Redefinition

S02E11

By Strega

Huge props to Mr. and Mrs. Platypus for being such lovely hosts over New Year's. I still owe you guys dinner, though.

Previously on Angel, Cary shimmied, Drusilla and Darla followed Shakespeare's instruction to "kill all the lawyers," and Angel decided it was time for some down-sizing. Sadly, there's still room for his hair.

We open with a blipvert. As omens go, I'm not sure that's a good one. The MoG wander out of the Hyperion. Cordy and Wesley are carrying generic boxes which are, presumably, full of office supplies. Or lighting fixtures from the hotel. They didn't even have desks, so what was there to clear out? The change of clothes that Cordy keeps behind the front desk, and Wesley's copy of the Encyclopedia Demonica. Does that require a whole box? Oh, and Cordy seems to have taken the iBook as part of her severance package. Good thinking. Cordy asks what just happened, because it's her turn to speak for new viewers. Old viewers are busy wondering why Cordelia stopped packing long enough to put that brand new streak in her hair. It's like a big comma over her forehead. Maybe she put the highlight in while she was in shock. Wesley and Gunn run through various idiomatic terms for getting fired, which is kind of cute, and that jogs Cordy's memory. Wesley puts on a happy face by saying, "Angel's not been himself lately. Perhaps he'll change his mind." So last week (or an hour ago, tops, in the show's terms), Wesley was convinced that Angel was on The Path of Ultimate Evil. But now that Angel's actually fired them all, Wesley thinks that maybe Angel is just feeling cranky. All righty. Cordy simply says, "Darla. It's all about Darla." She adds that Angel is consistent: "It's always some little blonde driving him over the edge." She wonders what they should do now. Gunn declares his intention to grab a burrito. Off their looks, he explains, "This was just a side gig for me, all right?" Gunn says that if Angel wants to "go all commando, it's no skin off my nose." Cordy replies, "Well my nose skin is angry. And hurt! And --" "Disappointed?" Wesley asks. Cordy makes a sad puppy face in response. Wesley guesses that Angel needs to be alone. The MoG all head off in different directions. This appears to confirm the fact that Wesley does have an apartment somewhere, and wasn't living at the hotel. How dumb is that? A whole hotel, and he's maintaining a separate apartment? At least Cordy has the excuse that Phantom Dennis is a much cooler roommate than Angel would be.

Angel is carting boxes around in the basement. He opens one and carries it toward the furnace, allowing us to see that the box is full of his crappy sketches of Darla.

Angel is carting boxes around in the basement. He opens one and carries it toward the furnace, allowing us to see that the box is full of his crappy sketches of Darla. Or at least, some of his crappy sketches are on top. He can't possibly have filled three big boxes with drawings of her, and then carted them down to the basement for the express purpose of burning them. Right? Does he know about recycling? Ew, and one of the sketches features Darla all nekkid. With strategically placed arms, of course. Anyway, the sketches burn, and Angel closes the furnace grating. So he's not going to burn whatever else is in that box? He carted three boxes down to the basement so that he could set fire to a handful of paper? I don't get it. This is the kind of thing I puzzle over during the credits.

After the ads, there's an odd shot of the basement's ceiling. Then Angel's big head pops up into the frame. Then it's gone. Then it's back. He's doing chin-ups. In the basement. He's got an entire hotel to exercise in, and he picks the dank basement. I know he's Mr. Broody, but that's excessive. If you taped this episode, I highly recommend watching while fast forwarding here, because it's really funny to watch his head bounce up and down. Reminds me of Whack-a-Mole games. Oh, he's also wearing a wifebeater. I chant to myself, "At least he's wearing a shirt," and that makes it easier. I know what you're thinking right now. You're thinking, "Hey, Strega, there's no need to tell us about the monologues, because they were super irritating and boring and horrid. Let's pretend it didn't happen, okay?" I know that seems like the right thing to do, but I'm sorry, I just can't do that. You know how mom always made you eat your veggies, even though they tasted bad, because they were good for you? Well it's sorta the same thing here. Even though the voice-overs seem pretentious and mind-numbing, when you look at the purpose they serve thematically, you realize that...Um. Okay, the real reason is that if I have to suffer, so do you. But we can make a game out of it! Pretend it's a workout regimen for existentialists. Here's how it goes: Angel does chin-ups. "I'm not ready yet." Two, three, four -- punching bag. "Too many years spent sleeping in soft beds." He slept for years at a time? And I thought I knew how to slack. See, there's a lot to learn here. Onward: sit-ups. "Living in a world where I don't belong." Pushups, kickboxing. "I can't fight them. Not yet. But soon." Panting. Try it at home and feel those brain cells melt away. And then you, too, can write for the WB!

