Missed episode two? Here it is.
Want to watch along? Here are part one and part two.
It’s another two-parter that I’ve combined into a single article. I also combined a few liquids to make another treat I call Give Bromance a Shot.
To make this gem, you’ll need:
- 1/4 oz. blue curacao (DeKuyper)
- 1/4 oz. pink moscato (Sutter Home)
- 1/4 oz. coconut rum (Malibu)
- A pinch of instant coffee
- 1 oz. chilled sweet and sour (recipe follows the drink directions)
- 2 Pocky sticks (any flavor) for garnish
- Pour chilled sweet and sour into a two-ounce shot glass.
- In a shaker with a couple of ice cubes, mix the blue curacao, pink moscato, coconut rum, and instant coffee. Give it a good shake, making sure the coffee is completely dissolved.
- Carefully pour the mixture across the back of a spoon held against the inside of the shot glass. This slows the drink’s descent, making layering easier. The mix may sink halfway through the sweet and sour, but it will rise and come to sit on top, creating a nice gradient. (If you pour too fast or skip the spoon, you won’t create the gradient.)
- Garnish with two Pocky sticks of your choice and knock it back like the manly social butterfly you are.
Easy and Lazy Homemade Sweet and Sour
- 1 cup water
- 1/2 cup sugar
- 1/4 cup lime juice
- 1/4 cup lemon juice
- Mix all ingredients into a big enough spill-proof container (at least three fluid cups).
- Refrigerate overnight or for at least six hours.
- Give the container a good shake or stir the mixture, making sure the sugar has dissolved completely. If not, refrigerate for a few more hours and shake or stir again until the mixture is a nice, cloudy mix.
- Enjoy your sweet and sour. Use within a month for best results. Waste not, want not.
Serves 1 lonely soul searching for a meaningful platonic bond
This one kicked my ass more than the other drinks in this batch. I tried Japanese plum wine, Miller Lite, and even Guinness. I thought I was going somewhere with the Guinness, but my research turned up that the beverage is a temperamental ingredient; in fact, some bakers will opt to go with coffee instead. But at least I also learned that you can use it for beauty facials and scrubbing stubborn food remnants from cookware.
This is a layered drink, but the sweet and sour has a greater density than the top layer. As you pour the concoction over it, you’ll notice teal liquid drop to the bottom, then start curling upward. The layers are never truly separated, creating a gorgeous gradient. I know I mentioned this in the directions, but I’m kind of impressed with myself for figuring this out. Give me some credit.
The top layer is sweet with just a hint of fruit from the moscato. I was able to detect a teensy bit of bitterness, but other people who sampled this claimed they couldn’t taste it at all. At the very least, the coffee creates the teal color, so that makes me feel better about its inclusion. The sweet and sour is… just that. If you prefer to sip, you’ll get equal amounts of the fruity sweet and the sweet and sour.
As for the Pocky, the coconut flavor is preferred, but damn if I can ever find a package. By the time I’m ready to buy the coconut flavor, it’s sold out. But I figured this is where you can make the modification.
With this teal beauty in our hands, let’s click on the third episode.
In City De La Bandoned, super suave and sly secret agent 007 (Donnie) has a tough decision to make. His strumpet of the week (Rebecca) is in danger, and so is a shot glass of fifty-year-old Macallan scotch balanced on her head.
The baddie (Tacoma in a David Spade-ish wig) sophisticatedly mocks Bond. Behind him, his henchies (Rebecca and Donnie… yes, he’s doing two roles in the same shot) stand around waiting for orders. Hench-Donnie is pursing his lips and nodding at the camera like he wants to slip it into a dark corner and neck for a while.
Now Bond has to make a move.
BIG BAD: Take your shot, Bond.
DOUBLE-OH DONNIE: All right.
Bond spins around and deftly takes out the henchies. Baddie maintains his toothy grin, albeit a bit more strained now.
BIG BADDIE: Oh, this was stupid.
Bond spares us more obvious remarks by shooting him out of the movie.
DOUBLE-OH DONNIE: Good thing I killed him now as opposed to letting him be a threat later.
