DOWNTON ABBEY PHOTOCAP: All I Want For Christmas Is Downton!

Oh my gosh. Downton Abbey has wrapped up its second season, and I’m in official withdrawal. Literally, when the episode ended, I fantasized for a good five minutes about living in a lush, British country home replete with dark green walls, wooden accents, paintings of hunting dogs, and plaid as far as the eye can see. And no, I’m not talking about hipster plaid. I’m talking about dusty, old plaid. And perhaps some tweed. I’m in serious fantasy mode, people, and I’m not sure I can wait until next January for another scant, seven-week season.

It will be exciting to see the show move into the twenties, but as the twentieth century marches on, so does the decline of the old guard, and I’m not sure I’m prepared to watch that. Can’t we hop in a time machine and enjoy a prequel season? One that takes place in 1901? That’s a fun time, yes? Full of Edwardian etiquette and fashions!

So many things happened on the finale: Matthew punched Sir Richard CarLISLE; Daisy accepted William as her dead husband; Rosamund got played by a con-artist; and Edith met up with her former flame (and apparently all that naughtiness that Mary had stirred up at the end of season one had already been clarified. Huh).

The real action in the finale, however, centered around the two central love stories: Mary and Matthew and Anna and Mr. Bates. Things in the latter sphere weren’t the best. Mr. Bates went on trial for killing Mrs. Bates, and somehow the prosecution was aware of every little tidbit or passing comment that had occurred inside the walls of Downton Abbey. That’s why Robert wound up on the stand, forced to repeat that fateful comment of Mr. Bates’, who had said that he’d wished his wife was not the ex-Mr. Bates but the LATE Mr. Bates. It’s shocking that Robert remembered the line verbatim. It’s even more shocking that the prosecution knew of it. Hmm.

Nevertheless, Bates was sentenced to death, which afforded some tremendously acted scenes by Anna (her sobbing in the arms of Mrs. Hughes should earn her some award attention, in my opinion). Anna’s lot certainly had changed, what with her soon to be the widow of a convicted murderer. She needed to get away, and luckily, the perfect opportunity had opened up for her.

You see, things between Mary and Sir Richard CarLISLE had grown so miserable that even Robert had noticed. He asked his wife why his daughter would stay with such a terrible man, causing Cora to cock her head to the side in her patented “Now I’m going to tell you something unpleasant” way. At last, she divulged all to her husband. Everything about Mr. PaMUK came to the fore, and at last, Robert knew the awful, SLUTTY truth about his daughter.

Either way, Robert decided he’d rather have a happy daughter, even if she were to be scandalized by Richard in the papers. He told her to dump Richie’s stupid ass and flee to NY to be with Grandmother for a few months until the craziness subsided. Naturally, it was the perfect opportunity for Anna to join along.

Ah, but then in came news from the courts. Mr. Bates’ sentence had been reduced to a mere life in prison, which meant that Anna no longer wanted to go abroad. She could visit her sweet honeybear behind bars.

So would Mary be heading off alone? Not quite. Matthew, who had been resisting the urge to give into his love for Mary, finally caved. In the last minutes of the finale, Matthew dropped down on one knee and asked for Mary’s hand in marriage (and yes, he had found out about her PaMUKscapades — who doesn’t love a good capades?). With the flurries falling gently, Mary said yes, and the season ended on a wonderfully happy note. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

What does season three have in store for us? I don’t know. And I can’t wait to find out…

“Here’s your Christmas gift, O’Brien: socks!”

“You better hope she gets you a vibrator because it’ll be a while before you see Mr. Bates.”

Edith: “Do you suppose paPA has bought me a tractor?”
Rosamund: “Don’t be silly. Tractors are only for pretty girls.”

Dowager Countess: “And what pray tell is this Medieval contraption of horrors?”
Isobel: “It’s a nutcracker. One MUST be useful around nuts.”
“That’s what she said.”
“And who might she be?”
“I… I don’t know. It’s an expression.”
“Ah. I see. Very well. Do tell this lady you speak of that if she too wishes to enjoy a nutcracker, I shall write to the foreign office at once. There is a nutcracker surplus with the refugees, you see.”
“You really know how to kill a joke, don’t you?”
“Do I?”
“Forget it.”