Cut to stately Manners Manor. Bloody bodies are piled on the carpeting. Lindsey looks like he's enjoying the sleep of the just-not-worth-killing at the bottom of a bunch of corpses. How cozy. His eyes are closed. Is he dead? Come on, didn't you see the ads? His eyes pop open, and he struggles out from under his former co-workers. A blipvertette takes us to his post-massacre counseling. A cop talks about the "traumatic experience" and encourages Lindsey to see a doctor. Lindsey mutters, "I'm the only one left," and he looks rather pleased by that idea. Off camera, another cop calls, "Hey, we've got a live one here!" Lindsey turns and, with a wonderful tone of disappointment, asks, "We do?" Snerk. He watches as some cops help Lilah wobble to her feet. I share Lindsey's feelings on that development.

"Actually, I'm not a--" Virginia commiserates with Wesley. At her dad's house? Her new house? Wesley's apartment? Where the heck are they? Anyway, she says that Angel can't fire Wesley, since Wesley is "on a mission to protect the innocent." Her eyes are much too far apart. And she's wearing a teal pirate shirt. With ruffles. Honest. She asks if Wesley can "file a grievance with the union." Wesley says, "I'm not in a union. I'm a...I don't even know what the name of my job is! Was." Virginia fluffs up Wesley's ego, and then we get a quick summary of her backstory from "Guise Will Be Guise". I guess this is Wesley's place, since he's putting away books while he talks. Virginia demonstrates that she lives in an alternate universe by suggesting that Angel fired Wesley out of jealousy: "You had to impersonate him to rescue me, and you were too good an Angel." Wesley points out that Gunn and Cordy were fired as well. He speculates that Angel plans to hunt down Drusilla and Darla, "and he doesn't want anyone in his way." Virginia says that Wesley can get another job, and asks what else he can do. What else? Did we establish a first thing that Wesley can do? Oh yeah: he's good at darts. Wesley thinks, and finally answers, "Not much." No kidding.

The Angel exercise program, part two. Sword waving. "When Wolfram & Hart take a life, they do it at a distance. I don't have that luxury." Sword rammed through unidentifiable object. Punching bag kicked hard enough to break the chain it's hanging from. "It's time." Cut to a room somewhere. Angel walks out the door. I guess that's his room. Have the walls always been purple? Apparently he went upstairs to change, because all he does is head right back down to the basement. All those stairs are a workout in themselves. "I'm not on their level." He opens the sewer grating. "But I can get there." Angel thinks he's really clever with that one, doesn't he? Hey, Angel, while you're down there, be careful not to trip on all the eyeballs that audience members lost when they rolled them just a tad too vigorously. Also, when did you install a stairway into the sewer system? Didn't that start out as a ladder? He's too busy chattering away to answer: "And when I do, I'll be right up close." When the pauses between lines are this long, it's really hard to follow what he's talking about, isn't it? "I'll bring the fight to them." Now cool down by making your coat billow dramatically. It's anaerobic.

At Wolfram & Hart, Lindsey is berating a secretary who insists that there aren't any messages for him. Lilah pops up with her arm in a cast and asks if he's getting "the big freeze-out." He's not in the mood to chat. She asks, "What's wrong, Lindsey? You bitter because your girlfriend didn't slit my throat?" Lindsey corrects her: "More like bummed." Lilah whines about how they haven't gotten any sympathetic phone calls or flowers. Lindsey says that, as the only survivors, it's only natural that they would be viewed with suspicion. Lilah worries that this will not help her career, particularly the part where being viewed with suspicion may lead to her death "in some freak accident." Lindsey snarls, "We did nothing wrong," and stomps off. Lilah chases after him and says, "I'm sorry, have we met? Because I work for Wolfram & Hart, and responsibility has nothing to do with it. If they're looking for a scapegoat, we might as well grow horns and start eating garbage." That's a fun line. Not much application in day-to-day life, but I'll file it away, just in case. Lindsey starts to bark about how they aren't scapegoats, and Lilah quiets him down as another employee passes them in the hall. Lindsey shoots the nameless employee quite a dirty look. He's growing on me here, I admit. Even if he is a teeny tiny lawyer with only one hand. Lindsey says he was just following orders when he brought Drusilla in, which settles that question. Lilah tells him to "indulge [his] denial," but that someone's going to pay, and she and Lindsey are the only ones left to divide up the check when the bill comes, with the gratuity included, and no one has any bills smaller than a fifty, and the waiter uses an obscure code so that it's impossible to tell what that $25 item might be, and everyone swears they ordered the special. I'll admit that she doesn't extend the metaphor quite that far. But maybe she should have. Okay, probably not.

