Episode Report Card M. Giant: B | 1 USERS: C- YOU GRADE IT Dead Boss Walking
By M. Giant | Season 3 | Episode 18 | Aired on 04.17.2004
It's 6:17:12 at Inn Fection, and the quarantine area is getting more and more crowded. It's standing room only in there, literally, which is going to make things pretty uncomfortable when people start keeling over. How about some beds for the sick people? Bitchelle watches each victim getting herded inside. The next one is Gay Matt, blood pouring from his nose down his face and onto his shirt. Bitchelle looks crushed at the sight of him. Gay Matt quietly begs Bitchelle to let him call his wife. I'm still calling him Gay Matt. Bitchelle apologetically refuses, explaining that they're still under orders to keep this quiet to avoid a panic. Gay Matt promises not to tell his wife anything; he just wants to hear her voice. Bitchelle looks like she's about to break down, or maybe she's thinking about how she gets to keep in touch with her hubby, but she shuts Gay Matt down anyway. He gets led into quarantine while she tries not to crack. And now it's time for her little announcement. She turns to address the victims, and the camera shoots her through the plastic sheeting so her features are blurred. She explains that once symptoms of the V-I-R-U-S appear, there's no chance of recovery, that death will be extremely painful, and that the estimated time of death is some time before the season finale. She tells them about the suicide capsules that are on the way: "Some pills that will basically make you feel like you're going to sleep." Yes, that's just the thing for an agent who only has seconds to avoid capture and torture: going to sleep. Those must come in handy. Bitchelle explains that it's up to each of them to decide when and if they want to take the pills. We see the quietly sobbing victims from her point of view, again through the plastic sheeting. Yes, we get it. Through a glass darkly and all that shit. Bitchelle wraps up her little speech with a businesslike "Thank you." Surprisingly, nobody says, "Thank you." Bitchelle walks off, almost completely wrecked, but she doesn't have more than a second or two to be wrecked before a hazmatician comes up to her and tells her that one of the guests appears to be missing. Apparently, a woman has lost track of the guy she was with.
Bitchelle finds said woman in the lobby. She's a sad-looking redhead named Kathy who tells Bitchelle she met some guy at a club on Hill earlier tonight. All she knows about him is his name -- Bill -- and some stuff about his penis, but she doesn't share that last part. When the fire alarm woke her up, Bill from Hill was gone, even though he was still there when she fell asleep exactly at 4:02. It's always a good idea to look at the clock immediately before you go to sleep, you know, in case you wake up to a federal agent who wants to know what time it was. This guy's not anywhere in the hotel, and the room was booked in Kathy's name, so they have no idea how to locate this Typhoid Leisure Suit Larry who's running around and rendering their quarantine moot. Bitchelle orders a hazmat-less agent named Miller to dust the hotel room for fingerprints. He points out that it's a hotel room, and there will be dozens of prints there. Nice try, dude, but I still don't think Bitchelle is going to let you dust Kathy's boobs. Bitchelle tells Kathy to come with her up to the room: "You need to show me every surface that Bill may have touched." Jeez, Bitchelle, aren't we supposed to be in a hurry? Just strip Kathy naked in the lobby, would you? Lives are at stake here.