Episode Report Card Erin: B- | 1 USERS: B YOU GRADE IT Pssst. Lauren's evil. Pass it on.
By Erin | Season 3 | Episode 18 | Aired on 04.10.2004
GothSyd gets up in Cypher's face, telling him that the worm he created is helping the Covenant launch a biological weapon. You know, in case we all forgot that part. As GothSyd takes a page out of The Exposition Fairy Handbook: Exposition Dances for Dummies, Evilauren continues to look for a window of opportunity to shoot the shit outta Cypher. Cypher, to his credit, looks totally freaked at the prospect of being responsible for thousands of deaths, and just says, "I didn't know. He didn't tell me." Syd's all, WHO? Cypher's all, a guy. He was young! British! Well, that was easy. Someone call Scotland Yard and tell them that Prince Harry's abusing his cell phone privileges again!
Vaughn asks Cypher why the worm is attacking medical facilities. Cypher tells Vaughn that it wasn't designed to do that, that instead it was designed to be capable of -- BAM! Evilauren's decided to throw caution to the wind and just shoot Cypher in the neck, right in plain sight. Cypher starts choking blood. Evilauren runs off. Syd goes after her while Vaughn looks after Cypher. Suddenly, Cypher hands Vaughn something shiny. Evilauren sees this and hurries off. Before she does, however, Syd clearly spots her. Evilauren turns and moves off. Syd catches up and spins her around…only to find that it's another waitress. And that's when she sees that all the waitresses are dressed exactly alike, and that glimpse of Evilauren might just have been her imagination. Yeah, if by "imagination" you mean, "Dead on and practically psychic."
Evilauren and her Black Lipstick of Loathsomeness exit the club and immediately call Sark to complain about how that whole shooting Cypher thing didn't quite go as planned. In fact, he managed to give the virus files to the CIA. Sark's all, oh, great. Nice going, moron! If they have the source code, they can stop the worm from circulating and we'll lose everything. Moronen's all, no! It'll be okay! If I can just corrupt the original files before they make a copy…Sark's all, uh, that's a huge risk, dude. Moronen's all, oh, what, and letting Bomani know I failed isn't? Before Sark can say, "Well, actually, seeing as I'm going to shoot Bomani in just a little bit, I'd say the chances of him being any kind of risk to anyone are slim and none," Moronen hangs up the phone and runs off to pack her wig and gun and several fake passports into the false bottom of a suitcase that she's just going to leave in her closet so her husband will easily find it later and furrow his brow so hard it actually brings up the closing credits.
Uncle Arvin's Cage Of Caginess. The door buzzes, and Jack enters. Sloane leaps to his feat. So I guess he's only chained up when Dixon's around. Heh. It just occurred to me that Jack may very well be the only man that Sloane actually fears. And vice versa. Heh heh heh. Jack grits that Dixon's only given him clearance to discuss The Passenger. Sloane's all, oh, yeah, The Passenger. Whatever, dude. I already told you everything I know about that lame plotline. I just told Dix that so he'd let me spend some quality time with mah bra! What up, homie?! "This is no time for games," Jack snits. "This is no game, Jack!" Sloane almost-but-not-quite yells. "This is my life." God, I just love these two men. You know, when the stories suck and the action's lame and the sets all resemble Mexico, I may bitch and moan about this show, but it's Ron Rifkin and Victor Garber and Jennifer Garner and Michael Vartan and Greg Grunberg and David Anders and Carl Lumbly and the majority of the passing guest stars who keep me coming back. What? I'm not crying. I'm not. I'm sweating. Because the effort of loving this show, especially when it's dismal, is equivalent to running a one-minute mile, people.