Episode Report Card Keckler: D+ | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT I Left My Communicator In San Francisco
By Keckler | Season 2 | Episode 8 | Aired on 11.12.2002
Hey, Ferretarantella is on Twilight Zone! I wonder how she fit it into her busy schedule of sitting around waiting for the phone to ring.
Bridge. Trip worries about Reed and Quantum bonding and having fun without him, and thinks they should hail them to interrupt whatever they're doing. Smart-as-a-licorice-whip Hoshi tells him that if they're in a public place, the fact that their pants just started talking might cause comment among the naive natives. T'Pol -- always one for hailing Quantum's pants, or so they would have us believe -- thinks they should risk it. They hail, but get no response. Trip has Hoshi locate the communicator's whereabouts on her MapQuest. Apparently, it's a long ways away from Tavern on the Breen, and since the sh'pod hasn't moved, Trip doesn't think they could have traveled that far on foot so quickly. T'Pol wants bio-sign isolation, but Hoshi counters that the high population count of the city is a restrictive factor. Trip thinks they'd have more luck if they brought the ship in closer. "Any closer and we'd be detected," T'Pol reminds him. "Do your best," she says gently to Hoshi.
Stockade. Quantum watches a guard and wonders what planetary mall sold him such out-of-date clothes, while Reed picks at the corns on his feet and moans. Someone on this show has a foot fetish. "Still botherin' you?" Quantum asks. Reed wonders aloud if there's any hope of getting a pedicure and lavender hot wax treatment on his tootsies while they're there. Quantum gives him A Look. "If I asked politely," Reed amends. Reed lists how many pieces of Precious Post-Warp Equipment they've lost in trying to retrieve one measly communicator that never did anyone without a brain any harm. Quantum hopes the sh'pod stays hidden in Farmer Brown's barn. "If they really think we are spying for this Alliance, perhaps we should consider telling them the truth," Reed suggests. Quantum really doesn't think that "visitors from another world" holds much in the way of Perrier. It would if you took off your Furrow Condom; they just might hail you as their Messiah with your Mighty Brow Grooves. Just before another Buttheaded Nazi hauls them off for questioning, Quantum tells Reed, "The less we say the better."
Gen. Butthead Nazi lets them know that "someone calling herself T'Pol" was asking if her Captain could hear her now over his Verizon devil machine. Quantum admits to being "the captain," but beyond that, he and Reed play the children's game of Duck, Duck, Zip It! in response to Gen. Butthead Nazi's inquisitions into their Alliance connection. More smacking around of Quantum and Reed as they continue to refuse to tell the Butthead Nazis anything about themselves or their highly advanced calculators. "We're aware of your ancestral claim against our city -- must make tempting target," Gen. Butthead Nazi says, as Mathra discovers that our kitchen drain is clogged by a anvil wearing a name tag reading, "Hello, My Name Is The Israeli-Palestinian Conflict." Bitch-slapping of Quantum and Reed continues in earnest. As Gen. Butthead Nazi shoves Quantum back into his chair, he notices something. Quantum's brow is more than meets the eye. Captain Quantum, a furrow in disguise! The General peels off Quantum's latex and looks around at his second-in-command, who breathes forcefully out of each nostril a few times before peeling Reed's falsie off. It's no surprise that Quantum looks exactly the same as he did pre-acid peel. "They've been surgically altered!" Gen. Butthead Nazi announces. "That's not surgery -- that's Mrs. Doubtfire!" Mathra corrects him. Second-In-Command grabs Reed's face and examines his lip liner. "General, his blood...it's red!" he announces. The General orders they be taken to "Temec" for a full examination. You know what that means -- turn your head and cough time. Although it could be "pinch your nipple and burp" with these aliens. Reed and Quantum are led away. Wait, cut the Butthead Nazis open, I want to see what color their blood is -- black? Yellow with purple stripes? Come on!
Bridge. Hoshi has located the missing crew members on MapQuest. "Guard towers, gun emplacements -- it's not a hotel," May-wacky determines, looking closely. Trip thinks they could take Sh'pod Two down and bust Reed and Quantum out before anyone knew whose turn it was to grab a nipple. Trip just can't stand being left behind. T'Pol doesn't like this plan, saying, "If you were captured, you'd be giving the inhabitants more technology. It would undoubtedly affect the evolution of their society." "Whut if they dinnit see us commin'?" Trip suggests, "We still got that Suli-bon cell ship. The one we used to rescue Klaang from the Helix. I've been workin' on it in m'free time -- I'm pretty close to figgerin' out how it works. If I kin brang the cloak online, we can get past their de-fenses, grab our pee-pol and no one will see a thang." T'Pol tells him to work quickly, and Trip gives May-warm-up some more lines by saying he could use a hand. They scamper off together. T'Pol tells Hoshi they should monitor the communications in Cellblock Furrow, because it may tell them what's going down with the prisoners of their hearts.