Previously on Angel...Gunn never had a Fred before; Wesley, Justine, and Holtz played hot potato with the baby, and Angel learned that the first step in forgiving is trying to suffocate Wesley with a pillow. Works for me.
Gunn and Fred are sorting through files at the Hyperion. Since Cordelia was the clerical staff, they're having some trouble. Fred puzzles out a note about "that couple that called last week with a squatter in their lair," and realizes that their case got lost in the shuffle. Gunn says, "I guess [Wesley] was too busy stealing the baby --" and then Fred tells him to drop it. Cary arrives. I feel sad. Oh, Cary. He's wearing khaki pants. Khaki. And a dull tie. What happened to his shiny suits and cravats and craziness? I know he's just slacking around, covering up for Cordelia's absence, but still. Maybe he's depressed. For Cary, wearing normal clothes is like a normal person swathing themselves in black. He says it's good to stay busy at times like this, and peers upstairs. Fred reminds us all about Angel losing his son, and how it's all very sad and tragic and it certainly isn't a reason to throw confetti around and shout "Woo!" in celebration. Fred is so very wrong about that, though. Cary wishes Angel would talk about his feelings, and has Cary ever met Angel before? Gunn says that it's probably better this way, adding, "I think the rage has passed, but do you really want to find out first-hand?" Fred thinks that Angel has given up on the idea of killing Wesley. Gunn says, "Only 'cause Wesley's too smart to show his face around here." Is Wesley likely to drop by, lugging his IV bottle along with him? I don't think Angel should give up so easily, anyway. I hear it's very helpful in times of depression to set yourself a little goal, find a project that will distract you and provide a nice feeling of accomplishment when you're done. Killing Wesley is just what the doctor ordered!
The door opens, and Cordy finally returns from her rest, relaxation, and re...vitalization. Oh yeah, and Groo's with her, too. "We're back!" Cordy shouts. "And we're bearing gifts," she adds, as everyone stares at her. They're probably trying to recognize her, which is difficult with her new short blonde hair. It reminds me of 1992-ish Madonna. What's , a crew-cut? Cordy stares at the somber MoG and finally asks, "What happened?"
And then we're upstairs, and Angel is in full brood. Which cracked me up. I don't know why. There's something about his giant head staring sadly at the burned-out crib; he really does look sad, and yet it makes me giggle so much. In the background, Cordy enters and sits down to him. She rubs his back and says, "I'm so sorry," and Angel's eyes glisten a little, and I laugh even harder. Angel finally looks down, and I regain control of myself.
Flash over to the cleverly named "Casino." Demons and people are mingling together happily as they gamble. Uh. Well, I guess it's a fairly reasonable extension of the demon underworld. Although if it's a secret illegal casino, maybe there shouldn't be a big neon sign over the door. This isn't really any goofier than the Fight Club in season one. But then, it's awfully hard for anything to be goofier than that. The casino's owner, a demon with pointy eyebrows who will eventually be identified as Jenoff, tells a flunky that he's spotted a cheater: "Palmed a king in his left hand. And Benny? Just take the left hand. We can still make money off the right." Benny leaves, and another demon wearing sunglasses steps up. I'm amused by the shades, because the demon doesn't have ears. So the frames are just wrapped around some convenient tentacles. Jenoff hands the demon an Angel Investigations business card and says, "Bring him in. His marker's up. Time to collect his soul." Gosh. Of course, there's no name on the card, so it's not much help to the demon. I'm sure he'll ask about that, so let's assume that conversation happens while we watch the credits.
Angel is brought to us by Jason X. Which looks so good. Like, Dracula 2000 good. Although it does seem a bit reminiscent of Leprechaun in Space. I'm still waiting for someone to use my friend's idea: Lep on the Bayou. Isn't that brilliant?
It's the day at the Hyperion, and Angel is lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sadly. Snicker. It's even better that his bed is singed from the fire. He's so sad that he doesn't mind getting his clothes all sooty! Cordy wanders in wearing a cruddy red sweatshirt. Yuck. So she went to Mexico and someone stole her hair and her fashion sense? I'll admit, her fashion sense was questionable to begin with, but at least she looked as if she was trying to be attractive. Cordy says, "I'm just here, okay?" Angel blinks in acknowledgement. Heh. She sits down on a chair with a book, and Angel closes his eyes so as not to creep her out. Or at least, not creep her out quite as much.