They enter Lindsey's darkened office, and suddenly stop short. Darla sits on the edge of his desk while Dru reclines in a chair. Darla coos, "Lindsey, I've missed you." Tell me again about that wonderful Wolfram & Hart security, which Darla set off last time she entered the building. I guess now that they know for sure that she's dangerous, they turned off all the alarms. Darla tells Lindsey to close the door, and when he hesitates, she points out that they already passed on a chance to kill him. Lindsey closes the door. Lilah twitches nervously. Dru says, "'E's got cow oyes, big and black...Moooooo." Lindsey wants to know why they let him live. Darla has a Chinese dragon crawling over her left breast. I mean, that's the design on her shirt. Guess it's the closest thing to a kimono she could find. She walks up to Lindsey and breathes, "I'm in love with you." Lilah looks pissy. Lindsey looks smug. Then Darla and Dru burst into laughter. So much for the smugness. Lilah joins the giggle-fest until Darla snaps, "Shut up, Lilah!" Lindsey complains that Darla's put them in a difficult position, but Darla thinks otherwise: "Whoops! Boss gets eaten. Someone's gotta step in. Someone promising, pretty, with questionable ethics and $1,200 suits that look good on the six o'clock news." Lilah sniffs, "You think they'll promote him?" Darla replies, "Or you." If I'm following the what-passes-for-logic here, Darla figured that if they just left one lawyer alive, that lawyer would definitely be the very scapiest of goats. With two survivors, one gets sacrificed, the other gets promoted. I'll reluctantly accept that this might make sense in the magical fantasy world of the show. But why does Darla care about having someone she knows at Wolfram & Hart? Wait, she's got an answer for that one, too: she wants power. Hm. I don't know, but let's hear her out: "During my stint as Wolfram & Hart's puppet, something occurred to me: I loathe being used. As I recall, I sent you a fifteen-body memo to that effect." Darla somehow manages to jam four syllables into the word "loathe." Impressive. "Lo-aaah-thhh--eh." She says that she wants Wolfram & Hart to help her get the things she wants, which are money, power, and connections. Nothing about a view, at least. But also no clear indication as what she wants to buy that she can't steal, or what she needs power over, or connections to. I'm having trouble with this. Anyway, Darla basically says they'll wait to see who survives the battle for corner office, and in the meantime she and Dru will focus on "the world below." Like me, Lindsey can't quite accept this premise, which is why he speculates that Darla wants these things so she can go after Angel. The name barely leaves his mouth before Darla cuts him off: "Don't say that! Not everything is about Angel, Lindsey." He presses the issue, but Darla insists, "I spent 250 years without Angel. You think just because I went through a little human phase, I'd go all gooey?" Lindsey says, "No, I thought you'd kill him." Darla winds things up with that tried-and-true clunker, "All in good time."

Meanwhile, out on the foggy night streets of...wait, this is Los Angeles, right? Okay. I'll just assume that we're outside a dry ice warehouse. Ack! Jhiera flashback! Nooooo! Maybe it's steam. From...uh, something. Anyway we pan and pan and pan and pan some more, past the generic storm drain / sewer / tunnel set. Then we pan up, for a change of pace, and there's Angel, perching o'er the sewer door. Quoth the vampire, "Nevermore!" Well, no, he just sits there, actually. Down the tunnel come some vampires, chattering about the people they just killed. As they reach the opening, Angel swoops down and starts fighting. Kick, punch, twirl, pirouette, dust, etc. One vampire is kicked through the air and against the wall. Angel ejects his trusty spring-loaded arm stake and another vamp bites the dust. Then he's grabbed by his coattails and spun into a wall. More fighting. The last vamp rushes for the tunnel, but Angel grabs him and reaches under the back of his coat collar and pulls out a long sword. That doesn't seem like a really good idea. He's risking damage to his coat and, dare I say it, his hairdo. Anyway, it works out all right, and Angel makes with a mighty slow-motion thwack toward the vampire's neck, and we cut away before the censors have to intervene. Angel heads back into the tunnel, dropping his bloody sword, and we journey once again into his echoey head. "I'm ready." Um, Angel, I was just criticizing how you hid the sword, I didn't mean you should just leave it to rust in a sewer. He starts to pull off his jacket. "I've got the moves." Some things just aren't worth making fun of. He throws the coat down in the tunnel. "Now I need to know what theirs are." "Theirs" is one of those words that just never looks right.

