Episode 17 – “Eden”
As the opener suggests, “everything comes to an end eventually.” In light of DarliFra’s reality show purgatory, that statement brings relief.
The Child Slaves spend another afternoon “idling by” at the expense of the viewer’s sanity. Before The AniMessenger assumes the fetal position, the 9s barge into the BFF Mansion to spice things up. Unfortunately, their seasoning makes things taste even worse.
Meanwhile, Captain Adorable and his horny bride-to-be play house, verbally copulate, and fondle each other’s forehead tusks. Zero Two cutely reminds Hiro that she literally ate that ol’ picture book–you know, the one about the monster that tortures herself for love? This fairy-tale romance playing out before The AniMessenger’s eyes certainly won’t end in tragedy, right?
Finally, we catch a whiff of Papa’s ultimate, secret, classified plan to turn his abductees into a pack of normies: give ‘em thick texts on the human reproductive system. Such psychological manipulation gives rise to anomalous behavior–namely, precious tickle fights and creepy doll hugging. The 9s cannot abide such blatant disregard of decorum and deliver the deviants a formal citation.
Mitsuru and Kokoro nearly propel the show into the stratosphere via a steamy “sticking bodies together” session, but instead we get suggestive shots of Hiro and Mitsuru floating in water. The episode’s extreme sexual awkwardness reveals a fatal crack in the narrative facade: Nishigori and his crack team of writers expect the audience to unironically absorb Kokoro’s “I want to make a baby” statement.
The dystopian world bans old-school reproduction, but, according to the Blonde Boy, encourages gender fluidity? A strange dichotomy, even for DarliFra. Without any additional context, the situation takes on an air of unintentional hilarity rather than gravitas. Yet Nana’s breakdown tempers the absurdity, hinting at a–
Episode seventeen splits the plot between slife-of-life doldrums and dark dystopo-nuggets–i.e. half abysmal, half intriguing. The various love affairs may elicit squeals from the more romantically inclined fans, but not The AniMessenger–this wizened old cynic bids the cuteness “good riddance,” ready to bathe in the Klaxxosaur Princess’s apocalyptic grime as the harem house burns to the ground.
And, please remember:
~ Don’t Shoot the Messenger