Groo says, "This house is sick with sadness." He's downstairs, watching Cary pack up Wesley's tea set and other stuff. Cary says, "Home is where the heart is, but these hearts are broken." I missed the episode where Cary traded in his wit for a pack of platitudes. At least he's wearing a bright suit. Groo expositions that he brought Cordy food and clothes for her "shivroth with Angel." Which Cary translates as a "ritual for the bereaved." So the Pyleans are Jewish? Fair enough. Groo asks if Cary is leaving, and Cary explains that the stuff isn't his. Groo asks if it's Wesley's kipple. Cary looks around nervously and says, "You might want to try to avoid saying the name." Cary's also taken up denial as a healing mechanism, I see. Remember how they tried not to mention Buffy earlier this year? It'd be funny if there was always Someone Who Cannot Be Named. Even if there weren't any grudges or heart-rending tragedies involved. It would be a fun office game: see who slips up and says "Lilah" out loud. Actually I hear they've been doing something like that with Giles' name over on the other show for a while now.
A couple of old demons named Syd and Monica are talking to Fred and Gunn in the office. They're like a demonic George and Gracie, if that's not redundant. Syd and Monica bicker about whether the person they talked to before was named "Wesley" or "Sherman." Gunn says that Wesley is on sabbatical, and Fred apologizes for forgetting about their case. The demons explain that they have a "no-good Skench demon" squatting in their lair. Skenches must have powerful calf muscles. With the squatting, see, because...never mind. Gunn asks if Skenches are an "impish kinda demon, like a leprechaun." Syd snaps that leprechauns don't exist. Monica explains that they had to abandon their lair, "What with the shrieking all night and the projectile phlegm." And then they bicker with each other some more, and Fred gets gooey upon hearing that they've been married for three hundred years. "Ever since the mitosis," Monica adds. Later jokes confirm that they're meant to be amoebic. Given everything else going on in this episode, I'm just going to let that go. Gunn says that Skenches can be killed with a simple decapitation, to which Syd says, "Sure, if you can avoid the phlegm." Monica claims that Syd has a phlegm phobia, and Syd insists, "I do not! I have a phobia about sputum." Heh. Sputum. Gunn says he'll take care of the Skench, and Fred adds that they'll call when it's taken care of. And off they go. Finally.
Fred gushes about how romantic it is that the demons have been together for hundreds of years. Because Fred is crazy. Gunn starts to get sucked into her saccharine, but we're spared when Groo suddenly enters, asking, "Is there evil to vanquish?" Gunn says, "Thanks, bro, I got it." I enjoyed how casual that was. Gunn makes sure to clearly tell Groo where he's going, which is nice since it sets up a later development, but you do have to wonder why anyone would bother filling in that detail when there's so little sense to be found in this episode. Fred nags, "Don't forget your machete," and Gunn yes-dears as he leaves. Groo tells Fred, "He's very lucky to have such a woman looking after his machete." Oh, so it's going to be that kind of humor this week. Swell. Cary enters with his box of Wesley crap, which he stuffs behind the desk. He says, "I have a reading in Topanga Canyon," which translates to, "Now that Cordy's back I guess I don't get any more lines." He's right, too. And away he goes. Bye, Cary! Fred eyes the box.
Wesley lies in his hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling sadly. He's just like Angel! But not as funny. Fred steps into his room carrying the box. Wouldn't it be better to take that to his apartment? Unless he has a sudden life-threatening tea emergency. Fred asks how he is, and Wesley gestures to his throat. Fred translates that to mean he can't talk, but I think it might just mean, "Fred, I feel bad enough without listening to you yammer, so please shut up." Fred explains that they found his notes, and she understands why he took the baby. She also apologizes for that whole thing where Angel tried to kill him. Wesley lifts his hand in a "For the love of all that is holy, woman, won't you please shut up!" gesture. At least, that's my interpretation. But she won't. Fred says, "But [Angel] was right to blame you, Wesley. You should have come to us. You should have trusted us instead of going to Holtz behind our back." So far, I'm with her, troubling as that is. But then she snaps, "If Angel sees you again, he'll kill you. This time for real!" and orders him to stay away from the hotel. "This time for real?" Was Angel just pretending to kill Wesley before? She also tells Wesley that the prophecy was false, and chirps, "It was all for nothing." And then stomps out. What a bitch. I don't even understand that last part, because she just said that she understood Wesley's motives -- it's not like he knew that the prophecy was a fake. I think she's right to be angry about the way Wesley kept secrets from them all, but this went much too far, particularly given that she's known Wesley for less than a year. I'd have bought this from Cordelia, because they've known each other for longer and she has more reason to feel betrayed. Fred doesn't have that relationship, and it seems as if she's angry at Wesley for causing Angel's murderous rage, which is a bit too much blame-the-victim for me. Feh.
