Previously: PORNSTACHE. Well, really Jess goes on one date with a guy who has a pornstache and somehow it manages to ruin Liz’s entire life.
But really, really: PORNSTACHE.
—
Sara: Elizabeth and Jessica Wakefield are driving their mother’s ritzy convertible to school, so they can go to the grand reopening of the Dairi Burger later that afternoon. The Wakefield parents are obviously super rich, so I’m really not understanding why these girls don’t have their own car at this point. Oh, plot devices!
Lorraine: Oh, Sara. They are richly middle class. “But Lorraine,” I hear you already saying, “I don’t even know what ‘richly middle class’ IS.” I know, I know. Shhhh. It’s okay. Let me educate you:
richly middle class – being obviously rich to anyone reading about you; rich enough to live in Sweet Valley in a big ass house, have lots and lots and lots of clothes and wear gold lavaliers; being just not rich enough to still have room to complain about not having certain things, i.e. a convertible of your own; not as rich as Lila Fowler or Bruce Patman.
Everyone feel bad for the Wakefields. Their plight in life is certainly a hard one.
Sara: Because Jessica is a nosy bitch, she won’t stop hounding Liz about why she isn’t riding to school with Todd instead. Liz is all, “Don’t worry about it, whore,” but Jess is all “TELLMETELLMETELLME,” so Elizabeth finally confesses that Todd has purchased a…
Lor: shit ton of drugs? shit ton of roofies? case of bottled STD’s? rape kit? rape van? fat! person? girlfriend with a fully functional vagina?
Sara:
Motorcycle.
*GASP* Say it ain’t so! Not a two wheeled death machine!
Lor: Sigh. I can’t even fake a suitable reaction.
Sara: Jessica starts lecturing Liz on how dangerous drugs? roofies? STD’s? Rape? Fat people? Vaginas? motorcycles are. She throws a big HOW DARE HE out to Todd for purchasing one at all. Because doesn’t Todd know that you aren’t allowed to do anything unless every member of the Wakefield family has signed off on it? What. A. Tool. Shame on him for saving his hard earned money to purchase something he wants and expecting his girlfriend to be happy for him. SHAME ON YOU, TODD WILKINS.
Two pages in, and I’m already Team Wilkins. Okay, let’s be honest. It’s more like Team Throat Punch Todd, and I am always on that team.
Lor: I’m always on Team TPT because I’m pretty sure he never gets laid, ever. It makes me sad for him. Like he’s a make a wish kid and his ultimate wish is a blowjay.
Sara: Isn’t that mankind’s ultimate wish, too?
Jessica whines to Liz, “You know Mom and Dad are going to be pissed because of our cousin who died in that motorcycle accident, and he was practically my best friend, too, even though I’ll never mention him again in the rest of Sweet Valleydome, and NO MOTORCYCLES WAH WAH WAH.”
Way to be a motocock blocker, Jess.
Lor: Make sure to say hello to Todd’s invisible-forgotten brother for us, Dead Forgotten Bestie Cousin!
Sara: She keeps bitching about how dangerous they are, in case Liz hadn’t figured it out from the past twenty minutes of her complaining. Motorcycles are dangerous, Jess? Really? Are they as bad as going to bars with rapists? Or going to the lake with rapists? Or going out in a secluded area of the woods with no way to get home…. with a rapist?
You shut your whore mouth, Jessica Wakefield.
For some reason, Elizabeth hasn’t told Todd that she is forbidden from riding in cars with boys on motorcycles. Instead, she’s decided to skirt around the issue and keep making excuses as to why she can’t ride with him, which is really fucking stupid since she’s going to have to tell him eventually, right?
Also, I’m skipping a lot of punny sex jokes here. Feel free to add them in at your own convenience.
Lor: She’s saving all her motorcycle riding for marraige, yo. Respect.
Sara: Enid is having a kick ass Sweet Sixteen party, in case you didn’t know.
Lor: zzzzzzzz.
Throat Punch Todd is apparently a sucker for saving the whales, in case you didn’t know. Lor: Is there another sex joke in here? About sucking and whales? I’m confused.
