Episode Report Card Erin: B+ | Grade It Now! YOU GRADE IT If it ain't broke, Spy Daddy will BLOW IT UP.
By Erin | Season 2 | Episode 4 | Aired on 10.19.2002
The Falkland Islands? Didn't Prince Andrew obliterate them years ago or something? Do they even still exist? What purpose do the Falkland Islands serve, anyway? I mean, other than being used for strategic sheep purposes and penguin breeding?
Jack asks King Kookoopants if the music box was retrieved, and Sloane informs him that it was, but that it was destroyed with age, just as Syd said it had been. "Worthless," says Sloane. "But we found something else." Jack ponders this. "Something else?" he asks. "Do you mean, like, drugs?" "No," says Sloane. "Money?" "No." "Women?" "No, Jack! Think bigger!" "Pink pachyderms?" "No, goddammit! Not...wait. Maybe. Like in Dumbo?" "Yeah. Like in Dumbo, you crackhead." "Well, we didn't find pink pachyderms there, but now that you mention it, I see a few dancing around your head." "Jesus, you're a looney-tunes."
Three's Company Clubhouse. The Ovary Twins are sharing a giggle about aged delivery men over a couple of bowls of Raisin Crunchies. No, it's not a real cereal. But the box is prominently displayed, so I just thought I'd mention it. Will enters and tells Foolio that a woman from the health department is on the phone. Foolio's all, ooooh, better get that! I'm being graded today! Yeah. Right. Like she really HAS a restaurant. Will, making every female in the audience swoon with desire, starts getting the trash ready for TAKING OUT. Yes, it's true. There are men alive who actually know how to do that. I've never LIVED with any of them, mind you, but it's nice to know they actually exist.
Yes, Viggo, that remark was directed at you. You're pretty to look at, it's true, but your household skills leave much to be desired. What? Well, yes, the garbage is technically Julio's job, but since you wounded him with your plastic sword, he's been less than capable of anything more than reaching for the remote control. Yes, I know you were protecting me, baby, and I sincerely do appreciate it. Now grab a Hefty bag and make yourself useful.
"How's it goin'?" Will asks Syd. "Okay," responds Syd. Will looks around covertly. "No, I mean, ya know, how's it goin'? Like, how's yer mom?" Syd hems and haws and doesn't really answer, instead asking Will how he's doing. He just tells her that he has four weeks left of community service and then he's done. Then he gets all super-spy on her again and asks if his going under hypno last week helped her out in any way. And before we can think that he's a totally self-centered doofus with pretty eyes, he tells Syd that the only reason he's asking is because "until about five minutes ago, [he] was doin' pretty well as a reporter, and now [he's] just a dishwasher living in denial." "The information you provided was huge," says Syd. "Huge?" says Will, his eyes widening in surprise. "Really? Oh, well, I wouldn't say 'huge.' I mean, it's average, I think. But that's really nice of you to say. 'Huge,' huh? Wow. Now, when you say 'huge,' you mean, like, length, right? Not girth? I mean, not that I care or anything..." Syd's all, because of you and your pretty eyes, the CIA scored BIG-TIME, baby! I shoulda told you before. Will's all, hey, don't worry about it. Huge? Really? Syd's beeper goes off. "Good guys or bad guys?" Will asks. "Neither," says Syd. "My father." Oooh. That's kind of a slam, idn't it?