The demon in sunglasses from the casino steps into the Hyperion. Groo greets him by saying, "Hail to you, potential client!" The demon asks if this is Angel Investigations, and upon hearing him speak I realize that it's Jason Carter. Who was Marcus on Babylon 5, and he's going to be called Marcus here as well, because his demon character never gets a name. I can't believe they covered up his pretty face with a demon mask. Wah! I'm so sad that I might have to lie down on my burned bed and stare at the ceiling. Groo confirms that he's found the right place, and Marcus menaces, "So, you must be Angel."
Cut to Gunn, traipsing through a sewer. He finds a doorway with a welcome mat that reads, "Gurfong bless our home." "Gotta be it," Gunn says, and pushes the door open. He looks around the lair for a minute and suddenly some phlegm splashes onto a nearby wall. The Skench demon appears, and they fight. After some punching, Gunn knocks the Skench down and stabs him with the machete. But doesn't cut his head off. I guess decapitation isn't the only way to kill it. A burst of yuck spews up toward the ceiling, narrowly missing Gunn. Gunn chuckles, "Must be my lucky day." "Wanna bet?" asks Marcus from the door.
When we return from the commercials, "Gangsta's Paradise" is playing. My notes here read, "What the hell is going on?" I think this would have been slightly less jarring if they normally used current tunes on the show, but apart from that Gorillaz song in "Billy" they don't. Which means that when I heard the music, my first reaction was, "This must be a commercial." And my second reaction was, "Why are they playing this song?" And then the "Seven years earlier" caption comes up, which helps explain it, but by then I was already confused, so maybe it should have been on-screen before the music started. Anyway, we see Gunn striding along. In his do-rag. Aw, sniff. He's so cute. This was back before Fred sucked his brains out, and he was subjected to a series of increasingly bewildering and contradictory attempts to delve into his character. Speaking of which...Gunn marches over to the casino and enters. I'm not going to try and make his visit to a demon hang-out correspond with Gunn's belief that all demons should be hated and distrusted and killed, for the simple reason that I refuse to admit that "That Gang of Mine" happened. If you can't block it out as easily, I guess you could decide that this was seven years ago, and maybe Gunn hadn't yet decided all demons were unequivocally bad. Or maybe he just didn't care. Which is another, equally valid, solution.
In the casino, Gunn steps out of an elevator and is stopped by Marcus. Gunn says he wants to discuss business, so Marcus searches him for weapons and then sends him over to Jenoff's table. Jenoff greets him, "Man of the streets, protector of the young and innocent. What can I do for you?" There's some discussion about wants versus needs, and I start to wonder if Jenoff's last name is Maslow, and then Gunn says he needs something, and hands Jenoff a picture which we, significantly, don't get to see. Jenoff misdirects, "She's a real beauty," and agrees that he can help Gunn for a price. He tries not to oversell the line, "The cost, Mr. Gunn, is your future." "What future?" Gunn sneers. Okay, then. Jenoff asks, "You're sure you wish to mortgage your future for your present happiness?" Gunn agrees. Doesn't using the term "mortgage" suggest that there's another way to pay back the debt? I mean, if Gunn can't repay Jenoff, he loses his future, right? So how would he repay the debt if he wanted to do so? Why am I wasting time trying to make sense of this? Jenoff asks him to shake hands on that, and a little needle pops out of a ring Jenoff's wearing. They shake, ow, and then Jenoff slaps Gunn's palm down on a contract which conveniently appeared on the table when no one was looking. Gunn leaves a bloody smear on the signature line. I'm also really curious about who would enforce this legal contract if it came to that, but again, this story really doesn't deserve that much thought.