Sara: Liz finds Todd making out with his motorcycle after school (foreplay?). He tells her that he bought her a pink helmet (…flavored condom?), and he’s excited to take her for a spin (sex?) Ahem.
Elizabeth finally breaks down and tells him that she can’t ride on motorcycles because motorcycles lead to sex and sex leads to chlamydia and then you die. Lor: or get pregnant aka fat! which is pretty much the same thing as death.
Sara: Lorraine, don’t be silly. Being a fat! person is way worse than death
Liz cries like a little bitch about not being able to ride on Todd’s motorcycle (ahem), and Todd is all, “That’s cool, whatevs,” and Liz is all, “You aren’t mad at me?” and Todd is all, “Uh, why would I be mad?”
Men are really much more simple-minded than we think they are.
Cue the kiss, cue the happily ever after, and cut to black.
HAHA JAYKAY, Y’ALL. This book is not over yet. Don’t think you were getting off that easy, bitches.
Todd would love to stay and chat with Liz, but he has more important things to do, like save the whales for a group project. #lame
After school, everyone heads to the Dairi Burger for the grand reopening. Jessica and her new boy toy, Plot Deviceington, pull into the parking lot and Plot accidentally taps the bumper of a large purple van. A LARGE PURPLE VAN. Maybe if Throat Punch Todd had one of these suckers, he’d get more lovin’ from Lizzy.
It turns out the van belongs to a guy named Crunch. Yes, his name is Crunch. And he drives a shaggin’ wagon. A purple shaggin’ wagon. Move over Wilkins, we’ve got a new sexy beast in town!
Crunch jumps out of his sexymobile, and awwww shit, y’all. Dude is roid raging and about to Throat Punch someone’s face in. The crowd is suddenly worried for Plot’s safety, but I’m standing far enough away to not get blood on my clothes, screaming, “FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!”
Lor: Hold my earrings! Hold me back! YOU WANNA GO? YOU WANNA GO?
Sara: But wait! Throat Punch Todd himself is pulling into the parking lot to take care of shit! He runs up to Crunch and throat punches him to the death!
Lor: YES. Someone call the cops Nancy Drew.
Sara: Okay, not really, but that would have been way cooler.
Lor: Aw man. 🙁
Sara: Really Todd pulls up, and is all, “Hey Crunch, what’s with the roid raging? You want to calm down by taking my brand new motorcycle for a spin around the block? And also, is that the smell of Taaka on your lips, or…..? Ah, fuck it. Have fun driving my bike, yo!”
Throat Punch Todd saves the day without a throat punch this time! Respectable, yet disappointing…
But oh wait. Did I forget to mention that when Todd showed up at the Dairi Burger, he had a girl on the back of his bike? Apparently she’s “helping with a school project” and she “didn’t have a ride home from school” and she “wants to save the whales” and she’s “a whorey whore whore homewrecker”.
And? AND?
SHE’S WEARING LIZ’S PINK HELMET.
Lor: Bet money she also helps those make a wish kids, ifyouknowwhatImean…
Sara: Elizabeth tells herself that she shouldn’t be jealous, and it’s totally not a big deal. I disagree. Bitch, you are a hormonal teenager! This is the time in life when you’re supposed to act like a jealous, psycho woman. Learn it, live it, love it, girl.
Later that night, the twins are home, doing dishes.
WAIT. WAIT A FREAKING SECOND.
The Wakefield goddesses have to do dishes?! What the….? I just figured self-righteousness would wash the pots and pans.
Lor: Right. And being a whore pays the bills. Oh, wait…
Sara: Anyways, the girls are doing dishes and Jess says, “Well, it’s obvious Todd feels the need to keep the backseat of his bike warm.” Jessica obviously understands the psycho 16-year old girl concept we were discussing earlier.
Lor: And that sex is awesome. I mean, we are talking about sex, right? These sexual innuendo lines are getting so blurry.
Sara: Jess acts like a crazy bitch some more, and then she gets in a fight with Liz because her boyfriend is driving a death machine. Wait, what? Does this make sense?
Lor: No.
