically on board with anything that has Richard Armitage in it. I could watch that man paint a wall beige for three hours and be blissfully absorbed. I mean, damn, y’all. Damn.

But I… uh, digress.

Huge has got me, though. I find myself looking forward to episodes, and this is so bizarre I can’t even tell you. The only other show I’ve actively looked forward to like this in recent years has been Mad Men; I doubt I could find a show less like Huge, and yet both of these series have common ground in that they have hooked me, a confirmed not-really-much-of-a-TV-watcher. So I admit I am crushing on this show. More than that, I am crushing on pretty much the entire cast. Huge’s other astonishing characteristic is that it is pretty much the only show ever in which I thought every single character was gorgeous. My sensibilities on these things are unusual, I realize, and my starry-eyed adulation is also in part because of the novelty of seeing people on TV who look like people I love. More than anything, it is a feeling of relief; it is a feeling of acknowledgment. Am I real? Are we people? Do we have full and happy (and occasionally angst-ridden) lives that don’t revolve around the Great Tragedy of Being Fat? Yes, yes, and yes.

It’s morning at Camp Victory. Will is not a morning person. Poppy is. No one is surprised.

The campers assemble outside and are led in their morning “affirmations” by Dr. Gina. It starts, “We are grateful for our bodies and our spirits…” but only like three people are speaking along with Dr. Gina. The campers are yawning and cranky-looking. Ian whispers to Alistair to check out Amber’s pajamas, which cover her from stem to stern and seem to be made of flannel printed all over with multicolor hearts. Oho, sex appeal! Next, Trent appears behind Ian to confidentially instruct him that the dudes have all discussed it and decided that Ian needs to inform Alistair that he smells bad and should shower more often. I am really interested to see how this show deals with this subplot, and if it can manage to handle it in a delicate manner. Ian is bewildered, and I want to clean his smudgy glasses. That’s not a euphemism. Although I could probably make it into one, if I thought about it long enough.

In the eating-cabin (“cafeteria” doesn’t seem appropriate, here), Becca’s flyering to get a LARP group started at camp — for the uninitiated, LARP stands for live action role playing, and this pastime usually involves costuming and character-building in an invented world. I love that Becca is a geek. Indeed, I just love Becca. Chloe makes some snarky comments. Chloe, don’t you dare pick on the soft-spoken geek. I will reach into the television and fucking end you.

Alistair and Ian are eating breakfast. Alistair is talking about a dream he had: “I dreamt the whole camp was on this island, where we were like stranded. And the whole point, was like for us to get so hungry, that we would eat each other.” Ian: “That’s deeply disturbing.” Ian then makes his first attempt to bring up the showering issue in a sensitive way, and talks about how camp has “so many guys” in a “small space” and okay, Huge, I am already crushing on jailbait, you can refrain from giving me dialogue that so easily lends itself to double-entendres. Recapping this show is seriously going to get me arrested.

Ian’s efforts are interrupted by Dr. Gina Torres going on about something camp-related, and then by Will and Becca, who join their table, Will informing both Ian and Alistair that they have to come to Becca’s LARP group. Alistair wants to know if he can be someone who only speaks in riddles, and then whether they have to dress up. No, they don’t have to. “But we can, right?” Alistair says hopefully. Ian wants to know if anyone… else will be coming, with a telling glance at the table where Amber sits with Chloe and Trent and Dante.

Over at the cool kids’ table, Trent and Dante are busting on how Alistair smells. The only good thing about this is that Dante references The Neverending Story and I am pleased that Kids Today might know this movie. Chloe, laughing, asks who they’re talking about again, and Dante says, matter-of-factly: “The gay kid, Alistair.” Chloe is a little taken aback; in case you missed last week’s recap, Alistair and Chloe are siblings. It is sort of unexpected and interesting that here, “gay” isn’t an insult, but simply a distinguishing characteristic, although this is the first time we’ve heard Alistair identified as gay.

Later, Becca, Alistair, Will, and Ian are walking out to the LARP meeting place, with Becca explaining the LARP universe she’s created to Alistair. Coming down a hill, Will slides on some gravel and nearly falls but manages to stay upright. Dudes, this looks totally unscripted. Nice recovery, girlfriend! And way to keep the scene going.

As Becca and Alistair walk ahead, Ian says to Will: “I have a confession to make: I have LARPed, in my life.” Ian, you are both far too young for me AND a fictional character; please quit being so fucking charming all the time. Evidently Ian has an ex-girlfriend who was into it. Will says, “Yeah, that can be rough — she’s a gnome, you’re not…” Ha. In fact, it turns out said ex basically “destroyed” Ian, but it’s all cool ‘cause he’s over it now.

