Noirin, you're dead to me

Oh Noirin! I had her back! I stood up for her when Sree stalked, when the Wolverine went rabid, when Halfwit turned on her. But even I can't throw her a bone now. Not even a little chicken one. Not even an I Can't Believe It's Not a Bone bone.

She swore to Siavash that if he told her what people had been saying about her, she would never repeat it. Then she repeated it.

Worse, she repeated it out of an obsessive need to be liked at all costs. It was easier for her to betray Siavash's confidence than believe anyone had said anything bad about her. She was quickly willing to take Karly's word over his because it meant she could live in a naive little world where everyone liked her and no-one thought she resembled a small, randy, hutch-dwelling pet.

Needless to say, I am no longer wearing Noirin-tinted glasses. But I do need some sort of optometry aid after once again being subjected to Marcus in his caveman suit. It's possible, however, that my ears suffered worse damage. What was that drivel he was spouting about pulling the truck?

"I kid you not, I have pulled full cargos. When I used to do mechanics, I used to pull and push them around all day. I could do this myself. You may as well stay here, I'll do it myself." OK, hard man, whatever you say.

I managed to control the urge to lop off both ears though and was well rewarded for it. That soap-opera-inspired rant of Halfwit's, complete with stabbing finger motions, was the stuff of dreams. It took me back to Santa Barbara circa 1986, when Cruz and Eden used to have those dramatic fights before making up down at the beach or in some hideaway house where they were staying while on the run.

You know what? I reckon last night's episode has to be declared the season's best so far.