The Governor gets his sex torture dungeon ready for Michonne. The Governor’s advisor’s mind boggles as he realises he serves a malignant force. That doesn’t stop him serving said malignant force, mind you. Andrea finally realises the Governor is imbued with a sense of malevolence and flees. This was irritating soap opera crap. What is the desired result of the Woodbury/prison war? The Governor goes all ‘Sleeping With The Enemy’ on Andrea. His character has no thought, consciousness or doubt. He is just a dull killing machine with only one basic impulse: to bore. Andrea is devoid of any thought. Zombies are killed in ways that would not be out of place in ‘Evil Dead II’. Andrea tries to kill the Governor via a zombie swarm but he and his bully boy jacket escapes. Somebody torches Woodbury’s zombie bio weapons. It is not clear how far apart Woodbury and the prison are. Andrea is left in peril and this was awful, just awful.
“How does that help Woodbury?”
“I knew Phillip before he became the Governor. That man still exists.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Let her go.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Andrea jumped the wall.”
Julia, very slowly, realises Barbie is a liar and she did not know her husband at all. People nearly riot a few times. Coggins annoys and appears to have gone nuts. Junior bores, Andrea is dumb, meningitis rages and Chester’s Mill has no doctors. Joe finally notices Angie is missing. Norrie bores. Julia’s selfish, there is a token diabetic and the pharmacy has been looted. All that might have been interesting if not for the bad acting, sap and cheese. Barbie the thug menaces Phil the DJ. How do they know each other? Norrie and Joe film their seizures and it is creepy. Nobody seems all that worried about time and space running out in the Dome. No neoliberals have blamed the Dome on climate change, yet. The unsubtle doom laden hints are unsubtle. Barbie reveals he is a bookie’s enforcer and lies. He really isn’t like the book Barbie at all. Linda shows more bad judgement. Junior smirks as unsubtle scare chords play. This was dull.
“If you had told me yesterday that the idea of Junior Rennie brandishing a shotgun would be reassuring, I’d have laughed my head off.”
“Your I’m sorry means nothing to me.”
“You damned them.”