This is a public service announcement: You’re never actually over the people who destroy you when you’re a teenager. Sure, life will go on, and before too long it won’t thoroughly gut you just to think about it, but even when you are thirty and looking back you will remember that pain and sadness with a keenness that will surprise you.

Of course, Ian’s just a pup, so he doesn’t know this yet.

Ian then pulls Will aside as Becca and Alistair walk on ahead. OMG THEY SHOULD TOTALLY MAKE OUT. No. Damn it. Ian just wants to ask Will a question, and so we all must set our Team Ian flags aside for a future time. Will assumes the question is about Amber. No, it’s about Alistair and his lack of hygiene: “How do you tell someone they, like, smell?” Will thinks the straightforward approach is best, and both she and Ian agree that they would want to know. Ian says: “That’s like my worst fear, that I smell, but I don’t know it.” Somehow this conversation evolves into Will leaning over and sniffing Ian, to reassure him that he does not smell. Love this show. Will tells Ian he smells like fabric softener.

They reach Becca’s sacred grove, as she tells the story she’s devised for the location. Alistair decides he wants to be a cat person, and leaps onto a nearby tree to lean back and preen. But suddenly, they are interrupted.

Three slender kids from the nearby tennis camp have appeared, and want to know what the hell the fatties are doing in their space. One of them knows Will from school. He is an asshole. All three of them are assholes, and their sudden appearance is jarring as hell — odd that I have come to see this fat camp as a refuge. Will looks wounded when she recognizes Asshole #1.

The assholery begins, aptly, with a food comment: “So, you finally decided to put down the cake,” says Asshole #1. Ian tells them to leave, and #1 asks him, “When you’re in the shower and you look down, what can you even see?” Ian replies, “Your mother.” OH SNAP. I’ll have to remember that one. Will goes from zero to RAGEBEAST and shouts forcefully at the “douchebags” to leave before she fucks their shit up, fatass-style. Asshole #1 asks if she plans on eating them. Girl Asshole states that this part of the woods belongs to them, because they come there everyday post-tennis-ing. Will is vibrating like a bomb about to go off, and Becca tells her they should just go. As they leave, Asshole #1 not only instructs Will to “back that ass up”, but then supplies sound effects. It’s a shame that this is a basic cable show allowing for limited violence, as this dude is as deserving of an enthusiastic cockpunching as anyone I’ve ever seen.

Hey, there are ducks at Camp Victory. I don’t think I’ve mentioned this before, but we see quite a few transitional shots of ducks. No word on weather the ducks are there to lose weight; they don’t seem to be taking the yoga class. Becca and Will are, though, and Will is adamant that they should take back Becca’s sacred grove from the tennisholes, mounting a plan that involves getting as many campers as possible to show up at the next LARP meeting. Becca is not quite down with this, but says nothing. Meanwhile, Trent is chatting up Amber about his football injury, and George totally cockblocks him: “No talking.” Priceless. Alistair falls, just as The Jillian Michaels Off-Broadway Experience happens to be walking by, and she shrieks at him to get up. Shay proceeds to demonstrate the Warrior pose with a studied perfection. It’d be just lovely if she could be both extraordinarily fit AND nice to fat people. Why can’t we have both?

Post-yoga, a tense Jillian Michaels Reproduction Plate from the Franklin Mint demands that George make the campers “fear” him. She alludes to something that happened last year, and finally tells George: “Just make me look good.” As an aside, did you know the actor who plays George is the son of the actor who played Brendan and Brenda Walsh’s dad on the original 90210? It’s true. Did you also know that it horrifies me that I have to qualify 90210 with “the original” because there is a contemporary remake? That is also true.

Hells yeah, y’all, we finally get to see the inside of the boys’ cabin. I am hoping it’s all pillow fights in their underwear, but no, it’s just dumb teenage boys fucking around. Dante is taking the piss out of Trent’s flirtation with Amber, in a girly voice: “Oh, Trent, what position do you play?” Trent, whilst apparently groping Dante’s behind: “Oh Amber, I play every position.” Dante yells at him to back off. NO WAIT, LET’S GO WITH THIS. I am terrible, I know.

The newly-ferocious George enters and terrorizes the boys by telling them they really should do some chores, or something, like whatever. He brings up the chore wheel, which is apparently a wheel with chores on it. As George storms out, the boys idly wonder if he’s mad at them or something. Ha.

Ian follows George back to his room and asks if George would be willing to say something to Alistair about his lack of showering. George says sure, but then Ian suddenly thinks better of it and, protectively, says never mind, it’ll be better if it comes from Ian. Before leaving, Ian sort of gently punches — nudges, really — the speed bag hanging in George’s room, and then stops it swinging with both hands. Man, this episode is all about Ian. Dude is hilarious.