Back in the present, Marcus reminds Gunn that he "signed a blood oath, trading [his] soul." Soul? I thought it was his future. Are they equivalent now? Or is this metaphorical? And it wasn't a trade, it was a mortgage, as I said. Or maybe he's trading his soul and mortgaging his future? Marcus thinks that Gunn's trying to get out of the deal, which Gunn denies. Marcus says, "You're planning on giving your soul to another, aren't you?" Gunn figures out that Marcus is talking about Fred. Marcus goes on complaining, and strongly implying that loving someone means literally giving them your soul, despite all of the theological problems that idea brings up in general, not to mention the many contradictions we could find just on Buffy and Angel. Like, soulless creatures can feel love. And, did Angel lose his soul as soon as he fell in love with Buffy? And...well, what the hell? I'm still trying to figure out what Jenoff wants with souls to begin with. What good is a soul to anybody but the person it belongs to? What a stupid premise. Fine, I just needed to get that out of my system. Gunn insists, "I'm not the same person I was then," and for some reason Marcus doesn't say, "Oh, fine then, you don't have to pay up in that case." Instead, he says that Gunn has twenty-four hours to "get [his] house in order" before he needs to go to the casino and pay his debt. He adds that, if Gunn tries to run, "we'll take your soul, and the girl's, too." Gunn blusters, and Marcus says that Fred's life is in Gunn's hands. Which adds another interesting issue: the implication is that people can't live without a soul. Except we've seen that they can. It's like someone was challenged: "See how much of the continuity you can screw up in one script!" I guess it's possible that Marcus is confused, or lying intentionally. Marcus leaves, and Gunn is swept away in a blipvert.
Gunn returns to the Hyperion, looking shell-shocked. Possibly because it's night already. The sun was certainly out when he left. I think they should give up and just declare that Angel Investigations is only open at night, and have the MoG adapt to Angel's hours. It's easier than trying to explain why the days seem to last for one scene, while the nights can span multiple episodes. Alternatively, they could move the show to Alaska. It could be like Northern Exposure meets Dark Shadows! But I digress.
Gunn slowly approaches an oblivious Fred and then Cordy waylays him. She's munching on a sub, and explains that she's taking a snack break because she thought it might be rude to "chow down in front of Angel." Cordy insists that she can "see the misery all over [his] face," and orders him to share his woes. As soon as Gunn sits on the steps, however, Cordelia declares that she already knows what's wrong. She guesses that Gunn feels guilty because he and Fred are so sickeningly happy together while everyone else is miserable. Cordy describes Fred as "a doll," because Fred sure isn't a fully realized character, and coos about what a cute couple Fred and Gunn are. I wonder if Cordy's new hairdo is a result of having her head shaved for the lobotomy. Fully rested from her time away from the show, Cordy is able to heft an anvil all by herself and toss it down on us by telling Gunn, "You and Fred have your whole bright futures ahead of you!" Cordy reads a few more Hallmark cards at Gunn, who finally admits, "I never figured I'd be around this long...or have this much." Cordy says that they don't have any "pressing cases," which implies they do have some trivial ones, but whatever. She finally feigns having a vision which she describes thusly: "It's of you and Fred taking tomorrow off!" She tells Gunn to have some fun, and goes back upstairs with her uneaten sandwich.
What was the point of that, anyway? Did Gunn have to suffer through all of that in order to earn his day off? And he gets a day off for looking slightly worried? I wish I worked for Cordy. Or whoever that Cordy-shaped girl with the blonde hair is. I prefer it when Cordy only cares about people's feelings when they may impact her directly. I can see her comforting Angel, because she knows what can happen when he gets moody. But I have no idea why she should care if Gunn feels guilty about feeling happy. Oh, Cordy. Why hast thou forsaken us? And while I'm asking unanswerable questions, why is Gunn happier after hearing this advice, when Cordy misdiagnosed his problem and said things about his future that probably that should have made him even more miserable? Perhaps we'll find out after Gunn steps into this blipvert. Which, by the way, contains a ghostly image of...uh, something. I think it's someone falling. Don't know who, or why.