Caritas. Cary is singing "Lady Marmalade." Work it, baby. Wesley steps into the frame, orders a Bloody Mary, and, when the bartender asks, clarifies that he doesn't actually want any real blood in it. Wesley looks up at Cary, and wonders what it would be like to have soul. Cary finishes to wild applause. Wesley mutters, "Steady on, Wesley. Perhaps something by Cat Stevens..." Wait, don't tell me: "Father and Son," right? Sigh. As he gets his drink, Wesley bumps into Cordelia. Exchange of surprised greetings. Cordy accuses Wesley of planning to sing. Wesley suspects the same of Cordelia. He asks what she was going to sing. Cordy says, "Shania Twain, or Madonna. I haven't decided." Wesley says that they're both "at loose ends," and confesses to feeling embarrassed. "How do you think I feel?" says Gunn from behind them. More surprise. Cordy reminds Gunn that he claimed working for Angel was just a "side gig." Gunn replies, "I got a rep to maintain, all right? I can't have you all seeing through my brusque and macho exterior." Hee. Cordelia replies, "Oh, heavens forfend!" Heh. Wesley asks what Gunn was going to sing. Gunn leans over, pats Wesley on the shoulder, and smirks, "You wouldn't know it." Still loving Gunn over here. Cordy notes "the patheticness that is us," and says that it's Angel's fault. I'll blame Angel for a lot, but I don't think he is responsible for how pathetic they are. She continues, "Hope he's happy now, all alone in his demon world with no one to talk to." No one but the audience, that is. And we're definitely not happy about it.

Cut to Merl, upside down, squealing, "I'll talk!" before being dunked into a pool of water. He's down in the tunnels, dangling from a rope held by Angel. Merl gets as far as saying, "I don't know where --" before he's dunked again. Eventually he says, "I heard about your girls, Godzilla, Darcilla, whatever, uh, they've been hitting all the underground hot spots looking for demons to join some crew they're running." He swears that's all he knows, and is dunked again for his trouble. He admits there might be a little more, and identifies one last "demon haunt" that the girls haven't visited yet. Angel secures the rope and leaves. Behind him, Merl whines, "You're actually gonna leave me hangin' here, man? Hey! I'm spinning here, man!" Angel disappears around a corner, as Merl grumbles, "Freakin' vampires."

Cut to...another fight. Oh, a demon fight club. Now I'm having flashbacks to "The Ring." Swell. The crowd cheers as two demons pummel each other. Eventually one wins, and as the other demons applaud, Dru and Darla wander in. Darla is wearing a blouse several sizes too small for her Wonderbra, so she has to leave most of it unbuttoned. Dru looks much more ladylike in her ribbed turtleneck. Even though several inches of her neck poke out past the collar. She is like a crazy giraffe-woman. Darla says, "The violence without victims. See, that's where you lose me." The girls introduce themselves, and Darla suggests that perhaps their reputation has preceded them. We pan past a shadowy figure in a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up. Golly, I wonder who that could be. The fight's winner growls, "I never heard of you before." Behind him, Dru reaches up and rips his ears off. "Now you never will," Darla chirps. While Dru looks over her souven-ears (ha!), Darla gets down to business. "We've come with a little proposition..." There's that hooded figure again. Under the hood is a vamped Angel. Imagine that.

Darla says, "Me and my girl, we're not just the new thing in town. We're the only thing in town." Dru is "your girl," now? 'Kay. She continues, "We're in the market for some, well, one doesn't really want to use the term 'muscular slaves'...actually, one does." She's looking for "those creatures who not only excel at devastation, but revel in it. Our crusade is one of malevolent joy." Did she steal some of good ol' Adam's motivational speeches or something? Angel starts skulking away, and Dru suddenly perks up and mutters, "Eyes like needles." Darla is testy at the interruption, but Dru says, "He sees you. Sees what you were. You'll never be alone again." Darla isn't pleased by this news, but Dru continues, "He's watching you, my sweet, right now." Darla whirls around and scans the crowd. She starts shoving her way through the demons while Dru says, "He wants to punish us. He thinks we've been naughty. He remembers when you were warm..." Darla snaps at Dru to shut up. Drusilla calmly turns her back and waits. Darla returns to her script, and tells the demons that "auditions" are that night. She reaches into her cleavage and pulls out a business card with the meeting place's address. Oh, maybe that's why she couldn't button her shirt; she's probably got a Filofax tucked away in there too. Seriously, they printed up business cards? Darla says that "winners will have the opportunity to foment mass destruction; losers will be gutted and left for dead." "Foment?" What's with the vocabulary words? She grabs Dru by the arm and they leave by way of an ear-ripping blipvert.