“MATTHEW. I see you’ve arrived.”
“I have.”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
“Very well then.”
“Good talk.'”

“Mary, are you sure you’re quite well. You look like you’re on the verge of spewing out a SLUTTY confession.”

“Slutty? No. Regarding Mr. PaMUK? Hardly. He died in my bed? What? No. I don’t know these words I’m saying. HEAVENS.”

“Thomas, are you ready to talk with the dead?”

“What’s it to yeww?”

“What’s what to me?”

“IT. To YEWWW.”

“I have a mind to not tell you anything.”

“Why not?”

“What’s it to YEWWW?”

“No. What’s it to YEW!!!!”

“What’s everyone doing?”

Both: “WHAT’S IT TO YEWWWWWWW???”

“Well done.”
“You too.”

“I’M A BITCH!”

“Okay. First word!”

“A foreigner trying to be civilised!!!”

“No! No!”

Edith: “A tractor!!”

“Mary, do try to be USEFUL in this game!”

Edith: “I know! I know!!! A tractor! Wait, I already said that.”

“Mrs. Bates!!”

Richard: “I’m bored.”
Violet: “I’m aroused.”

“People, FOCUS.”

Edith: “MR. PAMUK AFTER YOU SEXED HIM TO DEATH!!!”

[crickets]

Edith: “I mean… a tractor!!!”

“Hullo! I’m here to see Edith!”

“Oh dear. I fear he’s a homosexual.”

“I suppose it’s better than nothing. Maybe he has a tractor?”

“MARY. I must ask you something: do you enjoy Wheel of ForTUNE?”

“Behold, Cora, I have made fire with MY MIND!!!!!”

“Cora, do you suppose that Mary has a secret? A slutty secret perhaps?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t think so either. Wait, WHAT?”

“Our daughter — she’s a huge, deadly slut.”

“Terrible lighting in this courtroom.”

“Do you have your verdict?”
“Yes. GUILTY!”

Anna: [squeak!]
Mary: “Be strong, Anna!”
“It’s not that. I just remembered that I forgot to mail my afternoon letters!”

“Matthew, I’ve been thinking. I’d like to donate this umbrella to the refuGEES. One must make oneself useful during raintime.”

Matthew: “La la LAAAA!!!”
Mary: “Please stop singing.”

“Anna, what’s wrong?”
“I lost my Netflix DVD!”

“I have something to say: I like peanut butter.”

“Peanut butter? Why, I ought to…”

“RAH!”

“ME MAD. ME WANT TO KILL.”
Mary: “Heavens!”

“Good sir, if you do not release your hands, I will have to engage you in thoroughly polite fisticuffs!”

“GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!”

“Bow down to HRH MY FIST!”

“STOP THIS AT ONCE!! This is about as absurd as that time when Carson served soup ten minutes late!”

“Don’t tell me you’re wearing tuxedos. What is this? A BARNYARD?”

“HEAVENS.”

“D’ya think anyone will notice that I stuffed my hair with dinner rolls?”

“What’s going on in here? I thought I heard a mule choking on peanut brittle.”

“Rosamund!”

“JEFF PROBST?”

“I can explain!”

“The tribe has spoken indeed!”

“Forgive me for saying this, Mary, but… DAMN!”
“HEAVENS!!!!!”

“I do hope you didn’t loan him any moneys.”

“Oh dear. Forgive me for the vulgarity again, Mary, but… SHOOT!”

“Aunt Rosamund, you are without control!”

“I apologize in advance, but… CURSES!!!”

“Heavens!!!!”

“Bloody hell!”

“Please, Aunt Rosamund. This is beneath you.”

“I must say one more thing.”
“Please don’t.”
“I must!”
“Fine. Say it.”
“Blast!”
“Oh dear. The vulgarities!”

“Mary, I must ask you this question.”

“My Lil’ Crawley has been to hell and back, and I would like ot make him useful.”

“And you don’t mind that my Lady Flower has been plucked?”

“I don’t care if you’re the biggest slut this side of Crudgington Telford Shropshire!”

“I am! I am the biggest slut this side of Crudgington Telford Shropshire!”

“Kiss me, you slutty vixen!”
“Heavens!!!”

What did you think about the finale?