He’s doing an accent, a faux English with long vowels and airy Rs. Sweet lord, one of my weaknesses.
DOUBLE-OH DONNIE: I could never shoot you. Classy, sweet, pure as gold. You are my everything.
LUCKY TART: Take it, Mr. Bond. Take everything!
And he does. He takes all of it, his one true love, his reason for fighting, the one thing in the world that stands above God, Queen, and Country.
The scotch. Yeah, a gulp of nasty barley-soaked swill. Bond Girl is understandably offended.
DOUBLE-OH DONNIE: *half-assedly* Sorry, baby. But fifty years is irreplaceable. Unless you’re me, of course, in which case, you’ve been switched out more times than Dr. Who.
Bond Girl wallops him a good one, scotching their romance.
Instead of right away dropping in on a brainstorming session, we’re greeted by an insidious white silhouette.
SWAG LEADER: I have a secret report from within the guild. Four people have come to our attention regarding a plot that could jeopardize the Swede Actors Guild. Donnie DuPre and his team have refused our orders to halt their production company, Demo Reel. While they are still small and unaware of their talent, our analyses indicates there is… a danger. I recommend sending several guild agents to their location to stop them by any means possible. The cheap… must flow.
Wow. This sounds intense….ly trivial. Seriously, what’s the source of this imagined competition for basement-quality schlock? No wonder YouTubers start shit with each other.
It’s results time at the brainstorming table, and they’re not good. It’s specially not good for me since the Tombow brush pen won’t be appearing again. Therefore, I must bid it a fond farewell and happy coloring.
Viewers are questioning why Demo Reel is mocking the films they’re claiming to improve. (The viewers in-universe, I mean; the viewers in real life were probably smashing their keyboards in corybantic rage, demanding the return of the Critic.) Tacoma tells Donnie they’ve created some of the most hated material since “that viral trailer of Christmas Story 2.” Donnie smacks the table and bolts onto his feet. Watch out, he’s gonna glare disapprovingly! But after Tacoma quickly adds that maybe their stuff isn’t that bad, an appeased Donnie slowly sits, still giving his writer glare-y eyes.
But it would be wise to take an honest look at themselves. Tacoma admits they have an image issue. Donnie is loathe to agree, but it’s obvious. That’s why they’re going to ShadoCon in Tampa to promote the Demo Reel brand and remake Lost in Translation. The manic twinkle in his eye says he’s given this a lot of thought. Why, it could be just the thing to save Demo Reel.
But the rest of the crew isn’t on board. Donnie sheepishly asks why. His actress and writer hem and haw, testing Carl’s patience.
CARL: Augh, mein Gott im Himmel, zey are saying you suck!
TACOMA: You could’ve been a little more diplomatic about it!
QUINN: Okay. Ye blow.
DONNIE: So that’s it. All of this has been a giant waste of time.
Triggering words for the Teddy Ruxpin abusers, I’m sure. Those Doug printouts on the bear faces have got to be crumpled and torn by now. But is Demo Reel truly a waste of time?
REBECCA: I wouldn’t say that.
DONNIE: *hopeful smile*
REBECCA: It’s great padding for my resumé!
Donnie power pouts as he brattishly strolls out of the room. Tacoma tries to reason with him, but the head honcho won’t hear it. Tacoma points out they’re not paying any kind of homage to the movies they’re remaking. These indie attempts are nothing more than mockeries.
DONNIE: Yeah. Well. Maybe they had it coming.
TACOMA: “They”? What’re you talking about?
DONNIE: You’re the investigative journalist, you figure it out.
Ooh, Donnie, you never tell a writer of any stripe to figure anything out. Obsessive researchers like them will unearth a mountain of secrets and possibly embarrassing childhood photos from the rabbit holes they’ve plundered.
His piece spoken, Donnie and Carl embark on their “con-venture,” leaving the rest of the crew to their own devices.
