Episode Report Card Erin: C | 1 USERS: B- YOU GRADE IT Blowback? Blow me.
By Erin | Season 3 | Episode 14 | Aired on 03.06.2004
Vaughn kind of wanders over to the corner, rubbing his eyes. Syd asks him if something's wrong. Vaughn's all, nah. Just getting old, I guess. Oh, and my wife's a MOLE. Syd's all, you expect me to believe that? Vaughn's all, dude? I just have a lot on my mind, that's all. It'll pass. As soon as I have my wife KILLED. "Yesterday was the day, wasn't it?" she asks. "The anniversary of your father's death?" Vaughn just looks at her, his breath caught in his chest. He lets it out with an expression of surprise on his face. "How could you remember that?" "I remember what missing him does to you," Syd responds with a soft smile. They share a moment, but then Vaughn's Evil Bitch of a Wife has to interrupt by calling him on his cell. Evil Bitch. EVIL BITCH. Heh. That feels gooood. Excuse me while I dance around in a circle and say that a thousand times in a row. S'fun.
Vaughn leaves the room and heads out into Oops Center to chat with Evil Bitch. Their conversation is really boring and short. Basically, she just asks how his day has been, he says it sucks, she gets called away, then tells him she loves him, but Syd passes by just as Vaughn would normally respond, "Love you too," and he looks after Syd and just says, "You too." Heh. He so doesn't love her anymore. Evil Bitch, I mean; not Syd. Syd he loves. He lurrrrrves. Yeah. I think I need another beer.
Then we're back in Zurich, where Sloane is enjoying a trough of wine. Seriously, the glass is bigger than his head. Unfortunately, it's only a quarter filled with wine. That's not a drink! Fill 'er up! Speaking of filling things up, Dr. Nancy's just arrived, and she seems to have left the better portion of both her breasts back at the hotel. Holy mother of GOD, what possessed the costume department (and Patricia Wettig herself) to slap this ungodly black dress on a body clearly not meant for it? I mean, Patricia Wettig's in just fine shape, especially for a woman who has to be in her late forties, but dudes? This dress has a wide-open vee for a neck that would only look good on a woman with breasts the size of casaba melons. And they'd have to touch in the middle. The breasts. Unfortunately, there is a cavern roughly the width of the Sahara Desert running down between Dr. Nancy's breasts. It's so wide, it could probably house an F-150 in there. Like, put some jewelry on there or something! It's so wrong it's distracting. I can't take my eyes off it. And not in the GOOD way.
Dr. Nancy and her cavern make their way over to Sloane's table. He gets up, and they shake hands. "Just so we're clear," says Dr. Nancy, "I'm here for professional reasons only." Oh, really? Well, I hate to tell you this, Dr. Nancy, but where I come from, dresses like that aren't worn for "professional reasons" unless you're a hooker. You might be here for professional reasons, but your breasts and their lack of cleavage most certainly aren't. Sloane practically licks her clavicle and invites her to sit down. She mentions something about her thesis and how she hasn't told him the theme yet. He pours her some wine and they toast.