Kimmy Gibbler is the world’s best dancer. She can do the Cabbage Patch. She can do the Roger Rabbit. She can do the Big Mac, the Kid ‘N’ Play, and the Running Man. She could probably even Dab, but it would end with her putting just a tiny bit of perfume behind each of her ears, which, let’s be honest, could look a little bit like the Dab if she did it with enough energy.
I don’t know what Ramona’s problem is with her mom and her patented dance, the Gibbler Gallop. It sort of looks like a step you would learn during the square-dancing lessons everyone took in elementary-school gym class. As I said, Kimmy Gibbler is an excellent dancer.
The best scene in “The Legend of El Explosivo” is when she shows off for Ramona’s dance crew; they are as impressed by all of the ’90s moves as they were by the No-reo’s she bought at the 89-cent store. What I really loved, though, was when Kimmy Gibbler spouted off all of the ’90s catchphrases all at once like, “As If. Oh snap. You go girl. Loser!” All she was missing was “Homie don’t play that” and “You down with OPP? (Yeah you know me).” Even still, I would like a GIF of that moment to play on a loop. I will make it my new Grindr profile pic, because if you aren’t down with the KGG then you better not know me.
When Ramona tells Kimmy Gibbler that she’s stuck in the ’90s, it’s a strange insult. Isn’t this entire show stuck in the ’90s? It’s not even trying to tip its hat to modernity or anything. Like the best saccharine sitcoms, it is nestled away in an era that doesn’t exist anymore. But, guess what, that is where everyone is trying to go back to. There is nothing as cool as the ’90s right now; every BuzzFeed quiz and nouvelle rave party wants to teleport us back to that time. Donald Trump would like to do the same. He wants to live back in the ’90s. The 1890s, but still.
Of course, Ramona and her friends think that Stephanie is the cool one. After all, she DJs at all of the best … wrestling events in Northern California? Stephanie’s career of choice makes absolutely no sense. On one hand, she’s talking about partying with Rihanna, but on the other, she plays the music at local Mexican wrestling events. How much can that actually pay? Like $35 and all the churros you can eat? Stephanie doesn’t really seem that cool, especially when she’s wearing a drape-y silk top that looks like a hair-salon smock made for hobbitses.
Kimmy Gibbler is sad that the teens don’t think she’s hip, so she retaliates by dressing up in her best Aunt Sassy windbreaker and driving them to their gig. When one member of the dance crew ends up sick — and I’m sorry, I don’t believe Kimmy Gibbler when she said she didn’t poison the poor kid — Kimmy Gibbler fills in and saves the day with her hip-hop inflected dance antics at a wrestling event held in the basement guild hall of the fourth-largest Catholic church in San Francisco. Thank God for Kimmy Gibbler. She always saves the day.
While we’re talking about ’90s catchphrases, it’s time we address Max’s catch phrase: “Holy chalupas.” Honestly, it’s the new “fetch.” It is never going to happen. It never gets a laugh, no one wants to hear it, and I think Max just needs to give it up. I’m surprised the show hasn’t aimed for more. Think about all the catchphrases the original series had, most of which were repeated in the Fuller House pilot: “How rude!”; “You got it, dude!”; “Have mercy!”; “Cut. It. Out!”; and “Did I do that?” Oh wait, that last one was from another show.
So, D.J. is all bent out of shape because Jackson (yes, I still want to call him Spencer) is hanging out with Bobby Popko, a no-good kid who likes to do crazy things because his parents are never around. First of all, every episode of this series is really about D.J. getting bent out of shape about something. That’s all she can do. She’s so bent she doesn’t even have any shape left.
But boys will be boys, as her co-worker Travis the Hunky Vet tells her. (I’m not entirely sure that is his name, but from now on, I am going to call every hot guy on this show Travis, because they don’t really have names or any other discernable characteristics. Also, Travis is a very sexy name. Travis is, ideally, an architect who has been in two long-term relationships but has no children. He’s about 33 years old, goes to the gym five times a week, but does not do Crossfit. He enjoys reality television, baking delicious desserts, and telling his significant other how special they are and that their feelings, whatever those feelings might be, are valid and essential. Marry me, Travis.)
Oh right, Fuller House. So, Travis tells D.J. that she has three boys and they will end up doing ridiculous and dangerous things all the time. I have two brothers and I will tell you we did ridiculous and dangerous things all the time. You might think it’s an exaggeration when Spencer (Jackson?) jumps off of the shed onto his little brother, who is lying on a mattress and wrapped in couch cushions. It is not. My brothers and I did that exact same thing. We also had this game called the Clock Cleaner Game that we played in the basement. There weren’t really any rules, but you bounced a tennis ball off the wall and the objective was to either hit one of your opponents really hard with the ball or knock them over while trying to get to the ball. It was the stupidest possible game imaginable, but man, did we have a lot of fun.
Jackson Spencer is right that his mom overreacted by grounding him so he can’t attend Lucha Kaboom. However, it’s also an overreaction to sneak out of the house, put on a wrestling mask, and get in the ring with two men dressed as Los Pollos Locos, a tag-team duo whose signature move is not understanding you when you place an order through the drive-thru speaker. Also wrong: how fake D.J.’s body double looked when she was taking down those chickens, single-handedly saving her son from bodily non-harm. Come on, it’s wrestling. More people get hurt at synchronized-swimming practice. Ramona probably had more injuries after performing a dance number than Spencer Jackson would have gotten in the ring.
At the end of the episode, mother and son both decide they were wrong and they hug it out. Now that is the ultimate ’90s dance move. Or maybe it’s whatever that little baby did in the “Nuthin’ but a G Thang” video. I wonder if Kimmy Gibbler does that one?