In my opinion, here is where the Walkers show off their chops as visual storytellers. Footage of actual con attendees play between shots of Donnie exploring and trying to understand this strange new world. An instrumental plays throughout. My musically untrained ears pick up something similar to Air’s Alone in Kyoto from Lost In Translation. No music credit is listed at the end of either part, but whoever composed it deserves kudos. Gentle, with a touch of somberness weaving throughout, the music illustrates a sense of isolation despite drowning among hundreds. It’s spot-on, a perfect piece to represent Donnie’s quiet and desperate existence as a gray cloud in an amber-warmed rainbow world.
DONNIE: I think I’m miserable.
Meanwhile, the failed investigative journalist is revitalizing his knack. In his first investigative “v-log” (yes, they pronounce the V as “vee”), Tacoma has some startling news.
TACOMA: Donnie’s become really weird. Even for Donnie. My attempts to unlock a little bit about his past have hit a roadblock. Donnie DuPre… does not exist.
His search has turned up nothing. No records, no birth certificate. Tacoma doesn’t state it outright, but the question is clear: Who’s been working with them this whole time?
His phone goes off. Who would be calling at this hour?
VOICE: Mr. Narrows?
TACOMA: Yyyyyeah?
VOICE: Do you like remaking movies?
TACOMA: Well, there’s some debate about that, actually.
When the voice asks for the crew’s whereabouts, Tacoma foolishly gives him the information. Satisfied, the SWAG leader (c’mon, you knew it) hangs up. Realizing that he may have put Rebecca in danger, Tacoma leaps into action.
Back at the con, Donnie (or whoever he is) is at the hotel bar, possibly trying to pass out from a Pocky overdose. Carl continues filming either out of boredom or schadenfreude. Then a man wearing a stylish black button-up shirt comes into view, picking the seat between Donnie and Carl and conveniently ignoring the camera.
Upon hearing a warm human voice, Donnie perks up and attempts communication. The new guy finds Donnie off-putting and tries to ignore him, but Donnie won’t give up. Our hero eventually charms the stranger, and we’re introduced to the equally charming Uncle Yo.
Outside of Demo Reel, Uncle Yo is the actual stage name of Karl Custer, Jr. A lot of what we see here is cribbing from his real career which lasted from 2006 to 2017. In the few Nostalgia Critic episodes he appeared in, most notably the Ponyo review, Uncle Yo has always outshone his costars with flawless comedic timing and keen performance. It’s a treat seeing him, especially if it’s a surprise appearance.
Donnie is curious about what his new buddy does at these conventions.
UNCLE YO: Um… I accidentally created a niche for myself. I’m a—I’m a—I’m a geek-specific stand-up comedian. So if I go to a… like, if I’m at a comic book con, I’ll talk about Batman. If I’m at an anime con like this, I’ll talk about, uh… Batman.
Donnie picks at Uncle Yo’s brain, hoping an insider can help him make sense of this con culture. This whole scene is so organic and natural, you’d believe these two were actually meeting for the first time. There are stops and pauses in their conversation, vocal fillers, and one instance where Donnie almost talks over Uncle Yo. I’m guessing a lot of this was improvised, especially given Uncle Yo’s laughter when Donnie asks if there’s slashfic of him. It’s probably my favorite scene of Donnie interacting with another person.
Back at Demo Reel HQ, we find Tacoma filming another vee-log while searching for Rebecca in the parking lot. (Look, you’re on my bee-log and you’ll endure my nitpicking.) Quinn’s safety is of no concern, but given his openly crooked past, the stalkers should be more afraid of him.
But Tacoma would do well to be aware of his own surroundings. Not twenty feet away, a car ambles after him and brakes every time he looks back.
TACOMA: What the hell is this? One of those Boo ghosts from Super Mario Bros.?
Possibly taking offense to not being compared to a Phanto, the driver revs the engine. Tacoma bolts, but within seconds, he trips and tumbles. Congratulations, Narrows, you’ve fulfilled the “tripping and hurting my ankle” trope so common in horror and thriller films.
The camera lands perfectly facing skyward…
We’re thankfully spared any more pants-wetting imagery as the screen goes black.
