Episode Report Card M. Giant: C+ | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT ImHoudini
By M. Giant | Season 4 | Episode 19 | Aired on 04.24.2005
I can't believe they made a series out of House and didn't cast William Katt.
It's 1:34:52. Missile Tech is doing his thing, ImhoTerror's posse charges through Angel's turf, things are kind of awkward outside the Undal Office, and CTU is regrouping. In the club basement, one of the CTU agents loots the Terror AV guy's corpse and finds the tape that ImhoTerror just shot. I guess that won't be making it to any TV stations before dawn after all. Unless of course ImhoTerror walks into CTU and walks right back out with it, which I wouldn't put past him. Curtis wants to know if anyone has asked the Veep "what the hell he was thinking, arresting Kiefer in the middle of the operation?" Bitchelle reminds him that they need to focus on finding ImhoTerror, even though they've already learned that the building is adjacent to a sewer line with at least 30 egress points. That's why he picked the place, probably. Seriously, CTU, don't even bother. I'm sure a new lead will come in soon anyway. It always does. Curtis has the ImhoTape, now bagged, and Bitchelle wants him to send it back to CTU with one of his men.
"How did ImhoTerror get past your men?" the Veep asks Buchanan over speakerphone. "This time?" he doesn't add. Buchanan explains that "they had to move in before they were ready…Secret Service showed up to take Kiefer into custody, which compromised one of our positions." The Veep and PMHC exchange a look, the Veep's one of horror, and PMHC's one of pure, uncut, weapons-grade I-told-you-so. They're now the only ones in the room, by the way, and PMHC is sitting even though the Veep is on his feet. I'm going to give the show the benefit of the doubt and assume that's intentional. Which, subtle. The Veep lamely says that wasn't his intent. "With respect, sir," Buchanan says with absolutely no respect, "your orders were explicit." PMHC asks what else they're working on, and Buchanan says they're "essentially without a lead." PMHC says they'll get back to him. It's 1:36:22. "Standing by," Buchanan says disgustedly.
PMHC disconnects the call and, though I wouldn't have thought it possible, amps up his contemptuous glare at his boss. "This is not my fault," the Veep complains, and walks back over to the Undal Office doors, bitching, "None of this would have happened if Kiefer hadn't disobeyed my orders in the first place." PMHC: "I'm sorry, sir, but if you're asking me to agree with that assessment, I can't." That's the trouble with working for the President of the United States: you have to use a lot more words to say "bullshit." Specifically, PMHC points out that Kiefer's the reason they located ImhoTerror in the first place. But anyway, CTU is waiting for instructions. "What would you like me to tell them, Mr. President?" After a long pause, the Veep delivers the not particularly earth-shattering news that he has no idea. He launches into a bout of self-flagellation. PMHC finally gets to his feet and approaches the Veep, saying, "You are the President of the United States." "I shouldn't be," the Veep pity-parties. He wants to resign. PMHC snaps that that's not an option; three presidents in as many hours would destroy the public's confidence. ["I loved that line. Like we'd be fine up through repeated terrorist strikes, a meltdown, CTU tagging division heads in and out like a WWE match, and the Air Force One crash, but a third president would be the last straw. Good thing Ciccolella is already used to delivering that crap with a straight face." -- Sars] "Then what should I do?" The Veep whines. "Tell me what to do." PMHC looks momentarily taken aback at having just been made the de facto POTUS, then quickly rallies. He says, "There's someone who can advise you better than I can." The Veep asks who, but he's already nodding in relief. I think he'd be glad to get some help from Yahoo Serious at this point.
It's 1:38:37, and someone's watching a news report about President Keeler being in critical condition. A cordless phone on the table right next to the chair rings, and a beefy guy with a wire running out of his ear picks it up. "Sir, there's a secure call coming through for you," he says, walking the half-step necessary to hand off the ringing receiver. "Thank you, Adam," says the incredibly lazy former President David Palmer, and answers the phone as the Secret Service agent leaves him alone in the room. Just when Palmer was going to sit back and enjoy the fact that he didn't pursue a second term. PMHC, calling from inside the Undal Office, apologizes to his ex-boss for disturbing him so late, but Palmer says he's been up following the news. Until nearly five in the morning local time, no less. He's still dressed, even. "It's a tragic day for our country," Palmer says. Dude, you don't have to talk like that any more. PMHC agrees, and cuts to the chase: since Palmer's last intelligence briefing three hours ago, ImhoTerror has nabbed himself a warhead. PMHC explains about the Football to a shocked Palmer, and says that the Veep needs help with the crisis. "What kind of help?" asks Palmer. "Substantial," says PMHC. He wants Palmer to run the effort to recover the warhead. "A crisis is looming," PMHC promos. "Hard choices need to be made." And the Veep's not up for it. "We need your leadership." Palmer says he wants to talk to the Veep face-to-face before he agrees to anything. PMHC agrees, because it's not like Palmer's going to come to the White House and then turn right around and go home. It's 1:40:42.