Angel, still in his sweatshirt, which I'll bet he totally stole from Gunn, lurks in an alley as he de-vamps. "I'm not ready." You're not? You were a few scenes ago. Shot of Darla from five minutes ago, fading into negative. "I can still feel her. Her pain, her need, her hope." He wanders down the alley. "I'm too close. Too close to fight her." I wonder if it's hard to read lines that flatly.

Lindsey and his plastic hand are in his office, preparing to leave for the night. Lilah appears at the door. He asks if something happened. Lilah sadly says, "I can't do it any more." While Lindsey closes the door, Lilah talks about how she's basically waiting for the other shoe to drop: "One of us is going to die." Lindsey replies that everyone dies, and Lilah points out that "not everyone ends up in a dog food processing plant in San Pedro." Oh my goodness, Soylent Alpo is people! Lindsey says that they each have a fifty-fifty chance at surviving. There's something wrong with the probability there, because that makes it sound like they both could survive, which isn't what he means, but math was never my strong point so I give up. We know what he means. Anyway, Lilah doesn't like those odds, and says that there's another option: "We could leave. You and me, tonight." Lindsey thinks that they'd both be hunted down if they ran, but Lilah thinks that they could take some files as insurance. She scoots in closer to him and says, "I've heard the rumors. We both know that it worked for you once before. You knew just what to take." She says she'll take the risk, if Lindsey tells her which files to steal. Lindsey strokes her hair away from her face, and as they lean in for a kiss his hand slides into her shirt, out of which he pulls a microphone. Speaking directly into the mike, Lindsey says, "But, Lilah, I would never steal files from my employer. I'm shocked at the suggestion!" Lilah makes a "yeah, very funny" face at him. Lindsey gathers up his stuff and says, "Forget about the frame job, sweetheart." Is he channeling Humphrey Bogart all of the sudden? He cheerfully adds, "They're gonna kill who they're gonna kill. Just take it like a man." He blows a kiss at her and leaves.

Back at Caritas, the MoG have been drinking. I think they're all supposed to be drunk. It's really hard to tell. I'm sure that Cordelia is meant to be drunk, but she's doing that super-mannered method of acting drunk, and I am unconvinced. Plus, she looks awfully well groomed for someone who's been drinking for a few hours. I don't care how self-absorbed Cordelia is; I refuse to believe she's still touching up her lip-gloss and eyeliner after several rounds. The point of this scene is to get everyone fighting with each other, though. So, Cordy accuses Wesley of being too judgmental, and insists that "this whole Darla thing would have just blown over" if he'd ignored it. Wesley says that "obsessions don't just blow over." Gunn says, "If I had to listen to you two, day in, day out, snipe-snipe-snipe, bitch-bitch-bitch...I figure y'all got off easy, 'cause I woulda killed you." Wesley says that Gunn didn't support Angel's "leadership role," and asks how Angel could do his job when his employees wouldn't take direction. Gunn asks, "Was one of his directives, 'Hire pansy-ass British guy?'" Wesley snarks, "My ass is not pansy!" Cordy and I snicker. Gunn, who isn't even pretending to attempt trying to behave as if he is even remotely intoxicated, suggests that if Cordelia had more visions, Angel would have been distracted from Darla. Because Cordy can just decide whether or not to have visions. Cordy's response is simpler: "Earth to retards! You have an obsession, you pretty much squeeze it into your schedule no matter what!" Wesley asks if she's admitting that Angel is obsessed. Cordy wavers, Wesley calls her a hypocrite, and Cordy calls Wesley an "ass-pansy!" I snicker again. At which point they all start yelling at each other at the same time, and I no longer feel obligated to make sense of what they're saying. I'm just glad it stops before we get to the part where Wesley shouts, "Sit on it!"