Back at the con bar, Uncle Yo is taking an interest in the stalled Lost in Translation remake. (As you can see from the screenshot, the two have made great progress in their friendship. If you’re writing that slashfic in your head, the low lighting should help matters along.) Noting Donnie’s status as a movie buff, he asks if “it runs in the family.” Donnie smiles around his chewed Pocky and pauses before telling Uncle Yo that his mother was an actress.
UNCLE YO: You talk to her much? Was-was she happy that you followed in her steps? I mean, was she film or was she stage?
DONNIE: You know, I-I didn’t offer you a Pocky, actually, did-did you want one?
This sparks a short conversation about different Pocky flavors. Upon hearing about the coconut flavor, Donnie suggests they “escape” and partake of this elusive treat. Man, I wish I had a buddy to get me some coconut Pocky for this post’s recipe.
We return to the Demo Reel headquarters to find Rebecca safe and sound, delighting in some tabloid trash. A strange crash-shoot sounds from outside. Rebecca asks Quinn if he heard it.
QUINN: Meybeh.
Rebecca gets up to investigate…
Quinn, by the way, has been filming Rebecca while standing over her. There must be a “film everything no matter how mundane” clause in the Demo Reel contracts. In that case, Donnie, you could have set a camera in front of a glass of water for nine hours, titled the resulting film Drink, and outdone Andy Warhol.
We check back in with Donnie as happily bounce-walks to Uncle Yo’s room to pick him up for their man-date at the con. It’s worth noting that Uncle Yo is still wearing his smart getup while Donnie has changed into an 8-bit Donkey Kong level shirt. No matter, he’ll fit in. Off to the con!
Uncle Yo gives Donnie the CliffsNotes on anime and explains the usual sights at the con. Donnie is getting a better feel for this new world, and he definitely appears happier and at ease thanks to his sponsor-buddy.
DONNIE: Now who’s this one dressed up as?
What an adventure! Props and posters for sale! Hats to try on! Cosplayers and vendors to hug! Fanworks out the wazoo! A karaoke singalong of the Pokémon theme song in a conference room! Scenes I could have portrayed with screenshots if the camera hadn’t been bobbing and whipping around so much! Donnie couldn’t ask for a more perfect day!
Well… he could.
In his hotel room, Donnie phones up his wife (voiced by Mara Wilson… yes, the Mara Wilson). Being at the con has him thinking about trying new ways to connect with Mrs. DuPre. Nah, let’s be real, she probably didn’t take his name. While I find nothing wrong with a woman keeping her maiden name, I get the feeling she kept hers to spite him.
Donnie’s wife clearly doesn’t want anything to do with him, and even hangs up as he’s saying “Love you.” No goodbye, no “I love you” back. Donnie silently tips his fedora over his face and settles in for a sullen nap. He folds his arms across his chest, his left hand on top with a dull glint on his wedding band
Oh, poor, sweet Donnie. I’d treat you right, guy.
I mean, I’d implore you to get a day job and keep Demo Reel as a hobby until and if it became a self-sustaining project—and it might help if we were both single—but I’d treat you right.
Rebecca stares out into the night, eyes catching orbs from the distant street lights. Alert yet cautious, the actress-security guard is ready to take on whatever is thrown at her.
Even a roughed up Tacoma.
Zounds! The crew may be in peril! I better fortify my nerves with another helping of Bromance.
In the next part, we rejoin Rebecca and Quinn after they’ve pulled a battered Tacoma inside the building. Rebecca frets, but Quinn is curious. He samples a bit of the gore. Rebecca understandably questions him, but he invites her to take a taste.
REBECCA: Delicious. You are one tasty black man!
He sure is. D’ah—I mean, oh, but the mess, how dreadful, I’m not entertaining impure thoughts, help him clean up.
Turns out Tacoma is quite safe, but being assaulted with syrupy Swedish pancakes will take a lot out of you. SWAG has sent a delicious warning, one that the crew should heed, lest the stalkers strike again with stronger ammo. Like Swedish egg coffee, or worse yet, filmjölk loaf.
