HERE THERE BE SPOILERS FOR THE 4/30/15 EPISODE OF GREY’S ANATOMY. TREMBLE IN FEAR.
Dear Ms. Rhimes:
Hi, it’s me, Miss Banshee. So I just wanted to jot down a little note to thank you for the two hour “special” you aired tonight. I have never had a colonoscopy performed with a power drill, but now I know what that feels like. A whole year condensed into two hours. And such riveting hours they were! Screaming burn patients! Richard and Debbie Allen squabbling! Bailey and her husband squabbling! Meredith running away to…somewhere with a beach! A pregnancy that my granny saw coming! My granny has been dead since 2000, Ms. Rhimes, and yet I received a text from her that simply said “DUH” when Mere’s pregnancy was revealed.
But I digress. Packed into those two fun filled hours was endless footage of DeadDerek, who was the luckiest of the bunch, because he is finally off this ferryboat of pain and misery. We have endured over a decade of horrors befalling Seattle Grace Grey Sloane Partridge In A Fucking Pear Tree Hospital, the place where you will either die or have your life ruined entirely. Derek’s sister had some drugs, and although I value my sobriety quite dearly, I not only wanted her to get high as a kite, I wanted her to slip me a couple of them for sitting through that nonsense. And did we for a moment think that SaintlyApril would die? We did not, Ms. Rhimes, because we have watched television before and knew that Jackson would get his happy reunion because he’s super hot.
Now, a word about Karev. Who? Exactly. We have gone through this entire season without the man having anything to do but school interns and be there as a shoulder to cry on/punching bag for his “friends.” Get this man a story line before he up and quits and you have to drop a helicopter on him. ER did that TWICE to a doctor, but I have a feeling you really don’t care enough about this show any more to deter you.
Ms. Rhimes, I am thrilled with your success in a massively predominant white male profession. Thrilled. Your other shows are flourishing, and if you just don’t give two rats’ asses about Grey’s any longer, let it die. Let it die like the burn victim that we grew to love because she was literally the only likable character in the episode. When she sang the Christmas carol to her roommate, I knew she was toast. Burnt toast, if you will. Was that tasteless? Absolutely, but so was this 120 minute droning dial tone you called a “special event.”
There are loony birds on this medium we call the innerwebz who are petitioning to bring Derek back to life, and although again, I wouldn’t put it past you, since I have yet to forget Izzie and Dead Denny doing the nasty for like, half a season. Do not listen to these people. Keep Derek dead. Keep Cristina in Europe. Give Owen a girlfriend who is not irrevocably emotionally damaged. Give Karev a goddamn story line. Bring back the Bailey of yore. And please, PLEASE end this show. Because I have invested so much time and emotion into this program that you know I’ll watch to the bitter end.
And what a bitter end this has ended up being.
image courtesy of Geddy