Previously on Misfits: a bunch of twenty-somethings on probation get caught in a freak storm that gives them superpowers. It’s as hilarious as it sounds.
Nathan, still trying to figure out what his power might be, thinks that maybe he’s like Spiderman. Which, actually, if you’re going to pick personalities of various super characters, Peter Parker isn’t too far off the mark. If Nathan resembles any super powered character, though, he’s Wade Wilson.
Curtis wants to know how Nathan being Spiderman makes any sense at all. Nathan, citing their powers as examples, says nothing makes sense: “It’s not like this whole situation is backed up by a wank-load of logic.” Actually, Nathan, if you’d read my prior recap you’d see that everyone’s powers do sort of fit with their characters. I shudder to think what yours might be.
As the misfits are picking up trash they make an unpleasant discovery. “What is that?” Curtis asks. That, my friend, is a naked, hairy ass. Alisha pokes the ass with her litter pick-up stick and helpfully informs him: “Hey, nude guy. You’re naked.” Nude Guy rolls over, to everyone’s chagrin (though it doesn’t stop Simon from snapping photos on his phone), though no one’s more upset than Nathan. “You!” He points and the man takes off running.
Turns out that was Jeremy, a.k.a. “The guy who lives with [Nathan’s] mum.” Kelly wants to know why he was naked. Alisha thinks he must be a pervert or gay, because the latter love rough trade, apparently. Curtis, continuing to prove himself as the most decent among them, calls Alisha’s logic into question and accuses her of “light homophobia.” Curtis, you win the episode again, and while I support what you’re saying, the phrase “light homophobia” sounds like a diet food for bigots. Lucky for you, the crazy way my mind works is not one of your many problems.
Kelly posits that Jeremy might be a rapist, as “there’s loads of them ‘round here.” See, she even has a good reason for being violent all the time. That and the freak storms turning people into crazy murderers. Simon thinks that Jeremy might be a werewolf, for which Nathan calls him a twat. Simon explains that’s what happens in films: after a person’s been transformed into a werewolf they often wake up naked somewhere.
Given what happened to them last week, the theory’s much less crazy than it might have been otherwise. Nathan reasons against the werewolf theory: “If he was a werewolf he’d be able to open a jar of peanut butter for himself.” Fair point, though I could see my beloved squeaky George having a problem with a tightly sealed jar of pickles and George was a totally bad-ass werewolf. Kelly, the other smart one in the group, points out that maybe the storm messed him up, but Nathan’s incredulous (or rather, refuses to believe). This means, of course, that Nathan’s stepfather is a werewolf. Or something like that.
Inside the community center the misfits’ latest assignment is to socialize with a group of seniors at a dance. At least they get to ditch the jumpsuits for the task. Kelly and Nathan peer at a man slumped in a chair, trying to determine if he’s still alive. Nathan leans down and shouts in the man’s ear: “She’s stealing your pension!” Hah. The man jumps awake. “Nope, he’s fine,” Nathan concludes.
The old man gives Nathan a run for his one-liner money; Kelly overhears him muse “my mouth’s as dry as a badger’s chuff.” Kelly offers him a cup of tea as she starts to get the hang of this whole telepathic thing.
New Probation Worker (we still don’t have a name for her yet) tries to talk Alisha into dancing with one of the seniors. Alisha has a very good reason for not wanting to, but of course all she can do is fake utter disinterest at the idea (though, it might not be all that fake). The man chosen by the probation worker, Harry, is actually rather sweet, and he tells Alisha “it would be an honor” to dance with her. But, of course, the second they take hands the fervor kicks in, and, in some ways, what we learn about Harry makes me like him more. He’s poetic in his creepiness, telling her he’d like to taste her “sweet cherry lips” and “I’d give my life to spend a night between your dusky thighs.” I mean, it’s a totally horrible thing to say to someone out of the blue, but compared to what came out of Curtis’ and Simon’s mouths it’s kind of sweet, if still in a really terrible way.