Donnie’s con-venture has shifted gears and is coasting through some boozy good times. He and Uncle Yo engage in some guy stuff like drinking and shooting the shit. And that’s guy stuff, not gay stuff… but considering Donnie’s wish for slashfic…
It’s not important, but the mini bottles look like Sutter Home pink moscato, which you’ll remember made its way into this post’s drink. There’s at least one Guinness and a bottle of Hide the Label to Keep Away Copyright Lawyers, so the guys are looking at some aching bellies in the morning.
Donnie is having the time of his life. You get the impression this is the first time in ages he’s felt this good, and it isn’t only from the alcohol. But the conversation turns to his ambitions and how he wants more eyes on Demo Reel.
UNCLE YO: If you make them laugh afterward, they come back to you, all the time.
DONNIE: I think they laugh but not for the right reason…
Yet Donnie has an unwavering faith in Demo Reel. It isn’t part of the Hollywood mindhive, and is therefore capable of recognizing the problems of so many blockbuster movies. Uncle Yo finds nothing wrong with that, but there has to be something Donnie appreciates.
Brow furrowed, Donnie turns contemplative. He asks Uncle Yo if he’s ever seen a movie called Blue Patches. As he “pitches” the movie, the spark goes out of his eyes. His thoughts turn inward and he struggles to bring the words out.
DONNIE: The, um… the acting is really good… I dunno, there’s just something about, uh… the-the, about th-the way that they do it that’s just, um… you just see something and you just say, ‘That’s… that’s perfect…’ and you can’t explain why, it-it just is. […] There’s nothing I can say about it that it doesn’t say for itself. Now let’s… just leave it at that.
Back at Fort Demo, the gang has finished breakfast. Tacoma explains he thought SWAG was after Rebecca. Turns out she had her own run-in with a SWAG member earlier, as revealed on conveniently captured security footage. A masked figure had called Rebecca on the phone and lured her to the window. His effort to terrorize our plucky actress backfired as Rebecca has steely nerves… and the guy’s car was being towed off the lot.
TACOMA: And you didn’t think that was weird?
REBECCA: I thought he was trick-or-treating.
TACOMA: In December?
REBECCA: Maybe he was from a different time zone.
The SWAGgarts may not be around now, but Quinn knows something is in store for them. They’d best be on their guard.
Things have slowed down considerably back at the hotel room. A hungover and sleepy Uncle Yo asks Donnie why he wants to make movies if all he does is criticize them; as an independent filmmaker who doesn’t want to set foot in California, he doesn’t have much of a case. In a weary, booze-fried voice, Donnie gives his reason.
DONNIE: E-e-everything I’ve… heard about Hollywood has never been good. Y’know, th-they… make these movies that are s’posed to make you feel really good, y’know, and-and-and make you escape… the pains of your real life? But when you go to Hollywood… um… eh… *exasperated sigh* Tha-the pain is there. I-i-it’s always there, and Hollywood never lets you forget that.
Uncle Yo keeps on with the questions, hitting a target too close to Donnie’s heart: His mother. Donnie’s expression becomes nuanced with misery, exhaustion, and a hint of anger. It’s kind of discomforting.
Donnie excuses himself, saying he’s sick. He washes his face with some water, then stares at the mirror, all the secrets he can’t reveal staring back at him.
Hardly refreshed, he angrily settles in for a nap, fedora and glasses and all… until he bolts out of bed to whap a snoring Uncle Yo with a pillow.
If the homestuck Demo Reel crew is going to survive the night, they’ll need a helping of distilled Irish courage. But that mixed with firearms has Tacoma worried for their lives
REBECCA: Don’t worry, Tacoma. I’m a security guard, and Quin’s military background is…
QUINN: Unf-*beep*-in’-defeated.
REBECCA: What could go wrong?
Oh, Rebecca, have you not learned from the turkey incident?
An unsettling crash-shot sounds from off-camera. Rebecca grabs the firearm from Quinn and heads out to face the noise. The guys have little time to speculate what she may find when she screams.
Finding no peace in Uncle Yo’s room, Donnie returns to his, only to find the swinging bar lock denying him entry. Carl has gotten into the spirit of unsavory con ways and will be sharing the evening with two slave Leias and a sexy Pikachu. When Donnie asks how he picked them up, Carl gives this terse reply:
CARL: Learn an accent.
