Episode 880-888

Stella has surgery. Because Stella is special, this takes about as long as the combined killer virus and voodoo arcs (look, pig costume even makes an appearance!). In fact, we were so inspired by the sophistication of the procedure that we promptly performed a risky and difficult Stella-ectomy on this entire clip. Any remaining traces of Stella are unavoidable and you guys will just have to learn how to deal with them in physio. As a preventive measure, we prescribe an abundance of wibbling Öztürks and pained glances between Lars and Oliver.

And so it came to pass that Stella Celeste Margareta Alyrissa Rhiannon Serena Lily Coretti bade farewell to fictional Essen. And people came from across the land to bask once more in her pure goodness and wise words.

Thus diminished a legend and went into the West, taking with her the ancient lore of how to snare your man (offer beer, then cocoa, then juice, then coffee, steal his sweater, promise his girlfriend you'll leave him alone, snog him, have the pesky girlfriend abducted by your father). Thus passed the tales of applesauce aversion therapy, tacky bracelets and dead mothers skating in heaven. And lo, there was much rejoicing among the green sheep who would henceforth no longer be slaughtered to clothe the Great One, and the knitted berets of the land scuttled back to the heads of the homeless and insane, whence they had come. And peppermint tea with two sugar lumps and a squirt of lemon flowed from the fountains, and old men in the mountains heard the soothing strains of Gangsta's Paradise blowing on the North Winds.

And then at last, the Great Ambulance came to carry her to the sacred resting ground of our ancestors, a place called Switzerland, where she shall be made whole and nevermore have plots revolving entirely around her injuries.

And lo, there was much rejoicing in the Igloo.

And EKP saw it and said, "IT IS GOOD."

PS: Actually, EKP is pretty much moving on and hope you will too, so let's turn our back on Stella bashing from now on, yeah? Sparklier pastures and all that. Look, tactless Roman! Squeeful boys! Olars poignancy! Wheeeee!

PPS: Yes, it's for real. No, they won't be coming back. MOVING ON.

PPPS: L'ARSE, WE'LL MISS YOU!!!

Cracky flatmate-hunting time at Casa WildTurkey! Meet Gerd and Bert. We love Gerd and Bert. Bert may or may not be a long-lost Carter brother or otherwise looking to start a boyband, and Gerd may bear an uncanny resemblance to a cross between an IKEA closet and a Norwegian lumberjack, but here at EKP we do not judge about such things. Not if Gerd and Bert unearth Deniz Öztürk's box o' toys and give rise to bad "coming early" jokes (get it, get it, "give rise to"? Yes, we are twelve). Not if we get a whacky speed-rooming montage out of it. And not if we get to giggle about Roman's indecently close relationship with his ceramic stovetop, which now gets introduced before the boyfriend (ROMAN! LOL).

But cracky entertainment value aside, there's also some lovely maturity and continuity moments, including chips-munching on the couch a la ep 325, some surprisingly sharp insights from Marian into his son-in-law (what? yes! we, too, are baffled), and Deniz and Roman's continued growth as a couple. C'mere, Show. Let us cuddle you tightly. We'll go shopping for strawberries and edible undies later, Y/Y?

PS: Oh yeah, and Katja nearly outbitched Mirror Twin! You go, girl. Also, there's Ben in a towel. Just saying.

(Sorry if this ep is a bit squished out of shape, guys. We may have given it too many hugs.)

Roman: You know what, it just so happens that my boyfriend is hot. Mrow.

EKP: Yes, yes, Roman, we had noticed. But you know what? You are also hot, especially when you do that sinuous oozy lap-sliding thing there. Mrow.

Roman: Pfaugh, who cares about hot. I am fondly teasing and snarky and plagued by many issues both real and imagined. You really don't want to deal with me.

EKP: Oh yes, yes, we do. And Deniz really wants to deal with you, too.

Deniz: Whilst sprawling naked on the couch. Or plotting clothes-ripping seduction later. Or wearing pants in the shower. (Don't ask. It's a thing.) Or delivering cuddles, Eskimo kisses, and exactly the right words at exactly the right moment. Repeatedly. Because I am that awesome.

EKP: We are in awe of your awesome. (How DO your legs fit on that couch?)

Deniz: Physics. Camera angles. Bendy me. Magic.

