Episode Report Card M. Giant: B+ | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT Kiefer to the Rescue! Um, Kiefer?
By M. Giant | Season 4 | Episode 3 | Aired on 01.09.2005
9:27:57. Potato Face, DaD, and DiCK stress over their respective situations. I just realized that I could probably use that sentence for every back-from-commercial split-screen for the rest of the season, just changing the names and the times. Hang on, programming a macro…okay, I'm back. Curtis comes into DiCK's interrogation room with a couple of redshirts and somebody I assume is Johnson. Curtis orders DiCK strapped to his chair. DiCK accepts this with the equanimity we've come to expect from him, i.e. a very large negative amount. Driscoll takes up a position in the observation room. She should really have a microwave and a stash of popcorn in there for herself. Once DiCK is strapped in, Curtis repeats his question. DiCK repeats his answer. Curtis nods at Johnson, who pulls a large syringe out of his silver case. Curtis explains that the drug works on a neurotransmitter level: "It makes every nerve ending in your body feel like it's on fire." DiCK thinks Curtis is bluffing. Curtis explains that by the time DiCK is released, there won't be a mark on him and it'll be his word against Curtis's. DiCK says something about what his dad's job is. Some government gig, apparently. "I thought you hated him," Curtis says. "Now he's Dear Old Dad." He nods at Johnson, and DiCK demonstrates that he's been pacing himself, because this is his most intense freak-out yet. Johnson approaches with the needle. Curtis winces, loses his stomach (not literally. Yet.), and orders Johnson to stop. In the observation room, Driscoll looks taken aback.
Curtis meets his irritated boss in the hallway and says he can't do it: "It's an inappropriate use of force." "I gave you an order," Driscoll says, as if it hasn't already been amply established today that her orders are optional. "Then give it to me in writing," Curtis says. Driscoll balks at that, but Curtis offers a compromise: sensory disorientation. Whatever that is. "Fine. Try it," Driscoll snaps, and storms off, wondering what the fudge she has to flipping do to get one gosh-darn person around here to do what the heck she says once in a while. I mean, gee whiz. I mentioned that my parents are reading now, right?
Speaking of parents, TerrorDad is arriving at a coffee shop at 9:30:20, just as TerrorMom calls him on his cell phone. They talk about the Debbie situation, and TerrorMom assures TerrorDad that she'll take care of it, just as TerrorTeen arrives to listen to her end of the conversation. She hasn't given anything away. "Do I still have to call Debbie and get her over here?" "No," TerrorMom chirps with a smile and a little head-shake and complete technical accuracy if not downright honesty. TerrorTeen smiles and wraps his mom in a long, grateful hug, when anybody in their right mind would be running away from her right now. We see her pained look over his shoulder. Understandable. He's a young man, she's a beautiful woman, and after a few takes she probably got pretty tired of that blunt stabbing sensation in her lower abdomen.
VVH is still on the road with Witless. He looks in the backseat and says, "I'm gonna pull over soon and we're gonna talk, okay?" Witless doesn't object. He has duct tape on his mouth, remember? VVH velveteens that "today is not about me or you. It's about something bigger. What I need to know with certainty is that what you saw on the internet will not interfere with what we have planned. You have to convince me of that." If you're going to try and torture the truth out of someone, is it really a good idea to tell him what you want to hear before you even get started? I don't know; I'm actually asking. In case it ever comes up. VVH pulls off the road and drives down an embankment to meet a couple of other, beefier, less clean-cut minions under a freeway bridge at 9:32:32.