Nothing like the Wreck-It Ralph one you did, either. May I suggest laying on a Chicagoan accent real thick? “Hey, sweetie, how ’bout we get a cuppa, two, tree pizzas an’ some pop, sit in da frunchroom an’ watch Da Bears? I call dibs on da left side of da couch.” So hot.
With no other option in a solidly booked hotel, Donnie heads back down to the bar. Another curious online figure appears, asking the barkeep for a Shirley Temple. Easygoing and charming, Egoraptor (Arin Hanson) quickly befriends Donnie…
… and in short order, Donnie finds himself waking up across from another man’s bed.
Trouble is brewing.
(By the way, I see Carl is back to recording the antics.)
Uncle Yo has arrived to pick up Donnie for another junket. Donnie has the guiltiest look on his face as Arin gloms onto him and giggles about the fun they had talking about anime.
The rage on Uncle Yo’s face… you’da thunk he and Donnie were in a committed relationship and the fedora-wearing mush-head got his jollies with a floozie.
Donnie should have just faked a migraine and stayed in. Uncle Yo spitefully takes him out and acts like a total yandere… tsundere… yandsere… damn these anime terms. He’s acting like a jealous little bitch.
No fun is had at a maid cafe. Donnie tries to chisel away Uncle Yo’s cold shoulder, but the man is an iceberg. Refusing to soften at Donnie’s genuine curiosity about their environs, Uncle Yo bites out terse replies to his friend’s questions. In the course of a few hours, Donnie’s happy world has crumbled.
Oh, poor, sweet Donnie. I’d treat you to a drink to drown your sorrows, guy… on second thought, maybe ice cream would be a safer option. Nothing bad ever happened from ice cream.
In the lobby, Donnie prepares to leave for his flight. Uncle Yo finds him and they share an awkward laugh about the disaster at the maid cafe. In a surprising display of concern, Uncle Yo asks Donnie if he’s set to go and wishes him a safe flight. They shake hands. Uncle Yo climbs aboard an elevator. The con-venture comes to a somber close.
Emotionally beaten down, Donnie moseys down the street to start the long journey back to Chicago. As he glances to his right, he spots Uncle Yo taking pictures of cosplayers by a fountain. Determination and hope renewed, our hero hurries over to set things right.
Uncle Yo is genuinely elated to see Donnie, and the two share a long embrace. While he has Uncle Yo’s ear close, Donnie begins whispering the secrets of four mysterious movie endings. It’s all possibly Donnie’s own crazy conjectures, but the expression on Uncle Yo’s face makes you think these are secrets of universal importance and he has no clue why he’s being entrusted with them. It’s silly as it is touching.
The sacred bond of bromance restored, the two friends part ways. Alone in ShadoCon plays again, but it’s fuller and brimming with happiness. Droplets from the fountain cover the camera lens, capturing sunlight in blurry, overlapping dots. Rainbow fragments wink in the refractions. Demo Reel may not be any more famous than it was before, but Donnie is taking home something better than fame: The joy that comes with true friendship.
One long flight later, Donnie and Carl have returned to their home soil. Carl keeps the camera trained forward, never paying attention to Donnie. Either our tight-lipped cameraman is going through a mental catalog of people who owe him money or he doesn’t do chitchat. When he reaches the pick-up area, he can’t find hide nor hair nor fedora of his boss.
That’s because Donnie has already climbed into a car. Whadayaknow, there’s a camera ready to film him.
DONNIE: So whose idea was it to, uh, y’know, actually send out a car to pick me up and, uh, sure was nice holding up the sign and everything, but, uh, who came up with that? Was it Rebecca, err, or Tacoma, err, ah… was that their idea, too, to hold the… the gun in my face and, uh…
GUN: *click*
DONNIE: Hiiii.
Looks like Bizarro Demo Reel has caught up to Donnie. Will our hero survive their nefarious plans? Will the next drink be safe for consumption? Hang tight!
Prep Episode 1 Episode 2 Episode 3 Episode 4 Episode 5 Episode 6 Cleanup