Cut to all three of them up on the stage, wailing "We are the champions!" Cordy is near tears. Gunn embraces the others. At this point, I believe that Gunn's drunk. But honestly, that whole arguing scene was just for this punchline. Was it necessary? No. It still would have been funny if they'd just bemoaned their job situation; it still would have been funny if they'd had a sincere conversation about Angel. Drunken singing equals comedy gold, no matter what the context is. So could we please ease up on this show's toxic level of bickering? We've seen Cordy bicker with Gunn, we've seen Cordy bicker with Wesley, we've seen Wesley bicker with Gunn. We've even seen Lindsey and Lilah and Kate bicker with the main cast. We've seen it all. We're bored now. The grounds for humor here are not just bare, they're strip-mined, there's just a big gaping hole where once life bloomed. Sure, you could root out the last few pathetic weeds of humor that have managed to hold on to life in this inhospitable terrain, but maybe you should leave a little something for future generations.

Cut again, and now Caritas is nearly deserted. Cordelia is slumped over at their table, muttering, "Vampires...sloth demons...you know what's really, really evil? Tequila." Wesley pushes some of the empty glasses out of the way and sighs, "I need to be dead now." Unless you believe the captioning, which claims that he says, "Angel could be dead now." Cary wanders up and observes that "the maudlin segment of tonight's binge is in full swing." He pulls off his jacket, revealing red suspenders, and says that he was impressed by their "musical recitation of pain earlier. When I say pain, I mean mine. Although, props for singing your little hearts out." Cordy, who's doing a lot better at evoking the "miserably drunk to the point of illness" stage, tells Cary that he's supposed to give them guidance now. Wesley chimes in, "We came, we sang, we [icky gulping noise] fought the urge to regurgitate." Cordy adds, "So spill already," and then tells Wesley, "Not you." She asks Cary, "Where do we go from here," only she's yawning while she asks, or maybe fighting off a sneeze, it's hard to tell, but she makes some funny faces so it's all good. Cary starts folding up his jacket as he says, "I'd love to tell you, sweetie, but when the big guys talk, I shut my yap. And they're about to get real chatty..." He leans over and holds his jacket behind Cordy's head just as she rocks back with a vision. Wow, that's so nice of him. Blipvert of generic green demon, struggling woman. Cordy relays the vision, and they all prepare to ride to the rescue.

Angel's strapping on his stakes, sheathing his daggers, and packing up his ol' slay-bag. Those are not idiomatic expressions. He stomps through the gloomy lobby, and we hear a phone ring. He heads for the front desk, reaches over the phone to grab his axe, and heads out the door. The phone keeps ringing. That's probably a PA calling with the monologue lines Angel was meant to recite during that scene. Or is it supposed to be the MoG calling because of the vision? I don't know, and nothing ever happens to clarify it.

Cut to the MoG, running down an alley. They sobered up pretty quickly, didn't they? Gunn spots a pool of blood on the ground, but they don't see a body anywhere. Gunn says that if Angel were there, he could sniff the victim out. Cordy replies, "He'd also kill the big spiney demon that took her." She mentions that the demon had big sharp pointy teeth as well, and Gunn repeats his wish that Angel was there, since they're all unarmed. Wesley snaps, "Well he's not!" Everyone is stunned by Wesley's keen grasp of the obvious. Wesley continues, "Angel's walked away from his duty. We're not going to." Wesley starts looking for clues to the girl's whereabouts, and immediately puts his hand in some ick that's on the wall. They look up and see that there's a trail of ick leading up to a window.

Dru and Darla wander out of a bar, past the demonic bouncer, and...wait, wasn't that fight club place the only demon haunt in town that they hadn't visited? So are they just leaving the fight club? Or is this just someplace they stopped in at for a drink? While I'm at it, exactly how much time has passed? Did the MoG try life on their own for a few days before meeting up at Caritas, or is this all happening the day after the Manners Manor massacre? And most importantly, will I be able to keep working "Manners Manor" into future recaps, even if Holland has departed from the show? These are the things I worry about. Anyway, Dru complains, "Didn't like that barkeeper. Can't get his eyes off my fingers." She wipes her hand on her shirt. That joke just didn't quite work for me. Maybe "I couldn't keep his eyes off me," would have been better. I don't know. Dru clarifies nothing by saying, "That was the last one," and insists that they should get to the factory. Vampires just loooooove hanging out in factories, don't they? Dru says, "We could have a thousand soldiers and still he'll come. Galloping, galloping, still he'll come." Has Drusilla been reading "The Highwayman," or is it just me? Darla is exasperated, and asks, "Can't a woman wreak a little havoc without there being a man involved?" Drusilla says that Darla misses Angel, "like a heartbeat." Darla says that her heartbeat was "a symptom of a disease I've since been cured of." She goes on to insist that "in a perfect world, Angel would be here right now, helping me burn this city to the ground. This is his job I'm doing, but where is he? Probably flogging himself in a church somewhere." Oh yeah, she's totally over him. As they walk on, Dru perks up with, "Ooo, flogging!" and then immediately groans, "Ew, churches." Darla goes on whining about perfect worlds and raining destruction and so forth. Dru falls back and moans, "I see such pretty fire..." and laughs. Darla goes on with her self-motivational talk, but finally pays attention as Dru adds, "So much suffering! The flames are lovely. They dance, and the fire licks like a cat. And the screams -- oh, it's like star music!" Darla is unimpressed by Dru poetry, and tells her to hurry up.

