Episode Report Card Gustave: B+ | 278 USERS: B- YOU GRADE IT Amnesia and other personality disorders
By Gustave | Season 1 | Episode 17 | Aired on 2002.03.26
Back at the Palmer Hotel, Kiefer, Nina, Faux-licity, and eight or so armed federal agents enter and get to work bugging TakeOnKief's hotel room. Uh, isn't that a bit nervy to be hanging out in a hit man's hotel room? Head Secret Service Guy greets Kiefer and apologizes to him for disarming him during the first Palmer Assassination Attempt of the day. "I had no idea what kind of pressure you were under at the time," says HSSG. Kiefer introduces HSSG to the whole CTU surveillance team and Faux-licity. Faux-licity uses this opportunity to apologize for all the trouble her sex life caused the Senator. HSSG forgives Faux-licity for allowing her vagina to compromise the security of a presidential candidate, since that very vagina is now helping to fight crime. Oh, and plus she's awfully courageous to risk her life and stuff. HSSG escorts them into TakeOnKief's hotel room. Kiefer authoritatively orders his men to "cover every square inch" of the room. He also turns to Nina and orders her to "prep" Faux-licity. Like, what's she gonna do? Help her do practice kisses into a pillow? Teach her how to put the condom on with her teeth? Get her drunk? He orders HSSG to alert him "the minute that TakeOnKief enters this hotel."
More psycho seventies piano music plays -- you know, that ominous "tinkle tinkle tinkle" that's in every suburban horror film -- as Bride and JLH's PRS pass a place that Bride insists looks familiar to her. JLH's PRS pulls into the driveway of this cute little outdoorsy restaurant where there is so much lush vegetation everywhere that they ought to call it the Venus Flytrap Café. Bride runs out of the car like a woman possessed. She walks through the slate-floored interior and into the shady back garden adorned with vine-covered latticework, and proclaims that she's definitely been there before. "I was with someone," she says. "Your husband?" prods the tertiary guest star. "Not your husband?" Bride touches her fingers to her lips and leaves the question unanswered. You see, boys and girls, the sauce that's good for the Kiefer is good for the Bride of Kiefer. That's right. During the separation, Bride wasn't sitting around the house eating Snackwells and popping Xanax. She was out taking advantage of those dollar margaritas at the local Mexican restaurant, shaking her groove thing, and writing poetry in exclusively lowercase letters with no punctuation like the lusty worldly woman she truly is! She was having some unicorn sex of her own! And now that she's got amnesia, the only way back to her forgotten past is through those hot lonely nights. Okay, maybe we don't know that already…but we know this already. JLH's PRS asks for a maitre d' or a manager. The waiter replies that "Mr. Martin" will be in shortly. Okay, since when do restaurant managers insist on being called "Mister" anything? "Maybe this Mr. Martin knows something about me," says Bride, caressing the glossy solid wood chairs. She decides to stay, and asks JLH's PRS for her number so she can send her "whatever I can afford" later on. "Know what?" says JLH's PRS in that scratchy Courtney voice. "Send me whatever you can afford…plus ten dollars." She leaves Bride a ten spot for cab fare to the nearest hospital, and exits. Buh-bye, Jennifer Love Hewitt's Punk-Rock Super.