Sara: Okay, just checking.
Oh wait, it’s three pages later, and they’re cool again, because Jessica needs Liz to ask Enid if she can go to Enid’s sweet sixteen party with Enid’s cousin, Plot Devicingtwo. Liz is all, “Uh, hey? Remember when you were a total dick to Enid four books ago?” Jessica doesn’t care, obviously, and Liz agrees to help because she’s a (say it all together now) doormat.
The next morning, Enid and Liz are waiting at the bus stop. Todd drives by on his motorcycle to laugh at the losery losers stuck without a badass death mobile. He says hi to Liz, while Enid orgasms all over his motorcycle. Todd asks Enid if she wants a ride. Ahem.
Todd: “Now, you can hold on to those arm rails, but I think you’ll be more comfortable if you wrap your arms around my waist.”
AW HELL NO. Bitch, I don’t care if you’re my best friend. If I can’t ride the fucking bike, you sure as shit can’t ride the fucking bike, am I right or am I right?
Lor: Et tu, zzzzEnid??
I didn’t ever think I’d have to do this to you zzzzEnid but I have to: #hosuspension.
Sara: Liz doormats and gets on the bus once she realizes Enid isn’t coming back. Because she’s too busy riding Todd’s equipment. Ahem.
Liz is trying not to go all Mommy Dearest on Todd by ignoring everyone at school. She’s actually trying to be really sweet, and this is the first time in six books that I’ve felt sorry for her. Oh, Lizzy, it’s okay! Let’s go grab milkshakes at the Dairi Burger and talk shit about that Mandy slut whose name should probably be spelled Mandi based on her slutty riding-on-the-back-of-Todd’s-equipment shit. (Ahem.)
Lor: Names that end in -i are totally sluttier! That’s a life rule, right? Oh, unless you are Childhood Trauma reader, Kirsti. Wow. This is a little awkward now…
Sara: On her way to the Oracle office (the school paper she writes for, in case you didn’t know), she sees MandI the Whore and Todd studying from a stupid book about whales. MandI has her hands on Todd’s shoulders. Wait, what? Why would you have your hands on someone’s shoulders when you’re reading out of the same book? Is this creating an awkward picture in anyone else’s mind right now? Just me again? Okay, cool.
Elizabeth is obviously feeling down, which of course means that it’s about time for Creepy Collins to swoop in and offer creepy pedophile-y advice. Right when Liz is about to burst into tears, CreepyCollins rolls up, places a hand gently on her shoulder, and asks if she wants to talk about it.
Sara: Elizabeth tells Mr. Collins all about her Todd troubles, and he tells her she has nothing to worry about, while wiping the drool off of his face.
Liz: Well, am I going nuts or what?
CreepyCollins: Not at all. Matter of fact, I think your reaction proves you’re a normal, healthy girl.
Is anyone else picturing a really creepy leer to go along with that quote?
Liz thinks about the fact that CreepyCollins knows what he’s talking about when it comes to emotions. She’s well aware of his divorce and how emotionally draining it is to deal with his ex-wife on a regular basis.
No, it isn’t weird at all that a 16-year old is well aware of the details of your divorce, CreepyCollins.
CreepyCollins says a few more creepycollinsy things before going to jerk it to Liz’s sophomore yearbook picture in his office.
Liz heads off to the cafeteria and meets up with Enid. Todd can’t sit with them because he has “loads more work to do on the saving the whales project.” And this is the point where I call bullshit. Elizabeth Wakefield, he is cheating on you! No man cares about whales that much! Read the signs, girl!
Lor: Plus he said “loads.” He isn’t talking about laundry or dishes, girlfriend. Get it together.
Sara: Liz admits to Enid that she’s a little jealous of her for getting to ride Todd’s equipment without her. Ahem.
You were sharing Todd in a way that I never will.
AHEM. AHEM. AHEM.
Lor: They haven’t reached the threesome part of sex education at Sweet Valley high?
