This past Sunday marked the end of the fourth season of
Downton Abbey, and there’s plenty of buzz on the webisphere that people are
ready for Mr. Bates to just be killed off already.
Personally, I don’t have a problem with him,
and I certainly don’t have a death wish for him.
But I must admit he doesn’t hold the same
untarnished, upstanding reputation and charm he used to.
Did he kill Mr. Green?
Why is he an expert at forgery?
Why does the twinkle in his eye come off as creepy
and murderous these days instead of delightful like it used to?
Bro’s got secrets, and I’m betting they are
dark ones.
Meanwhile,
Bates Motel starts its second season this Monday, and I am anticipating this
premiere more anxiously than Vince Vaughn awaits wedding season. Based on the trailer, it looks like things
are going to get even crazier this time around.
Though we’ll see a lot of the same psychos
we’ve come to know and love (see what I did there?), there are rumors of some
new faces as well. One newcomer I wouldn’t
mind seeing in White Pine Bay? Mr.
Bates. That’s right, I’m proposing the
ultimate collision of worlds: Downton Abbey meets Bates Motel, in the ultimate
TV special—“Mr. Bates’ Motel.”
Norma
and Norman are back and creepier than ever, and Bates Motel—their family-run
motel—is finally starting to pick up business.
But wait, what’s that? A new
motel just opened down the street? “Mr.
Bates’ Motel?” Is this guy for real with
that name? Frustrated, Norma and Norman
head down the street to investigate, hand in hand. You know, because it’s unseasonably cold out
and they forgot to wear gloves. Not for
any other reason. Nothing to see here
folks, just a 17 year old boy holding hands with his mom. Moving on.
Norma
and Norman arrive at Mr. Bates’ Motel with tempers blazing (and, it must be
said, a palpable sexual tension between them), ready to ream out the lowlife
responsible for putting their business in jeopardy. But their fiery tempers are abruptly
extinguished when a polite, older British gentleman dressed as a butler greets
them at the door, proffering tea and crumpets.
Get a load of this guy, Norman
mouths to his mother, he is an absolute
treat! Norma nods in agreement. He
really is darling, she mouths back. Like something out of a Jane Austen novel. I wonder what he’s doing working for a nasty
old deadbeat like this Bates fellow.
The two gaze fondly at each other, then at the butler, who shuffles his
feet and clears his throat in obvious discomfort, having been a mere foot away,
plate of crumpets still in hand, for this entire exchange.
“Ahem…allow
me to introduce myself,” he begins, with what Norma and Norman silently agree is
the most adorable British accent they’ve ever heard. “I am Mr. Bates. Welcome to my motel. I’m sorry if the crumpets are a bit dry. It’s my wife Anna’s recipe, but I don’t think
I used enough buttermilk. Oh
bother! But I’m rambling. What can I do for you Lord and Lady Bates?”
“Please,
call us Norma(n),” replies Norma, smiling and blushing furiously. “You see, the thing is Mr. Bates…we only just
recently opened our motel—Bates Motel—down the street, and business is just
starting to pick up. And now here you
are, with your own motel, a mere block away, and those dreamy, twinkling eyes
of yours…” At this point, Norman elbows
Norma sharply, snapping her out of her reverie.
“Right, yes, so anyway,” she continues, “surely you can see how this
puts us in bit of a tricky position…And you’re wrong about the crumpets by the
way—absolutely delicious. Your wife must
be an excellent cook!”
“She
was,” Bates replies cryptically, a twinkle in his eyes that Norma and Norman silently
agree is both absolutely adorable and also “a little murdery.” “Anyway, I am sorry for any inconvenience I’ve
caused,” he continues. “Twas never my
intention to draw business away from your impressive establishment. I merely came here to get away from…some
things, back in England, and to have a fresh start after some…other
things. I’m afraid I can’t really say
more about it than that, but you understand, don’t you?”
They do
not understand at all, but nod enthusiastically nonetheless. Who could disagree with those sparkling eyes,
like two glittering jewels set perfectly against the backdrop of a gentle but
rugged face?
After
an awkward beat during which Mr. Bates realizes that Norma and Norman have
nothing to say—and will continue to nod and smile at him with a strange desire
in their eyes unless he does something—he continues. “So, that’s the deal. Mr. Bates’ Motel is here to stay. But I do promise not to make any trouble for
you two—if you can promise not to mention to the police any of the strange
things you may hear or see on or near the premises of my motel. Do we have an agreement?” He asks this last question in an ominous,
threatening tone that Norma and Norman silently agree is “totally dreamy.”
“Absolutely
we do,” Norma and Norman reply in perfect unison.
Truthfully, Norman would agree to anything this perfect man suggests,
short of dressing up like his mother.
And even that he might consider.
This Bates fellow is persuasive…
“Goodbye
Mr. Bates!” chorus Norma and Norman a few minutes later, skipping down his walk
arm in arm. “Thank you again for the
crumpets!”
Mr.
Bates smiles warmly, closes the door, and heads to the kitchen to clean up
after his earlier baking session. “That’s
the last time I make crumpets,” he chuckles to himself as he puts away the eggs,
flour, buttermilk, and rat poison.