EKP: Wow.

Roman: Ahem. Can we get back to talking about me? I have career woes!

EKP: Schatz, when do you not?

Roman: ...well this time it's serious.

EKP: You know, we'd be all coddling and sympathetic, but 1) looks like your human wrappy-nuzzly blanket's got that covered and 2) our keen and hawk-like eyes spot a certain blossoming, braided adorkable skater over there TOTALLY ROCKING THE SHIT OUT OF THAT ICE who will soon find herself in totally unexpected and unpredictable need of a trainer, so we'll just hold off with that wailing and hair-tearing for a wee while, shall we? (Especially since this means you can turn your back on the pulsing beat of the hip life in Plauen and return to your designated two blocks of fictional Essen.) Instead, hand over the crisps and allow us to ogle Annette and Lena and Katja while thinking extremely unsisterly thoughts about all of them in a bathtub. Life is good and Show is marvellous.

Deniz: Roman, these women are strange and verbose yet devoid of sense. I am perturbed.

Roman: As long as they keep their grubby paws off the ceramic stovetop.

Because Annette is wise and full of foresight, she has learned from long years in the company of Roman Wild that it can be useful to just write important information down in case you're dealing with someone (like a spazzy baby sister) who babbles at you at lightning speed and won't let you get a word in edgewise. Well played, Annette. And thanks for enabling the skater/trainer powerduo, complete with teasing, stern lectures and Orgasm talk! (Ice, you'll have to be strong now. Don't crumble under the combined awesome of having both Roman and Katja on top of you. Oh, HELLO THERE, interesting imagery!)

In other news, Lena is still criminally adorable, Ben is channelling early Deniz Öztürk by looking sheepish and pretty and apologising a lot (we're okay with that), and MaJe... right, MaJe used to exist. Before Marian turned into a judgemental fool and Jenny's entire plot was reduced to walking in on various people to remind them who she is and that she USED TO MATTER.

If we weren't already smitten with Katja, we surely would be after her earnest insistence to pay Roman immediately instead of mooching. Not to mention the fab power training montage!

If we weren't already smitten with Roman, we surely would be when he gets his Srs Bizniz trainer mode on, asserts he's the boss of the flat, and almost drops out of Srs Bizniz trainer mode over ogling Deniz's ass.

If we weren't already smitten with Deniz, we surely would be after his dorky explanations that unfortunately Roman can't hand out freebies (yes, love, that's how employment generally works). And we'd have absolutely no defences left after that freaking adorable nosepoke into Katja's hair.

And if we weren't already smitten with Jenny, we surely would be after her anguished dance of pain and her awesome laydown of the sitch to Marian. Girl's got a point, mate. Time to take a plunge or step back from the cliff.

At last Bulle's found gainful employment in the insurance company's claims department. (OK, Show, we'll take this as a shout-out, but don't think it'll stop our clamouring for a full-out on-screen zombie plot.) Always the enabler for Roman and his friends, this time Bulle's bastardry leads to odd arse metaphors, bathroom cuddles, much-needed ass kicking, and EKPs new favourite catchphrase, "The fry stand is an institution." Still, comforting headbump and all, its not enough to staunch the visions of Rocky and his evil band of backup singers.

Meanwhile, Marian wears out the revolving door, Ben shows off some of that fancy art school learnin', and Deniz... helps. Adorably. (For the record, we fully approve of the hot tub idea.)

Maximilian swoops in to save his precious sprog... and leaves the frozen, shell-shocked, panic-attacked woman standing alone in the snow and the dark? Thanks for nothing, asswipe.

Also, people in fictional Essen still have not learned how to properly treat hypothermia. Come on, Katja, Annette can only get better if you get in the tub WITH her. It's all about the body warmth! (although okay, the Anningo cuddles were good too. It's been too long.)

And Ben tries to distract Oliver from his post-Lars blues by inviting him for BREAKFAST. Because BREAKFAST solves everything. IT'S THE MOST IMPORTANT MEAL OF THE DAY. Oh Ben, you cute wee cornflakes-obsessed Sexiest Soapstar bronze medallist, you.

(On a sane channel, the description for this would probably be "Baby Alexander is in serious danger! :( Baby Who? Danger wot? WE DEMAND SISTERSLASH.)