Anyone who's ever wanted to be a fly on the wall has clearly been aiming too low. