When you share a Netflix account with your boyfriend, your parents, and inevitably the grandchildren, “Suggestions for You” is nothing shy of a clusterfuck. Let’s see here… My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic…. Father Brown: priest-turned-sleuth… or Scandal. The cover alone tickles up a “pop-star-does-horror” vibe. But I was desperate. Reeling from withdrawal from a Battlestar Galactica addiction, I needed a show that would suck in my fracking soul and spit me out addled from all the plot twists. While Scandal has its fair share of surprising turns, its brilliance lies in witty dialogue, reality-defying monologues, and the perfect balance of tension and release.

Shonda Rhimes’ Scandal: think Mad Men goes to Washington. Think West Wing with less sunshine and a lot more policy indifference. Think Kerry Washington is a total babe. Or stop thinking altogether and bathe in the co-dependency of I-want-you-I-had-you-I-hate-you-I-still-want-you love. Who doesn’t appreciate the leader of the free world pining after Washington’s untouchable Olivia Pope — political genius, self-termed “fixer,” and undeniable bad-ass?

As a former campaign manager and aid to President Grant, Olivia now runs the hill by helping the high and mighty with their would-be scandals. She is the sensei of perception as capital. Olivia is backed by a small team of fixers with fierce loyalty and their own set of interesting back stories. In Olivia’s world of fixing, she is unstoppable, sharp, and surprisingly cutthroat. At one junction she cuts off the a client’s entitled daughter mid-self-pity-party:

“Poor little rich girl.”
“Excuse me?”
“What was it? He worked late, she missed your dance recitals, they threw you in reform school, rehab, they tried to buy your love instead of earning it? Whatever they told you in therapy, whatever sad cliche you’re still holding on to after all these years, it doesn’t matter. No one feels sorry for you, not anymore.”

Rants like these. Biting. Exactly the words you wish you could say if you had the ferocity, or the writers. These rants are less a product of Scanda’s individual characters as they are the general character of the show-and Shonda Rhimes. Everyone in Scandal seems to be blessed with achingly good monologues.

But when it comes to monologuing, no one comes close to Cyrus Beene. As the chief of staff to the president, Cyrus always toes the edge of crisis, using his verbal prowess to keep everything from falling off of a cliff. If anyone has doubts that Cyrus is the best character on Scandal, observe:

While the clever monologues lend Scandal an AMC-caliber quality, the true genius of Scandal is the writers’ understanding of both audience attention and curiosity. As partakers of story, we need movement, advancement, answers. We are given all of this in the mini-story arcs taking place within each episode.

But more than the audience high that comes from small-scale problem-solving, we need tension. We need resolution withheld. And we need that which is withheld to grind on our emotions- to leave us reeling just enough to feel out the possibilities, to anticipate the denouement. Rhimes and her writers know that when the larger underlying story of Fitz’ (President Grant) and Olivia’s relationship has played out, the show will have little left to sustain its audience.

So I applaud Scandal- thank you for not giving us what we want! And thank you for making me so damn confused about what it is that I actually do.

Anne Taylor contributed this article to The Stake. Anne is currently a chainsaw wielding, lacrosse dominating resource manager living in St. Paul, MN.