Becca and Will are trying to sell the whole LARP deal to some of the other girl campers. Will is all about making it sound like an epic battle, while Becca tries to keep to her original story. Inside their cabin, Amber and Chloe are talking about Trent. Chloe is not-so-subtly jealous that Trent may have a thing for Amber. Ladies, ladies, there’s plenty of Trent to go around!

Dr. Gina Torres is flyering for the first campfire of the season when Mystery Science Jillian Michaels Theater 3000 happens by to tell her all about how the camp’s former director, “Lorraine”, was so totally awesome and they had more campfires and the stories she told were HIII-larious. Also Lorraine rode through camp every morning on a unicorn passing out flowers and homespun wisdom to the grateful campers. Dr. Gina, who seems more and more like a scared deer with every passing episode, tells Shay she should bring one of those stories to share. Shay is eventually distracted by a protein shake and walks away.

That evening, our heroes are prepping for LARPdom, which includes fighting with swords made of duct tape. When Alistair leaps out of the cabin in his catperson persona — fake “claws” taped to his fingers, Will squirts him with a super soaker, at which point Alistair breaks character long enough to insist, “HEY HEY HEY — cats can’t get wet.” Alistair goes cavorting off, chased by Ian, who is still trying to bring up the shower issue, even while Alistair just meows and howls. Will wants to be a cyborg, which Becca quietly says does not fit within the world she’s created. Will argues: “You have to make it fun or else nobody will want to come!” They sword-fight, Will using her super-soaker as her sword, and Becca quickly disarms her. Will: “You’re good at this.” Becca: “What, you’ve never fenced?” LOL. Team Becca.

Meanwhile, Ian has lost patience with Alistair and corners him against the cabin steps, grabbing Will’s water gun and soaking him down with it: “How do you like that water, cat?” Alistair crumples and it’s not fun anymore. Ian, sensitive lad that he is, recognizes immediately that he’s gone too far, and apologizes. Alistair shrugs it off, though he’s obviously embarrassed.

Dr. Gina is searching for beloved campfire stories on the internets. Apparently she replaced “Lorraine” as camp director five years ago. Wow, Dr. Gina does not come across like she’s been doing this for five years. Or maybe it’s her dad’s presence that’s throwing her off.

The next day, Dr. Gina finds Becca at breakfast, and informs her that the place she’s chosen for her LARP group is off-limits to campers. Becca wants to move the LARP, but Will is insistent — for her own selfish reasons of revenge — that they keep it where it is.

This week, it’s Alistair who speaks at the sharing circle: “Yeah, I’m weird. You really think that’s an insult?” He talks about being excited to lose weight, but not being sure how he’ll handle it — whether it will make him a different person. Dr. Gina informs everyone that they’re not in this alone, that they all have each others’ backs here. OR DO THEY? Mwahaha.

Following the sharing circle, we discover via a conversation between Dr. Gina and her dad that she is worried about the campers’ run-in with the tennis kids. Also they shouldn’t be in the part of the land because there is a toolshed on it in danger of collapsing. And there’s the Blair Witch to consider. Oh, and, the guy who runs the tennis camp is married. And Dr. Gina knows him. And his being married is somehow important. This leads to Dr. Gina leaving Tennis Camp Guy the awkward voicemail to end all awkward voicemails, which, in between stutters and pauses, mentions that his campers were on her property, and in the pièce de résistance is cut off at the end. When the automated voicemail asks if she is “satisfied” with the message she’s recorded, Dr. Gina says, “I’m not satisfied!” But the message goes through anyway.

Won’t you take me down, to LARPing town? The would-be LARPers are all assembled, but Becca is nowhere to be found. Turns out she’s hiding in the bathroom, as clearly this is more about Will’s plan for revenge than Becca’s actual story. Will gives up looking and leaves, while Amber and Chloe — way too cool for LARP — come in, kindly taking a moment to openly laugh at Will’s LARP “costume”, which consists of face paint and armor made of cafeteria trays.

In the clearing, Will takes charge of the LARP by announcing that the object is to kill everyone. They all start fighting. It’s pretty brilliant.

Back in the cabin, Becca is trying to read while Chloe and Amber take a magazine quiz, in which the answers range from aggressive responses to situations and more passive ones. The passive answers are clearly levied as not-so-subtle jabs at soft-spoken Becca, when Chloe calls them “pathetic” and the responses those of a “doormat”. Becca closes her book in frustration, and Chloe says to Amber: “She’s going to shoot us with an arrow.” Both girls laugh. This scene murdered me dead, y’all. It is a brutally faithful portrayal of how girls can rag on other girls in this extremely passive-aggressive way, and how often the worst attack is to be treated as though you don’t exist. Obviously, this is an experience I am familiar with, because hand on my heart, if I could have climbed into the television and throttled both Amber and Chloe, I probably would have done it. You bitches leave Becca the fuck alone.

