Mar 1, 2017
Full House “The House Meets the Mouse (Part II)” (part 1 of 3)
Awwwww yeah, here we go! Here it is: The most inspiring, heart-stopping piece of television I’ll ever watch, you’ll ever watch, your mamma will ever watch, your mamma’s grocer will ever watch, and everyone in between, for all time, multiplied by pi.
This episode of Full House, this glorious episode, will be so mind-bending, so awe-inspiring, so utterly intellectually (and maybe even sexually) fulfilling, that by the end of these thirty minutes you will have jizzed yourself multiple times. And I assure you, you will have already written your love letters to each and every actor in this cast, starting from the littlest to the oldest and most bitter, praising them… no, thanking them, just for existing.
Most of them, of course, are either washed up, drug-addled, possibly responsible for the death of Heath Ledger, or otherwise scheduled to show up on the second season of Glee. So. You know. Don’t expect a return letter or anything.
Still, this will be an amazing episode. How do I know? Because dude, they don’t even need to explain what happened in Part I! No “Previously On”, no nothing. Why? Because they assume—and rightly so—that Part I’s awesomeness has by now simply integrated itself into your DNA and become a part of your basic humanity. That Part I was so intense, you already intuitively know what it was about, even if you can’t consciously remember much of anything (I think Michelle was kidnapped by ninjas?). That’s how awesome this episode will be.
In fact, you know what? I’m just gonna start this right now. Yeah, baby. I’m firing this up. I’ll see you on the other side!
[half an hour later]
Wow, that was shit.
Let’s just jump in.
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After the standard cheesy opening credits about the joys of being a white family living in suburbia, we open up with a wide shot of Disney Castle, so you know we’re in Disney World, the happiest place on earth, other than Chippendales.
The camera focuses on Michelle’s face on a poster, and I immediately think she’s either (a) been kidnapped (ninjas??) or (b) killed, but since this is the actual episode and not Stephanie’s rage-induced fantasies, I force myself to remember harder.
Oh yeah, Michelle was made princess for the day. And there she is, dancing in front of a group of street musicians playing calypso music. They’ve got these big goofy grins on their faces, because we’re supposed to believe they, like everyone in Disney World, are just so kind and full of happiness for no reason, and they’re certainly not thinking about going for a smoke and maybe out to a strip club for a quick lap dance once their shift is over.
One of the musicians asks Michelle if she’s enjoying herself, because he’s the only one not otherwise preoccupied by sweet daydreams of booze and whores. Michelle asks if she’s being bossy, and what you don’t see is the split-second pause before the guy answers, the one in which he wonders if he’ll still get paid if he tells her to screw off and let him take a piss already.
“Go away, little white girl,” he says in his possibly fake Jamaican accent. No, actually, he grins like a moron and tells Michelle she is the most wonderfullest little girl ever, and then proceeds to get everyone else to applaud her—yes, applaud her—just for being the most wonderfullest little girl ever. Well, at least he’s getting paid.
Snow White is skulking in the shadows of the crowd, scoping out the competition, because she’s the fairest of them all, dammit, and she will shank whatever bitch tries to take her place.
Carefully, she glides up to Michelle all graceful like, trying to seem unassuming so as to not scare away her prey.
Snow White: We heard you ran away from your sisters!
You hear that? Snow White’s got intel. None of us is safe.
Michelle says it’s because her sisters have a “bad attitude”, because Michelle herself could never do anything wrong, and how could she, when the universe keeps validating her self-centeredness?
Since she’s got two wishes left, Michelle asks to have a tea party with Mickey, Minnie, and all the crew. Oh right, Michelle. Because it’s not like they’ve got other plans, right? Ugh. Snow White’s eye stops twitching for a second as she answers: “You’re the princess…”
Michelle: You’re the only one that understands me.
The laugh track tells me this is funny. Snow White just smiles, dead-eyed, and you can tell she’s plotting. Dreaming. She wants to lick Michelle’s blood off her perfect white teeth. She takes Michelle’s hand and walks off with her and we can only fear the worst. Or, you know, cheer.
Meanwhile, at the Living Seas building—
Michael Eisner: Another wonderful attraction you can visit if you go to Disney World!
Shut up, Eisner, damn! They fired your ass. Get over it!
Michael Eisner: [hisses and runs off into the night]
Ahem, anyway, Uncle Jessie and Uncle Joey are underwater, but safely inside some weird futuristic see-through metal globe thingy, apparently donated by Canada, judging from the random Canadian flag plastered on the front. Which is funny, because everyone knows we don’t have enough money to make shit like this.
They’re broadcasting a radio show, and please don’t ask me about the physics of broadcasting a show from underwater. I’ll just assume it’s a magical space dome created by… gnomes, because… the world needs laughter? And sexy Uncle Jessie voice. Glee understands.
Jessie tells Joey his plan to dazzle Becky with a romantic evening, in hopes of being rewarded with sex. With Becky. Not Joey. Maybe. Stop writing, slash-ficcers.
But oh noes! The Magic Space Dome is surrounded by sharks! Or, according to Jessie, a “flounder with an overbite”, because in case you don’t remember this series, he is, in fact, deeply, deeply stupid. The foreboding music tells us they are actually sharks, and I could have told you that, because if Disney’s taught me anything, it’s that flounders are actually yellow, fat, offensively stupid, and completely ineffectual.
Jessie finally realizes what he’s looking at is indeed a shark, but don’t worry, says he, it’s probably a “vegetarian” shark. For the record, these guys are generally just confusing. I honestly can’t keep track of who’s playing the straight man and who’s playing the moron, because they switch so frequently it’s like even they don’t remember their own characterizations anymore.
Joey’s afraid to leave, because he’s had an irrational fear of sharks ever since one held him and his family at gunpoint when he was just a wee lad. Jessie’s so sensitive, he tries to ditch him, but Joey cries out his name in that deep, husky voice of his, and clutches at his wetsuit desperately. They stare into each other’s eyes as the dark cloud of danger closes in on them, and… Stop writing, slash-ficcers!
Cut to Aunt Becky—or Aunt Becky before she was suddenly and inexplicably unhappy with her marriage on 90210. The poor thing’s standing on a pier somewhere, waiting for Jessie, not knowing he’s already in the grips of perilous passion with another man. But at least Chip and Dale are there to keep her company.
She tells them Jessie’s late. They can’t talk, but you can tell they’re totally judging her. I mean, girl, even chipmunks know your man is gay.
She’s absolutely certain Jessie will come through on their anniversary. Dale just shakes his head like, “Bitch, please.” I think I liked him better when he was randomly solving crimes with pantsless mice. Becky’s too self-conscious to believe in her marriage and her absolutely heterosexual husband, so she caves and shares her picnic sandwiches with the chipmunks.
And it’s all really creepy, because this whole episode has the Disney peeps in character—as in, the adults treat them as their characters, and not as actors playing these characters. This does kinda make sense, since this episode is mostly aimed at children, and from a marketing standpoint it’s imperative for Disney to make kids believe, or at least feel, that these characters are real. But it’s freaking creepy.
I keep imagining a whole race of giant fluffy live-action Disney characters plotting every night to overthrow the world’s governments, and rename our planet New Disneydon. And on every third day of every third week, we’ll be forced to sacrifice our first born children to their god, King Mickius, lest he become wrathful and run us all down with his steamboat.
I’m okay now.