The morning, Fred's in bed. Wow, they sure fixed up her room. Apart from the paint job, she's got a whole Ethan Allen bedroom set. And I think I see a typewriter, which was a primitive technological device that you younger viewers might have to ask your parents about. Fred's phone rings, and she happily answers it by saying, "All right, ready?" Oh, she's a morning person, too. Perfect. Fred begins what seems to be a habitual game where she tries to guess what Gunn is wearing. I don't know, either. Nor can I figure out why we're supposed to be entertained by the chance to watch her simpering and rolling around under the covers while speaking in the most cloying tones. And giggling, did I mention the giggling?
Finally the door opens, and it turns out that Gunn was right outside all this time. And he's carrying a covered dish with a rose on top. Jeez, Gunn is whipped. Maybe he's going to cut off her head and put it on the dish for a little re-enactment of Cary's magic trick. A girl can hope. Gunn and Fred finally hang up their damn phones after some more cutesiness, and Gunn places the tray on Fred's lap and lifts the lid in order to present her with some pancakes and waffles he picked up for her at the diner. Yum! Cold pancakes. In Styrofoam take-out boxes. And Fred gets plastic utensils, too. I'm choosing to take this as evidence that deep down, Gunn's suppressed hatred for Fred is finding some passive-aggressive ways to express itself. Fred digs into the pancakes, and asks if there's some special reason for the breakfast in bed. Gunn announces that they've got the day off, and says that they should "spend every minute of it having the best day of [their] lives." No pressure. Fred stuffs some pancake into Gunn's mouth and then says, "Pancake kiss!" They lean together, and I'm just going to file this with the dreaded ice cream incident. And then burn the file. By the way, my notes for that scene read, "I am filled with hate."
Cut to Wesley's hospital bed. Oh, this should cheer me up a little. A doctor enters and tells a still-mute Wesley that he can go home today. He asks if there's anyone who can take Wesley home. Wesley stares into space, wondering if the doctor remembers that he can't talk.
Angel's in hour five thousand of his epic crib meditation. Cordy appears to have nearly fallen asleep on the chair, and who can blame her? Suddenly Angel says, "I think he was gonna be left-handed." Cordy sits up and watches as Angel goes into an extended monologue about the handedness of his kid. He works his way to, "When you live as long as I do, you eventually lose everyone." Except his many beloved pals from the good old days! Oh, except he keeps killing them. Never mind. I must say, I was waiting for Angel to have a crisis about the fact that he was pretty likely to outlive his child. Although given his dangerous lifestyle, maybe he wasn't too concerned about that. He continues, "You think you know something about living because you have this really long life, but then you realize that you aren't very bright and learning from your mistakes isn't one of your strengths." Whoops, sorry, I might have made a little of that up. Apparently Angel felt as if having a child gave him a future, which seems peculiar to me because of the aforementioned mortality problem his child has, but then again see the aforementioned intellectual limits of our hero. Plus this was probably intended to tie into all that stuff Cordy said to Gunn, and develop into a deeply meaningful theme about souls and love and the future, which seems like it might be very profound if it made any sense..
We cut to an outdoor bistro of some kind, where a waiter is bringing Gunn and Fred a pair of milkshakes. Fred is wearing a shiny gold paper crown. This will never be explained. There's also a bag full of toys and stuff that I assume Gunn won and or bought for Fred. Gunn's flipping through the paper, asking Fred what movies they should go see. Do they ever do anything besides eat? Fred looks uncomfortable and admits that she's "kinda full," shocking the hell out of Gunn. He agrees to ease up on the food, but suggests they go shopping, or roller-skating. Fred begs off, saying, "We've been having so much fun today -- don't you think we should save some before we use it up, and all the other people get sad 'cause we took all the happy?" Fred, stop being Willow. You're more than annoying enough as yourself. Gunn moans that he tried too hard, but Fred reassures him by chirping, "It's not like we have to cram the rest of our lives into one single day, right?"