Angel arrives at the warehouse or factory or whatever. He opens the door and sees the gathering of demons. The slay-bag drops in slow motion. Look out, guys -- his internal monologue is a deadly weapon!

The MoG clamber into the window, having presumably shimmied up the drainpipe. See, now, that would have been a funny scene. But what do we get? Bickering. Wesley spots a body lying in a doorway. "But where's the --" Cordy wonders, and her question is answered when the toothy demon drops down in front of them. Blipvert.

During the ads, I try for the fiftieth time to call Johanna, but she isn't at home because she's out seeing Save the Last Dance and shopping for Backstreet Boys Valentine's Day cards. Both of which are fine activities, but they don't do me much good right now.

So, the MoG and the demon fight. Cordy tries to help the girl while Wesley and Gunn take turns swatting at the demon. We wind up with Wesley prone on the floor, and the demon on top of him, biting into Wesley's shoulder. Insert your own "ass-pansy" joke here. Gunn knocks the demon off with a breakaway chair, and then manages to jam a chair leg right through the demon's skull. Wesley stands up and suggests that they get the girl to a hospital. Cordy notes that Wesley is wounded, too. He looks at the bloody wound on his shoulder and says, "We should go, before I pass out. Or, possibly, during." Blipvert of the MoG bonding through teamwork.

Darla and Dru arrive at the factory, and Darla suggests that they, "get in there, weed out the losers, and get out." Despite Darla's impatience, Dru needs to take a minute to comment on how lovely the factory is: "Dank and dark; it reeks of death." Darla condescends, "That's motor oil, Dru." Drusilla asks if they can buy it, but Darla says "There's no view." Damn, I hoped they'd forgotten that particularly inane running gag. Oh, she also points out that they don't have any money, but maybe Lindsey will be able to help them out, if he's still alive. Does Darla not realize that, as long as she's killing and destroying things anyway, a little robbery really isn't out of the question? When she was running around with Angelus in her silk finery, was she relying on a human lawyer to arrange for funding? I think not. Dru says, "I like the girl; she's wicked." Darla describes Lilah and Lindsey as "sweet kids," and then segues into the anvil of dramatic yet vague foreshadowing: "I doubt they even know what Wolfram & Hart's true plan for Angel is. But I have to say, my curiosity is piqued." Not to be out-foreshadowed, Dru reaches for the door handle and intones, "Ten little soldiers all in a line, a shot rings out -- down to nine." Darla, irritated at constantly being upstaged, replies, "I''ll be happy if we can find three who can hack it." You're trying to raise an army, but you only expect to have three soldiers? I wonder if Darla has misinterpreted that new "An Army of One" slogan, and thinks that an army of three would constitute a fighting force of extraordinary magnitude.

Anyway, at long last, they enter the factory. And see several dead demons lying about. Dru pouts, "Dead already? Bad soldiers!" Darla looks around and -- whoosh -- the camera swings over to Angel, leaning against an abandoned car, puffing on a cigarette. Dru mutters, "A shadow," and starts waving her hand in front of her face. Darla asks, "Why so far away, my love? Why don't you come over here and...stake me?" Keep watching those Mae West videos, Darla. Maybe someday they'll take. Darla says, "Angel?" We get a close-up of Angel as he smokes away, and it's a matter of interpretation whether he looks cold, or sad, or tired, or bored. Only his acting coach knows for sure. Darla takes a cue from the cigarette, and tries again: "Angelus?" Angel throws the cigarette right into the nearby puddle of gasoline. The girls stare as the flames race toward them in slow motion, and then start screaming as they're surrounded by fire. Angel exhales the smoke, picks up his slay-bag, lets us see the gas can sitting behind him on the car, and slowly walks away. The flames form the outline of a bird with its wings spread -- oh, sorry; wrong Gothic vengeance fable. A hand reaches out of the fire and grabs a sledgehammer. Wrapped in flames, Dru and Darla run out of the building, and Darla uses the sledgehammer to smash open a convenient fire hydrant. They dance around under the water until the flames are out. Drusilla wails in pain, and very effectively I might add. Hey, that was pretty cool, right there, with the unexpectedness and the stunt work and so forth. Credit where it's due. The girls sit down on the curb, and Dru sobs, "I'm burning, make it stop, please!" Poor thing. Also, nice job on the yucky red burn makeup coating Darla's face, particularly since it's standing up to the gallons of water pouring down over her. And speaking of things pounding down on our heads, Darla just has to go and say, "That wasn't Angel!" Dru moans, "He's gone, he's all gone!" Darla tries desperately to simper loudly enough to be heard over the water and Dru cries, and gasps, "It wasn't Angelus, either. Who was that?" It was the Lone Ranger, Darla. Now shut up.

