Episode Report Card Erin: C+ | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Two's Company, Three's a Crowd
By Erin | Season 3 | Episode 5 | Aired on 10.25.2003
Main Osaka Dude's all, hey, you come into the back, we can convert your winnings into diamonds or simply make an electronic transfer, yes? Marshall's all, oh, domo arigato, Mr. Tomosaka. Once in the back, both Marshall and Syd declare that they weren't cheating. No, they weren't cheating at all! Tomosaka takes a sword off the wall. "You were counting cards," he says calmly. Marshall's all, "You gonna cut off your own finger with that? 'Cuz that looks mighty big to take off a pinky." Tomosaka leaps forward and grabs Marshall's hand. "I thought I would take your hand!"
Syd leaps forward to save Marshall, and Marshall wisely unloads his bolo tie dart into Tomosaka's throat. He falls. Syd dispenses with the other men in about two seconds. She orders Marshall to put the fallen men into the closet. Once he does, he's free to mess with the computer virus. He sits in front of the computer console and enters the password Sloane gave Syd: Ravenson 327. The virus code comes streaming onto Marshall's computer screen. He says, "It's gonna take me a second to download a copy before I can render the virus unusable." Oh, shit.
Syd, watching the security monitors, sees Sark and Bomani enter the gambling club. She's all, we're gonna have to hurry. Sark's here. Marshall scrambles. Bomani kills a guard. Marshall's closer. Sark and Bomani shoot another guard in cold blood. Marshall's even closer. "It's disabled," whispers Marshall. Syd pulls him down as Sark enters, gun pointing. God, he's cute. He runs around to the desk where Syd and Marshall were and sits. Bomani just looks around and watches him. "It'll take me a second to transfer a copy to our server," Sark says, as Syd and Marshall watch his knees from beneath the desk. Sark works his magic with the keyboard as Marshall, and Syd, try to keep the sneezing to a minimum. "Done," says Sark, getting up. Bomani opens the door and they both exit. Syd lets go of Marshall's face. He sneezes. Heh.
Hospital Room Of Hallucinations. Oh. We're having a Felicity moment here. Syd and Sean and Killjoy and Vaughn are all hanging out, as if Syd hadn't stabbed Vaughn, and they're all just enjoying each other's company. Sean's yammering on about some girl he dated who loved guitar players. Oh, it's very cute and sweet and so not important right now. Except to state, once again, that Agent Sean heals all wounds. He's so healing that Vaughn actually grabs his wife's beer and drinks from it. She's all, is that a good idea? He's all, um, if I have to hear that story for the fifth damn time, YEAH. In fact, do you have any lighter fluid? Because this scene could use a little spontaneous combustion. Captain Non-Commando is all, I'm in better shape than this bitch was when he was injured. Agent Sean's all, bitch? I was hit in the jugular, okay? How 'bout you cut me some slack? "And, by the way, don't come crying to me if beer comes spraying outta that hole in your chest," Sean quips. Hee.
Vaughn chastises Sean with a whole "don't you have to get up early" thing. Sean does, indeed, have to get up early, so he goes to leave. Syd asks if she can grab a ride. Sean says, sure! As long as you're sleeping naked next to me after the ride's over! Syd says goodnight to the Elephants and they say goodnight to her, holding hands as if their lives depended on it. Syd exits. Walking down the hall with Sean, she suddenly realizes she left her coat behind. Oh. Right. Because I always leave my coat behind. Jesus. So, like, anyway, Syd goes back and sees Killjoy caressing and caring for Vaughn in a way that Syd's never EVER going to be able to. I mean, unless Killjoy's out of the way and, well, I don't think that's going to happen any time soon, right? And then Syd walks away. WITHOUT HER COAT. Like, dude? Knock, open the door, grab your jacket, and WALK AWAY. Christ almighty. How hard is that? Seriously. My ex-boyfriend could be sticking it to his new eighteen-year-old supermodel girlfriend and I'd STILL walk in and get my damn coat. And I'm not even an ass-kicking spy!