Gunn, already weakened by Cordy's assault, falls under the blow of a second anvil. Fred realizes that something's wrong from his reaction, and so naturally, she guesses that Gunn has leukemia. She's the smart one, ladies and gentlemen. Gunn cracks up, and Fred babbles some more. And then her psychic powers kick in, and she stares at Gunn intently, insisting that her queasy stomach isn't due to overeating: "It's us. What's wrong with us?" Well, you have no chemistry, your relationship makes no sense, Gunn's charisma is no match for your incredible powers to irritate, and let's not talk about the pancake kiss. Or was that a rhetorical question? At this point, I assumed that Fred felt strange because the soul-taking had begun, and Jenoff was acting on his threat to steal her soul as well. Gunn suggests that they go back to the hotel, but Fred interrupts, "Maybe we should stay right here and you should stop lying to me!" Maybe he wants to talk about it somewhere private, Fred. Good grief. She goes on squeaking at him, and then there are some strange shots of them from a distance and we hear the conversations at other tables more clearly. Once again, I thought this signified that Gunn's soul was being taken, which is why his behavior suddenly shifts. To ruin the suspense, I'll just tell you that no, there's no apparent reason for the strange camera work or anything else going on in this scene. Fred insists, "Whatever it is, we'll get through it together." Gunn leans back and declares, "No. We won't." Presumably he decided it would be kinder to make Fred feel wronged than to be honest. Or perhaps his whole plan was to ensure that he had a perfect day, and what would be more satisfying than breaking Fred's heart? Either way, Gunn says, "This isn't somethin' we're gonna talk through -- you share your feelings, I'll share mine, then we'll have a big hug." Fred sniffs that she doesn't like Gunn's tone, but I sure do. "Too bad," Gunn retorts. Fred goes all sad and lip-quivery as she asks, "Is it me?" Gunn says, "Wow. You finally figured that one out." Ha! This is funnier than Angel acting sad. I giggle even harder when Fred asks, "What's wrong with me?" and Gunn replies, "Now I gotta make a list? I don't think I have enough time!" Gunn declares that their relationship is over, and stomps off. Fred finally removes her stupid crown and chases after him in order to ask if there's someone else. "What's her name?" she quavers. Gunn sneers, "Her name is, 'I'm a real woman, not a stick-figure.' Get the picture?" What a coincidence -- that's my name! Gunn leaves, and Fred spends the commercial break trying to find enough spare change to pay the bill for their lunch.
After the commercials, we return to the crib of misguided storylines. Angel stares. Cordy speechifies. It's dull. I'm amused to note that the camera moves to focus on Angel, leaving Cordy blurred in the background as she talks and talks and talks. Which is funny because Angel's just got the one expression, and Cordy is the one acting. Her pep speech is basically that Angel will always miss his son, and it'll suck, and life goes on they'll continue to help people "because that's what [they] do." Whatever. It's dumb. And as I said, I can accept that Cordy would want to cheer up Angel, but I'd have preferred something closer to, "Quit sulking, because you're giving me the creeps. Plus, given how much you love being miserable, I'm worried that you'll brood yourself right into a moment of happiness accidentally." I'm going to pretend that was going to be her big finish, because they're interrupted by snuffling sounds outside. Angel turns a little bit as Cordy goes to see what the noise is. I like the idea that he's thinking, "Um, hi, mourning dad here! More important than stupid Fred! Sheesh." Because, of course, it is stupid Fred, crying in the hallway. Angel comes to peer at her and asks what's wrong. Fred sobs, "It's Charles. He's in terrible danger."
Cut to Jenoff, poking two fingers into the eyes of some random unimportant guy. Blurry light floods out of his head and down Jenoff's arm as he aaaaahs in satisfaction. Downstairs, Gunn marches through the casino and over to Marcus. He says, "I'm here to pay my bill." Ridiculous as this plot is, I think it would have been slightly improved if this hadn't involved Gunn at all. Like, if the wife of the random unimportant guy hired them because he had these gambling debts of some kind, and so on and so forth. I just wish we hadn't added another load of lameosity to Gunn's already hefty burden. Of course, then we might not have gotten the one good line coming up in the scene.
Cordy, Angel, and Groo are down in the lobby, listening to Fred's tale of woe. Groo offers his sympathy to Fred, but Angel blurts, "I'm a little confused." Cordy interrupts to ask why Fred thinks that Gunn's in danger. "He broke up with me!" she shrieks. "Ah," says Cordy. Fred adds, "But not really!" Groo says, "That is good! I am relieved." After a lot more of that kind of thing, Fred manages to get across the idea that Gunn was acting very strangely, and so the break-up must have been for some reason other than Fred's complete loathsomeness. Angel interrupts, "Let me get this straight: you and Gunn are dating." Hee hee. And his expression is so great, it's like, "I figured this out! By myself!" See, Angel can be very funny with the straight lines. Just don't let him tell jokes intentionally, that's all. Fred shrieks some more in frustration, forcing Cordy to hug her to shut her up. Have I mentioned that Cordy's wearing some crazy early-eighties suede safari jacket? Be glad I didn't mention it. Fred insists that Gunn was trying to protect her, which means that he must be in trouble somehow. Angel intones, "Then I guess we better help him. We are not losing another member of this family."