Sunrise. City-traffic-vert. At Wolfram & Hart, Lilah runs into Lindsey and asks if he heard about the fire. "They're still alive," he replies. "Undead," she corrects him. "Whatever," says Lindsey. Lilah goes on about how Angel killed a dozen demons and set Darla and Drusilla on fire, then asks, "A little grimmer than usual, don't you think?" Grimmer than pushing a vampire through the window of an office building in front of a dozen witnesses? Just asking. Lindsey's obscure reply is, "Holland's vision lives on." Lilah snaps, "Screw his vision. If anyone's going down in here, it's going to be you." Lindsey says, "If that's what it takes," and opens the conference room door. Eh? That's his comeback? If what is what it takes? If that is what what takes? Is this an Abbot & Costello routine? My head hurts.

Inside the conference room are a couple of guard-drones and a guy in a suit. Lindsey and Lilah sit down. The suit does the old, "you know why you're here," thing, allowing us to discover that he's got a very deep voice. He's got one of those distinctive voices, like a game show announcer or a "smooth jazz" disk jockey, where you hear their voice and picture what they look like, and then when you see them it's very disconcerting because their appearance is perfectly ordinary and doesn't go with their voice at all. That kind of voice. In fact, he's got that kind of face, too, because no matter how many times I watch this scene I keep thinking his voice is dubbed. I'm sure it isn't, but his voice just doesn't go with his face. Anyway, he says that "the senior partners have decided that this should be a time of grief and reflection." He does the obligatory can't-replace-Holland bit and then proceeds to discuss how best to replace Holland. "We need an Executive Vice President of Special Projects." Then he goes over how Lindsey has stolen company files, collaborated with the enemy, and disobeyed orders. Plus, he didn't bring a date to the wine tasting party. Lilah starts to look smug, but then the suit turns his attention to her. He says that she "drove away" Bethany Chaulk, who could have been a powerful assassin for the company. He adds, "Both of you have been extremely negligent about informing us of visits from certain...ladies...who, lest we forget, ate the majority of our contracts department." Heh. The suit concludes that neither of them is qualified for the position, and their competition with each other has been "vicious, destructive, and...healthy." Who saw that coming? Oh, everybody. Wow. He continues, "We think you keep each other on your toes, which is why we've decided to appoint you both as joint, acting Co-Vice Presidents until such time as we see fit to...narrow it down." Joint, acting Co-Vice Presidents. Uh huh. The suit offers growly congratulations, along with the obligatory, "The senior partners will be watching you," dose of paranoia. Gosh, now Lindsey and Lilah are going to have to vie against each other! So, um, nothing has changed, right? Just checking.

Angel is practicing his knife throwing in the basement. Oh, maybe all his training equipment was in the other boxes that he was lugging around in the teaser. Though I still don't understand why the basement is the ideal workout space. As Angel pulls the knives out of the target, Wesley descends the stairs behind him. Angel spins around and whips a knife straight into Wesley's heart. Not really. Just wishful thinking. Wesley declaims, "I thought you might like to know [that] we're keeping the agency open. With or without you." Are you keeping it open under the name "Angel Investigations," and using the hotel as a base of operations? Because if so, I'm not all that impressed by that declaration of independence. Angel just stands there, his back to Wesley, staring at the target. Wesley adds, "You may have turned your back on your mission, but we haven't." He turns and starts back upstairs, grumbling, "Someone has to fight the good fight." Angel throws a knife, which hits the target off-center. Angel closes his eyes, desperately trying to focus his psychic powers so that we can all hear his thoughts. It works: "Let them fight the good fight. Someone has to fight the war." He raises his arm, opens his eyes, and throws another knife, which hits the bulls-eye.