Episode Three

I seem to eat Chinese food every time I sit down with my wife to watch Twin Peaks. I have a feeling that, instead of donuts, pie, and coffee, I'm going to associate mu shu pork and dumplings with Angelo Badelemente's haunting melodies. Except that god-awful theme song.

Special Agent Dale Cooper: School Girl Killer . . . no, not Laura Palmer. Just horny teenagers. He's also a ham connoisseur. And reminds me of my cousin Bill.

I'll never be able to look at Miguel Ferrer without seeing Bob from Robocop, or the guy from Hot Shots Part Deux . . . because WAR . . . it's FANTASTIC! But 'hulking boob' is a pretty good quote. I have to say though, when you can't see a haymaker coming from three states away with binoculars and GPS, I can't have that much respect for you, no matter how much disdain you have for yokels.

I actually want someone to produce "Invitation to Love" . . . it looks better than most of the soaps out there . . .

I wouldn't be afraid of Leo . . . no matter how scary he seems, even with an axe, he doesn't know how to chop wood. He just kept chopping and chopping and chopping at the same piece of wood . . . but he CAN'T . . . SPLIT IT . . . what a pussy.

Special Agent Dale Cooper: Yokel Humanitarian. And real estate speculator.

Is it possible to be stalked by your own wife? Actually, she's a red head, so . . . probably.

Dr. Jacoby . . . Indian Whisperer . . . When I build a house, I plan on having secret passages and a bunch of pictures with the eyes cut out so I can spy on people. Especially my wacky brother in an Indian headdress.

There's nothing classier than a fight at a funeral. Except maybe when the father jumps on the coffin and rises and falls in a carnival funhouse in hell's version of a yo yo . . .

Shelly is a jerk. A funny jerk, but a jerk none the less. But while she makes fun of a man weeping over his dead daughter, Dale Cooper gets indoctrinated into the Book House Boys, which is kinda cool. They fight the DEBIL or something.

Another reason not to fear Leo is that he wears sweaters that even Cosby wouldn't wear.

Sherrif Harry Truman: Fastest Accountant in the West.

Damn, Mr. Palmer is losing it . . . and I'm not sure how much of it he had . . .