Ironic cut to Wesley's apartment. Still cluttered with the torn bits of his diaries left behind by Gunn and Fred. Wouldn't they have taken those along when they left? Like, to show to Angel? Wesley steps inside with his box of junk and kicks the door closed.
Cordy finishes her unsuccessful attempt to call Gunn. Angel suggests splitting up to look for Gunn, and Groo supports that idea in his clueless fashion. Cordy looks at Groo lovingly while Angel indulges in some rapid-fire planning dialogue. The joke here is that they're moving too fast for Groo, who keeps nodding like a dope to indicate that he can't keep up. And when someone can't keep up with Angel's quick-thinking, you know there's a problem. Cordy suggests reporting Gunn's truck as stolen, and Angel agrees that involving the police is a good idea. There are still police in L.A.? I thought Kate took them all with her when she left, since they've stopped bothering Angel despite his many transgressions. Angel instructs everyone to regroup at the Hyperion at midnight. Groo holds up a business card and suggests, "As we search, we could leave these small rectangles behind, as did that creature who came by yesterday inquiring about Gunn." Cue the looks of dawning comprehension from the MoG. Angel grabs the card, which turns out to be for "Jenoff's Casino." Angel recognizes the name: "The soul sucker." Ha. "Soul-sucker."
Jenoff's flunkies drag away the body of the random unimportant guy. So, I guess losing your soul does kill people, then? Maybe it's a side-effect of whatever Jenoff is doing. Jenoff walks up to Gunn and praises his courage. He says, "She must be pretty special, this girl you were planning to give my merchandise to." I'm going with the idea that Jenoff is lying. Or crazy. Heck, maybe he's not taking souls at all. Maybe he actually feeds off of, uh, some emotion. Regret or something. So he waits until the victim will have a lot of regret, and then calls in the debt. Nothing to do with souls at all, you see, because that would just be silly. Gunn gets all tense at the mention of Fred, but Jenoff assures Gunn that Fred's in no danger. Then he orders his flunkies to hold Gunn, but Gunn doesn't think that's necessary. "Let's just get this over with," he says. Jenoff raises his fingers to Gunn's eyes...
And then Angel crashes through the doors (without breaking them, for once) shouting, "Gunn!" That's not really a good thing to shout in a crowded place, y'know. Gunn whirls, and the other patrons get all excited as Angel and the MoG march in. Angel, Cordy, and Groo get to fight a couple of flunkies, and Fred proves her usefulness by shouting, "Charles!" The patrons, almost entirely demonic this time, surround the gang, and Angel gets to be straight man again:
Cordelia: Angel!
Angel: I know.
Groo: We are surrounded!
Angel: I know.
Fred: We have to save Charles!
Angel: I. Know!
I like how he gets more and more exasperated during that exchange. Angel grabs a flunky and holds his axe to its neck, demanding to talk to Jenoff. Jenoff steps forward, and Angel whines that Gunn is a valuable employee. Jenoff suggests that Angel should have checked his employee's background more carefully. Angel gives up on the very heroic "pity" strategy, and says, "I'll make a deal with you," and then my VCR freaked out and stopped taping for a minute, and I cursed and tried to figure out why it stopped, and how to get it recording again, and there was no reason for it at all, stupid electronics, and I finally got everything working again just as Angel says, "You win, you get us both." Which is probably all you need to know, anyway. I mean, you saw the title and you pretty much knew how this was going to end up, right? Then we go to commercial, and I tell my VCR that I'm very, very annoyed with it.
