You know when WASP neighbors go around leaving secret gifts on each other’s doorsteps around Halloween with a note that reads “You just got Booed!”? Well leaving a rotting human’s skeleton for the prosecutor who’s after you is like the criminal version of Booing. SO festive. As you remember that’s how last week’s episode ended—and this week we pick up with headlines of Lucious being a free man, cleared of all charges, which means this stunt he pulled must have been about as casj as neighborhood fun and games. APPARENTLY putting a dead body that you dug up in a lawyer’s car throws them off the scent because the charges have disappeared into thin air, and so has that prosecutor with an enormous rack. (Gone2Soon.)
Although boob city is gone, her equally as outrageous competitive counterpart, Thirsty seems to be hanging around, to pick up Vernon’s old duties at Empire, AKA professional shadiness. Thankfully, we get to hear him welcome Andre back to Empire with a sneering “Nice to see you without a shovel.” But besides that these two butt heads because Thirsty is now Lucious’s puppet for all things dirty business while Andre is now one with G-o-d. I REALLY want to be on Team Andre here, but he’s wearing a chin strap these days that is starting to resemble historical American’s mutton chop style and I hate it a whole lot.
Lucky for him the hoes in glitter hot pants that Lucious has gathered in the boardroom for Andre’s welcome back fiesta don’t care what Dre’s facial hair looks like. This party is really fitting for someone who just found Jesus and is about to be a dad. We can all see, short of a pants tent, that Lucious is enjoying Andre’s double team lap dance much more than his son. Meanwhile, Rhonda just wants to bone her husband because she’s all sorts of pregnancy horny and EVEN after she tells him she’s panty-less, he’s like meh, you’re a little late, my welcome party was hours ago. JK he talks about how much he wants the whole family to come together and watch him confess his sins as he is baptized into the church. Rhonda’s like good F’ing luck with that.
Over in Dynasty land (which could easily be the name of a strip club, jus sayin), Cookie directs a photo shoot of Tiana by shouting “WORK IT!” a lot and we see that it took Hakeem about five seconds to sign the virgin bar singer, Laura. Something tells me by the way Laura’s Bambi’ing around the studio gawking that she won’t last long in this cutthroat biz where Hakeem thinks it’s ok to smooch every single one of his signed recording artists.
Then Tiana is approached by two street rats outside of the studio for a selfie, one suddenly burps up a razor and in the blink of an eye they’ve robbed her. It was a pretty peculiar way to get mugged and I’ll probably have nightmares about someone producing a razor on their tongue for quite some time. It turns out they’re part of a masked terrifying gang. So THAT makes it better. The gang is trying to extort Lyon Dynasty for money and Cookie’s like they obviously don’t know who the F they’re dealing with. I take no greater pleasure than when street savvy Cookie comes out to play and you can tell by her tone that she’s about to teach these thugs a lesson.
Unfortunately still not on board with his bo$$ bitch mom is Jamal, who now has Lucious producing his album. If you’re wondering what Lucious as a producer looks like—it’s a fully grown man wearing sunglasses inside, a cardigan, and throwing his arms lazily around like he’s Drake in the Hotline Bling music video.
That’s not even the most entertaining part, because out of thin air, Ne-Yo appears to give his expert opinion. Ne-Yo is now a hipster with a fedora and round glasses and he’s also been pulled on board to help Jamal with his record and tour with him for a few because he obviously has nothing better to do. Jamal’s boyf, Michael meets Ne-Yo, pretty calmly tells him he’s a huge fan and Lucious dismisses the boyf like he just screeched SQUAD GOALS and forced Ne-Yo to take a selfie with him. Lucious strongly advocates that Jamal ditch his “girlfriend” for tour life.
Oh, yes and creeptastic photographer that I assumed would be a one and done terrible character has clung on for a second appearance unfortunately to burrow his head in between Jamal and Michael, literally. First he tries to give a surprise beej to Jamal in the club after getting him hammered, his reasoning of course, “a mouth is a mouth,” #noble. Jamal rejects him and then later ruins a “dope session” with Ne-Yo with his relayshe probz. Ne-Yo shows us his sensitive side when he LITERALLY tips his cap and advises Jamal to bring his boyfriend on tour if that’s what he wants and to never ever take relationship advice from that slut Lucious. PREACH. Then Ne-Yo does a lot of spirit fingers while Jamal sings—oh yeah and Michael allows pervy artist to slob on his knob at Jamal’s party later soooooo it’s looking like rocky roads ahead for these two.
Brothers who throw parties together, stay together. Unfortunately that’s not really the case for Hakeem and Jamal, who throw separate parties on the same night. While Jamal is showing off his nipples in a low-cut Henley at his house, Hakeem is whoring all over his female singers at his respective party. He tries to grind all up on Laura (initiation) and she’s like hey I have standards, thanks. YOU GO, GIRL! In the end Hakeem matures—sorry that was a strong word to use for someone who says, “I’m on my mogul swag now and you the real deal”—which is what he says to woo Laura back the next day, no kissies involved. He promises not to try and pork her again and even offers up his personal driver to show how serious he is. It’s cute, in like a skeevy way.
Even though Dynasty is under attack, Cookie is still trying to grow the business and that’s how we meet our latest guest star, Adam Rodriguez (lick) whose playing a promoter interested in working with Cookie and fingers crossed, WERRRRRKINNN with her, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. While he’s there talking biz with her in a flirty way, Lucious’s minions have broken in to steal their masters. Hot stuff and Cookie manage to get the tracks back, kick their asses, and show off that they are each packing. Some, more than others, WINK.
Anyway, as you would expect, the family that kills together ends up reuniting in church for Andre’s baptism. It actually is precious that everyone comes through for Dre and EVEN though Lucious told his son to man the hell up because tap water does not wash shit away, he still finds it in his black hole of a heart to attend. Unfortunately as the don of the family enters the church (late of course), I couldn’t help but get the feeling that he was about to have his three biggest competitors simultaneously offed while he witnessed Andre’s baptism. Although if we’re being realistic, the only people he has left to kill at this point are in that church. Therefore, instead of a “Do you renounce Satan?” POW-POW-POW scene, it’s just more of Lucious being an ass, i.e. when Andre says he loves his father and Lucious responds with, I know you do. And of course, Cookie finds the front pew in church a perfectly approps place to hand a surveillance bug over to Lucious and tell him to stick it up his ass. Thank God for Cookie, oh yeah and Andre’s baptism, I guess, which Lucious ducks out of before the grand finale because he apparently used to get water boarded by his bipolar mom for swearing. Since we can’t ever let the Lyon family give us the warm and fuzzies without a little trouble, after the baptism Hakeem is straight ‘napped while running, by of course the sketchy razorblade mouth gang. They stick a bag over his head, but leave his glistening, sweaty six-pack on display for us to ‘preciate. And ‘preciate them, I did.
Drip-Drops: (This is what I’ve decided to call commentary that I would like to make but doesn’t fit into a paragraph.)
-Portia interrupting Cookie’s sexy meeting to introduce her grandmother’s dog Whooptie-Woo as a guard dog was straight up gold. She earned her job back just with the pup’s name.
-Fashion W of the night: Cookie’s hot pink satin jacket. It was like a sexy businesswoman Barbie.
-Poor Uncle Vern, even after he’s murdered no one wants his ashes. R.I.P on someone’s mantle.
-This rapper that Lucious drooled all over sucks. Freda sounds like a man and her rapping is the woooooorst. Go away, punk.
-The only worthwhile cookie-ism this week is when she shouts “Tell Lucious to kiss my black ass.”
vs. 
(no contest)
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The Salty Ju 