The bell concert hath ended. That tool was really not worthy of you my big, strapping hunk of rampant masculinity. Next time try a big horn or a trumpet. Or a didgeridoo.
RK complains to Bappa. And he complains some more to a deity he doesn't believe in. That's some serious gripe to hold against someone who doesn't exist. Oops, my bad. In RK world he does exist, only he doesn't hear that well and can be easily bribed. So, are you saying Bappa is a -- gasp--bureaucrat?
RK is excellent in this scene. Even with the v bad lines and obviouscape tear wrenching.
Take a bow, VD! And while you're at it, do you mind coming a little bit closer? I need to check the definition on those pecs... research for my bathroom fic. I plan to have you naked in the shower. Hope you don't find that intrusive or forward. Trust me, that's practically chaste compared to what some of the people here are doing to you in their heads.
RK! Right! He says something about bhajan, bhojan and whoopsadaisy Madhu ka vishwas. Hmmm mmm mmm!!!!! V interestingly played there, writers.
Anyway, RK does a total flounce and turns away. Madhu, the only denizen of Rkham with functional hearing, is listening to all this from the viewing gallery of plot convenience. She cries.
Then just as RK turns away, the flame in the lamp before Mr Ganpati Bappa, WAS ( World Administrative Service) , in charge of the department of removing of obstacles, flickers. RK protects it with his hands. Madhu watches. And is v pleased that lo, her husband, on whom she spies without shame, is NOT an atheist! Yay! Normative evengelical religiosity FTW.
Cut to le grotte. RK doesn't bother to change, just plonks down beside his wife who is fingering her new weave. The hair on her head, gutter-minds! She is smiling, and starts on Bappa. RK is irritation central.
Madhu, with no discretion whatsoever, spills the beans about her shameful spying. RK makes an adorable face, turns his back to her and goes to sleep. Sexily.
Madhu looks back over at him. So would I. So would we all. Just look at that bum. I would throw pennies at it at night if it were presented to me at such an attractive angle. To see them bounce off. There could even be some petting. Perhaps a little stroking...
What's green and beige with a psychedelic pattern outlawed in 55 countries and is a universal offense against good taste? Lo! It is Bittu's shirt. Bittu is being threatened again. Sikki, in a not at all obvious plot anvil ( and I AM being sarcastic) asks whether he is being threatened. Bittu goes upstairs after thanking the gods he got a hotkey for the police commissioner's number.
Madhu is wearing something which resembles armour crafted from metal more than mere fabric. She is trying to make kheer for the bhog. Vampy vamp from Vampshire is chided by her MIL not to repeat the gastronomic innovation she tried with the modaks. I think Radhaji is a smart cookie. No wonder she bagged Im the Dim.
Let me just point out that in the Makeup Wars, D saw Trishna's eyeshadow offensive yesterday and has truly brought her A game on. Her eyelids resemble a warzone where the kajal fought to the death with black eyeshadow. Several mascara bottles died in the skirmish, ably supported by a dozen fake eyelashes. We shall all mourn their passing.
Madhu in the kitchen. Darkness falls. It is the End of Days. With this kind of dragging plottage and horrendous writing, they got that right.
Radhaji sings her litany of staff names, Munna, Patil, random female. Random female appears and says chief asked all the fuses except for his room to be taken out.
Sikki and kukku make hay by drinking.
And today the Madhubala script got switched with Big Brother( Boss in India). Salman Khan saunters down and says that today's task is to complete the kheer cooking without gas or electricity.RK makes a good SK. But he makes a good everything, I guess. O my scrumptious dumpling of eternal delight, you light up even this dismal rag of a show.
Madhu is unfazed. She takes the kheer stuff outside to where Bappa, WAS, is sitting in state.
No! Yes. She will try to cook the kheer in the flame of a dozen dias? That is some full-pn bad 80s devotional film referencing. On roids.
Sallu won't let her. She lights, he blows. And not even in a good way.
Madhu gets tired of the blowing(idiot) and asks him why he's so bothered.
As someone wise once said, dear Madhu, repetition even from your pretty lips, is tedious. But RK can repeat whatever he likes whenever he likes. Normal rules don't apply to such hotness.
Madhu reveals her own life story. Everybody is aghast. FQ may have teared up a little bit. And then what do the Wriiters do? In the worst bit of writing in the history of the world, and I am including the Houseful scripts in the reckoning, they end not on the pathos of that, but on the screwed up bit of paper M is carrying aound tied in her pallu. Just slay me now. No mockery can be mocking enough.
Ooh! Big denouement!
It is a bill for veg seekh kebab. Not even from Raisbhai. From 'the Orange'. No meaty delights were harmed in the making of this week's episodes.
FQ just wanna weep.
Edited by Foucaults-qalam - 05 October 2012 at 12:08pm