When we return, Cordy is admiring Angel's "brilliant stall tactic" and asking what his real plan is. She don't know him very well, do she? Angel holds up a deck of cards and insists that they'll win Gunn's soul back. Fred sniffs, "It's not money or a stuffed bunny [that] Angel's playing for -- it's my boyfriend!" Did they give Cordy's self-absorption to Fred accidentally? She doesn't wear it as well, I must say. Does she not understand that Gunn might have some value even apart from his pancake kisses with her? Angel reassures Fred that he has some experience playing cards, and Fred just whines some more about losing Gunn, and if the only threat here was that Fred might be unhappy, I'd be rooting for Jenoff. Groo suggests that fighting might give them better odds, but Angel insists, "My way's safer." Fred notes that if Angel loses, and his soul is taken, he'll go evil and start killing everyone. If he starts with Fred, I don't think that's a problem. Angel insists that he'll win, adding, "And if I lose, you know what to do." With that, he hands Cordelia a stake. "Make it quick," he says, and Cordy says, "You know I will," in a strangely chipper way. Okay, I'm vehemently against any romance between these two, but I admit that I am somewhat intrigued by the idea of a couple who flirt by exchanging serious death threats. I'm just sentimental that way.
Suddenly there are humans in the crowd again, as everyone in the casino places bets on the impending game. Marcus leans in to tell Gunn, "Jenoff lets me have the bodies when he's done with them." I mostly mention this because it's another opportunity to note how tall Gunn is. He towers over Marcus. Dreamy sigh.
Angel sits down to Jenoff at a table, and the terms of the bet are restated because I guess we're running a little short this week. Jenoff wins, he gets the souls of Gunn and Angel; Angel wins, they can go. Jenoff invites Angel to name the game: "Omaha, Texas Hold-'Em, Seven Card Stud?" Wait, the other gamblers were betting on who'd win without even knowing what the game was? Apparently demonic gamblers are even bigger chumps than human gamblers. Angel suggests that they just cut the deck, high card wins. Because those other games are too complicated for him. Although I bet he has a great poker face. Jenoff agrees, and goes first. He gets a nine. The spikey warts on his hands are a nice touch. There's a shot of the crowd, and I note that Fred's pretty when her mouth is closed. She should try that look more often. Angel takes his time about things, going so far as to blow on his fingers before turning up a card. Which turns out to be a three. Angel looks down smugly, takes it in, and gripes, "A three?" Jenoff slams his hand down on the table triumphantly, giving Cordy the opportunity to smash the stake through it and into the table. Then she and Angel get a joint-quip, which is doubly painful. Angel grabs his axe and quickly cuts Jenoff's head off. The crowd gasps, Gunn punches Marcus out, and Fred opens her damned mouth. Gunn starts to tell Angel something, and Angel casually insists, "It's over. No need to say thanks." Gunn agrees, noting, "If killing him was that easy, I woulda done it myself." And then there's a rather cool gross-out effect, as an undeveloped head pops out of Jenoff's neck and screams. Angel looks around at the crowd, and asks, "Anybody else in here owe this guy?" The crowd surges forward, and Angel and the MoG exit as the gang of gamblers proceeds to punch Jenoff. To death. I guess. Everyone else is acting like this will solve the problem, so I don't see why I can't, too.
And then as our reward for enduring all of that, we're treated to a scene with Gunn and Fred making up. Damn it. They're in Gunn's truck, and Gunn is apologizing profusely for the things he said to Fred. Poor Gunn. After a kiss -- yuck -- Fred demands to know who Gunn sold his soul for. Gunn tries to avoid the question, saying it was a long time ago. Finally he admits, "It was a truck. I was seventeen years old, and I sold my soul for a truck." Fred mocks him, and Gunn points out that the truck saved a lot of lives, including his own. Plus, it doesn't yammer at him constantly. He adds, "I didn't think a soul was that big a deal. Didn't think I had a future then. Now I do." Okay, so he's just insecure. He doesn't realize that he can do better than Fred. That's so sad. They coo over each other some more, and suck face, and I feel sick.
At the Hyperion, Angel has decided that he's fallen way behind on his crib-staring. Cordy opens the door and looks at Angel without him noticing. She's wearing a crazy sheer wrap over another shirt. Ah, there's the crazy fashion sense. Much better. As she watches, Angel starts to dismantle the crib. Cordy closes the door and leaves. I bet Angel is going to build a little fort out of the crib bits. It'll be his secret clubhouse where he can brood as much as he wants without getting lectured. Good for him.