Sara: After school, Liz & Co. plan on meeting at the Dairi Burger, where I’m guessing their size six asses order diet water and air. Guy, the drummer for the Droids, offers Liz a ride there, since she would have to catch the bus otherwise. When she gets to the restaurant, Todd is all broody and pissy about her riding in cars with boys. Liz is like, “WHAT THE FUCK? You drove a motorcycle with some bitch’s claws wrapped around your waist and you’re pissed at me? Fuck you, dude.”
Except really she just laughs about his jealousy, and they decide that neither of them will ever even look at a member of the opposite sex ever again for the rest of foreverdome, because they love each other sooooo much. Uh-huh. Get back to me in about ten books, Lizzy.
Lor: And then she logged onto Facebook and wrote “I love you, love of my life, forever and ever and until the stars fade, hugs and kisses my honey pumpkin bunch” on his wall, right?
Sara: She probably even logged into his Facebook account and left some lovey dovey stuff on her own wall from him. Classy.
Oh look! It’s the night of the party! You know, I used to curse the ridiculous number of dances in these Sweet Valley books, but now I look forward to them. And I’ll admit, I was a little depressed that the first dance didn’t show up until page 79.
Everyone’s having a good time, dancing and talking and…………. HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE. Is that CreepyCollins standing by the punch bowl? Isn’t this a birthday party for Enid off campus? Oh, he’s just here as a chaperone. Even though he doesn’t have a child at the party. Huh.
CreepyCollins reminds me of a former co-worker of mine who was a Boy Scouts leader, even though he had no children. Dude, no. Just… don’t.
As the party winds down, all the kids leave to go downtown or something. Because apparently party-hopping is what teenagers do in Sweet Valley. And really, we can’t be surprised, considering how many parties happen in this town. There are probably two or three to choose from any given night.
Jessica is supposed to come pick Liz up to take her to the next poppin’ party spot, but she’s too busy being a whore to remember.
Lor: I hear that when you become a whore, your memory is the first thing that goes. Or wait, is that when you get old?
And did I just imply I was either a whore or old by forgetting?
Fuck.
Sara: Todd shows up at the last minute and tells her that he’s selling his bike to Crunch, the roid-raging, purple-van-driving stoner, because motorcycles don’t have a backseat he loves her. Liz figures she can ride with Todd on his motorcycle just this one time since he’s selling it. He doesn’t have her pink helmet (since he isn’t giving rides to girls anymore), but she’s like, “Fuck it! I’m rebellious! and fun! and probably going to end up with my brain splattered all over the interstate! Yeah!”
While Elizabeth is getting her brain splattered all over the interstate, Jessica is macking on Plot Devicingtwo. She thinks about checking on Liz, but let’s be real, without cell phones that is entirely too much trouble, so she says fuck it. But wait! Her twintuition is going off! Liz might be having her brain splattered all over the interstate right this second!
Jess and Plot Devicingtwo rush back to the party, only to come upon a nasty motorcycle accident on the way there. Go fuckin’ figure, right? Todd is bawling like the little bitch he is, Plot Devicingtwo is rubbing his blue balls, and Elizabeth is in a coma on the side of the road because of some douchey drunk driver.
Oh, look! The drunk driver is Crunch!
Liz is rushed to the hospital, but the Wakefields are told that she’s in a coma, and they have no way of knowing if she’ll ever wake up.
DUN DUN DUUUNNNNNNNNNN.
If we’re lucky, the answer is no.
Lor: Wait, what the fuck? I was busy thinking about whether I was old or a whore and all of a sudden Liz is in a coma?! WHAT? Also, REALLY SWEET VALLEY? REALLY? What are the odds???
Dammit, guys. Comas make me angry.
Next time on Sweet Valley High: Will Elizabeth live or die? Find out in #7, Dear Sister.
I'm a 30-something with three kids who spends an embarrassing amount of time watching teen television dramas. There's a whole lot of Internet out there, and I plan on reading all of it before I die.
I'm a 30-something south Floridan who loves the beach but cannot swim. Such is my life, full of small contradictions and little trivialities. My main life goals are never to take life too seriously, but to do everything I attempt seriously well. After that, my life goals devolve into things like not wearing pants and eating all of the Zebra Cakes in the world. THE WORLD.
