Hannibal Recap: S2E3 HASSUN
- Hassun (八寸?): the second course, which sets the seasonal theme. Typically one kind of sushi and several smaller side dishes. (via Wikipedia)
Dressing for dinner at the same time, are we?
Well.
Who will be chowing down?
I sort of hope it’s Will’s lawyer, who got all the best lines, including:
“I think I got your mail…”
(Oh, calm down. It’s just ear sushi… I mean candy; photo via foodetterreviews.com)
“I can sell unconscious in a pretty package.”
“Your infatuation with the accused is adorable.”
“It’s not only reasonable, it’s fashionable.”
Chilton: you are still a dickhead. I can feel the smarm lapping at my ankles when you talk. I need a shower. Which is pretty slick. Because it should be Hannibal who engenders that feeling. But it isn’t.
Alana: You are irksome. Please stop wining. Also, stop being stupid. Do something at least as clever as the lawyer’s quips. You have it in you.
Hannibal: Starting to sweat, Dr. Lecter. Starting. To. Sweat. Like, literally. But… but, oh you tricky bastard. You tricky bastard, Hannibal, you created Will’s reasonable doubt and now, Will is in your debt. Will bit and you fucked him — on purpose? Then you saved his ass again. Holy… Holy… Staring forlornly at chair and then judge-brain fritters, the perfect roller coaster snack?
Will: Don’t proposition women when you’re handcuffed to a table; it’s creepy. Girls dig broody, not creepy. Lecter thinks he has you on the hook, but that’s not quite true, is it? You’re letting him think he has you on the hook. But what if he know you’re letting him think… this could go on for hours and I’m freakin’ exhausted, so I’ll stop there. How is it we know where this whole thing is going and, yet, we have absolutely no fucking clue? AND WHY CAN’T I WRITE LIKE THIS.
Jack: Way to sack up. Thank you. We’ve been waiting for it for three weeks.
Lab monkeys: you continue to be both humorous and irksome. Part of me wants to slap each of you, part of me wants to fist bump and declare each you, “King of the Lab” as the situation warrants.
Clocks with pendulums: You now freak me the fuck out and I will never be able to watch one of you swing or listen to you tick tock every, every again. Fuck you and your little cuckoo too.
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