Becca, for her part, has had enough, and grabs her LARP costume to put it on and head out to set shit straight, while Amber and Chloe openly laugh at her. No sooner is she gone than Chloe and Amber unleash their bitchiness on each other, in the absence of a shared target. I think they’re fighting about Trent, but who the fuck cares? I hope they both drink tainted well water and get intestinal parasites.

Becca arrives at the LARP in character and schools Will. She is so awesome. Team Becca FTW.

Amber, in search of the LARP, stumbles upon three wild assholes grazing in the woods. Actually it’s the tennis-camp fucks, and they’re drinking beer, but whatever. The tennis fucks think Amber is from their camp, and are friendly to her. In effect, Amber can pass for “normal”. Interesting. As the foursome walks through the woods, they hear the LARP, and like asshole moths to an asshole flame, they take off in search of fat people to mock. They laugh hysterically at the sight, the Girl Asshole squealing, “There’s like so many of them!” I KNOW, RIGHT? You like never see this many fat people in one place, daring to focus on something other than being ashamed and invisible. Trent sees Amber and calls to her. Girl Asshole asks, “Do you know that guy?” Amber immediately grimaces and shakes her head, “No.”

Asshole #1 brings the hate, but Becca, still in character, squares off. “Leave this place,” she instructs, before calling them “heaps of dung.” She leads the fat campers in a chant of “leave this place” until the tennis fucks, looking confused and weirded out, finally walk away, leaving Amber behind. Will calls Becca “badass”, but their joy is short-lived, as Dr. Gina has found the group and Becca is in trooooouuuuble. The revelers disperse, to be dealt with later.

Becca and Will argue on the way back to their cabin. Becca is angry that Will changed everything about her LARP, Will says she was trying to help. Will: “It’s not like you were going to talk to people on your own.” Ouch. Will immediately seems to realize this misstep and tries to cover for it, but Becca is already hurt. Will, you fucked up, girlfriend.

Back at the boys’ cabin, George pulls Alistair aside for a little talk about showering. He does it gently, with the assumption that Alistair doesn’t know it’s a problem. Turns out he does, but he’s afraid of showering, since there’s no privacy in there, and he’s not comfortable being naked in front of all these other dudes. Y’all, what kind of dumbass fat camp doesn’t have individual stalls for showering? Seriously? George gets it. Big props to this show for addressing men’s body shame with an impressive degree of tact and care.

Elsewhere, the guy who runs the tennis camp, who may or may not be Dr. Gina’s ex, appears as if from nowhere to chat about their little cross-camper problem. He tells Dr. Gina that it was HER campers that threatened his tennis fucks, and Dr. Gina reacts with indignance: “Our kids do not harrass people; our kids get harrassed.” PREACH IT, DR. GINA TORRES.

While everyone else is headed for the campfire, George makes sure the shower is clear so Alistair can take care of business. He tells Alistair that he will do this for him every time if necessary. Alistair is grateful, and asks him to promise never to tell about this, to anyone. And George promises, so that when Dr. Gina comes by moments later and demands he go meet with his cabin for the campfire because she needs to know he’s “committed” to his cabin and his job, he doesn’t explain why he’s standing around outside the shower. Aw.

It’s campfire time! Chloe and Amber make up. Amber doesn’t really like Trent anyway. Oh, glad that’s sorted then. Chloe goes to roll up on Trent, while Ian takes the plunge and sits down next to Amber while Will looks on. Dudes, when I said Team Ian THIS WAS NOT WHAT I MEANT. Ian tries to talk to Amber about the LARP; apparently nobody noticed Amber fraternizing with the enemy.

Dante totally dug Becca’s LARP and wants to know when it’s happening again. Becca is astonished and pleased. This is a good opportunity for Will to make up with her. Becca acknowledges that she should have spoken up sooner. She tells Will she’s not like her: “You always say exactly what you mean.” Will looks over at Ian and Amber sadly: “Not always.”

Dr. Gina starts to read her story from the internets, but then stops herself. She passes around the pages and has the campers rip them into pieces so that everyone has a bit of white paper. Gina refers to these as their “white flags”. She wants them all to stop fighting. She says, “I surrender,” and tosses her white flag into the fire. It’s an unclear metaphor — what fight are they giving up? The fight with each other? With their bodies? With a culture that tells them to lose weight? Who knows. The other campers follow suit — except for Will, who surreptitiously stuffs her “flag” into her pocket. You go, girl. Damn the man.

Next week: TALENT SHOW! I want to see Will perform a raucous rendition of “Mein Herr”, from Cabaret, but I doubt that’s going to happen. She does try to get Ian to play something for her. Um, squee.