Carly Cap No. 12 “Barly” and Me

Well, it’s time for the February sweeps story arcs to begin, and Tweetland is all a twitter with pimps and polls for the middle-aged Mayan marriage re-tread.  I, like many, was craving a heaping helping of independent Carly storyline, but instead, it seems like we will be fed a plate full of Barly this season.  Just what all daytime fans need, more roughage.  But never fear, loyal and regular readers.  I will take this sacrificial Dickensonian twist and hold out my bowl for more so you don’t have to. This is my gift.

Bo comforts a nervous Carly with news that whoever was poking around the Swiss baby bank didn’t make a withdrawal of her personal records.  Of course, there was some kind of alpine flood and Carly’s records have not been restored.  Floods in Switzerland!  What more evidence do those “deniers” need of global warming?

After speaking to Carly, Bo runs into Vivian who tries to warn him of his continued dalliance with that hippocratic succubus.  Oh, Vivian.  You had me at guttersnipe, now succubus?  Either Louise Sorrel carries around her own copy of Dialogue for Daytime Dummies, or she is sub-contracting locution experts from Days gone by.  Vivian explains to Bo that by ignoring his family for that strumpet, he is chasing his wife into the arms of another man.  She saw Hope ringing in the new year by clanging Justin’s clapper.

Later at the hospital, Dr. Manning gets on the elevator without noticing Cruella de Vivian in the back snacking on a bag of puppy chips.  I would say let the games begin, but Carly has been transformed into a sniveling hot mess of claustrophobic weakness.  Like a cat with a ball of yarn, or a CBS soap executive with a lesbian, Vivian begins to tease and cajole Carly.  Vivian threatens revenge for Lawrence’s murder and promises to see Carly in hell.  What, Salem’s not it?

Vivian exits the elevator leaving Carly to a dysfunctional lift and flashbacks of being buried alive.  Gasping, yelling, and shouting, Carly’s face turns blue…no, wait, that was my elevator ride in Vegas.  Carly freaks out while the maintenance man pries open the door just as Bo rides up on his trusty nag.  Does anyone need Fabio on the cover to see where this is leading?  Carly, apparently having lost her backbone, collapses into Bo’s arms.  He takes her to her hotel room where after almost 20 years, Bo still remembers how to play doctor.

The after-glow (What no, tank tops?) is interrupted by a call from Hopelessness, where her matrimonial American Idol is “looking like a fool with his pants on the ground”.  Hope says her Uncle Mickey died, and she needs Goofy.  Bo puts on his pants and meets his wife.  The little woman begins to talk about coming home when someone interrupts and asks Bo if he got Dr. Manning home ok.  Hope immediately recognizes the eau de Carly, that she initially thought was a sickeningly sweet new cologne, and kicks the old cop to the curb.

Hope runs home to the Horton’s and finds Carly there putting out her condolences.  Hope calls Carly a whore.  No, that was Olivia, but Crystal did say she was bringing a little of the character with her.  Maybe THAT’S what she meant.  Hope tells the family to take their grief to the kitchen.  Hope and Carly began to fight their way to the moral high-ground, but neither could muster the attitude of that altitude.  Bo arrives just in time for me to omit the scenes of overacting Hopelessness.

Vivian believes she has figured out the identity of Carly’s daughter.  She’s got an app for that.  She says it has to be Mia, the cheer-less leader, the single runt of Carly’s only (as far as we know) litter.  Much to my recap relief, Carly admits she’s no Mia Mama, and confesses that Melanie is her daughter.  Of course, Melanie doesn’t realize take your mother to work day includes a murdering, home-wrecking, shrew, but Carly is out to change all that by needling, hovering, and smothering…bet she’ll start making cookies SOON!