No lie lives forever…but SPOILERS do…
Season Two, Episode Nine: “Snowflake”
Written by Michael Tolkin & Brett Johnson; Directed by Guy Ferland
In last’s week episode, we learned that (much like the Wu-Tang Clan) Cookie Brown ain’t nothin’ to fuck with. He proved he’s capable of pretty much anything after blasting both Re-Kon and Marvin in the middle of downtown Hollywood. In “Snowflake,” he only further asserts authority as the-guy-you-don’t-want-to-cross. Ray preps Bridget with a manufactured lie for her meeting with the detectives working on the murder case and loses grip of the situation. All in a day’s work, right?
Quick Breakdown
Ray’s apartment is a lonely place. It mainly exists for extramarital relations, binge drinking, and housing the many skeletons Ray has hidden away inside their own upscale, yet fashionably modern, closets — making it a perfect place for Bridget to collect herself and attempt to escape the scene of watching Marvin’s head basically explode. (Quick flashback: I’m reminded of the episode “Walk This Way” and a specific dialogue between Ray and Bridget concerning love. There’s a weird parallel that the two now share involving lost loves. Ray’s teenage girlfriend was killed [It’s assumed that Mickey offed her] and now Marvin is dead, too.)
Of course, Abby wouldn’t be Abby without mindlessly sabotaging something. Once she learns that Bridget is safe with Ray but has no intention of returning to the Donovan household anytime soon, she calls up “Jim the Cop,” hoping he can swoop in and save the day. “Will you go get her?” Abby asks him. “I need you to go get her.” Talk about terrible logic. Luckily, ol’ Jim is at least slightly smarter than I give him credit for, instead setting up a meeting with Bridget and the detective investigating Marvin and Re-Kon’s murder.
Ray knows that if Bridget shares what she knows with anyone other than him, Cookie would most likely find a way to shut her up as quickly as possible. So he urges her to twist the truth, making it seem as if she was let out of the vehicle before everything went down. The problem here is that she doesn’t want to fabricate this or just sweep it up the rug; She wants justice, and once she breaks down and tells Abby what she saw, Abby defaults to her somewhat-permanent setting: stupid. (That means she gets “Jim the Cop” further involved.)
In an attempt to gauge Cookie’s awareness of who all was in that SUV he fired bullets into, Ray strolls right through his front gate and into the driveway, where he proceeds to get his ass kicked by several of Cookie’s guys. The ass-beating proves to be worth the trouble considering that Cookie doesn’t know shit about Bridget being in the backseat. But Cookie isn’t the kind of man to let this little act of trespassing go unchecked. In his eyes, Lee still owes him. He wants all the rights to Marvin and Re-Kon’s music in exchange for Lee’s safety.
Ray isn’t fucking around either. He knows what’s on the line. It’s more than Lee’s life that is in jeopardy here — it’s Bridget’s, too. After apparently finding a new shirt, Ray rushes Lee and Ezra’s office, demanding they hand over the rights. Naturally, Lee immediately folds, but Ezra isn’t about to let all that money be handed over to a murderer. Ray easily persuades him after revealing that Bridget was also in Re-Kon’s vehicle during the shooting. (So, how many people know that Bridget witnessed this whole thing go down? Six, not counting Bridget.)
For at least a moment, Ray must have felt that he adequately had the situation hemmed up. In all actuality, he may have been close, but, you know, Abby. He returns home to find “Jim the Cop” discussing the murder with Bridget and Abby; it’s a conversation that abruptly ends once Ray makes his way through the door. “Get the fuck out of my house,” Ray tells Jim. (He later pins Jim up against his truck outside his office and tells him if he ever goes to his house again that he will end up dead.)
Before meeting with the homicide detective, Ray runs through the story with Bridget again. The real problem here is that no one else is allowed in the interview room with Bridget, so it’s still unclear as to what kind of information she gave up. However, there is one small giveaway: The detective asks her, “Look, I know your father is looking out for you, but who is looking out for Marvin?” It’s safe to assume she cracked faster than a stack of pine wood at a martial arts convention. Cookie shows up (maybe to give a testimony or present an alibi?) at the LAPD office as Ray, Abby and Bridget are leaving, resulting in an uncomfortable moment between him and Bridget as he attempts to console her with a hug.
Ray is left by himself, much like how he spends most of his time. He spends the last scene standing speechless at Ashley’s door. They’re soon joined by Steve Knight (*fart noise*), who invites him in and tells him to tell them about his day. (If anyone else can gather some sort of possible foreshadowing from this get-together, I would definitely welcome it because I got nothing. A devil’s three-way? Surely not. Ray just doesn’t strike me as that kind of man.)
Rating
A
This show sure knows how to mass tension. With only three episodes left, all these moving pieces have to find a stopping point; it’s just highly unlikely that any of this ends without all of them colliding into on another.
Stray Bullets…
A panicked Lee calls Ray the day after the shooting: “I’ve been calling you since 4 in the morning. I need you to come to the office immediately and protect me.”
After demanding the rights from Lee to Marvin’s music, Cookie says to Ray, “And tell him I want Re-Kon’s catalogue, too…if he’s so goddamn scared.”
Through a series of bribes, Kate lands a meeting with an unknown inmate in a Boston prison who confirms her fears that she had been played by Ray, Mickey and the FBI.
Bunchy throws a child. Literally. And may have lost his new girlfriend. Bummer.
Mickey shoots himself in the foot with Claudette after trying to tattle to her about her husband. It also seems as if he and his neighbor really are going to attempt that marijuana dispensary heist. Godspeed, boys.
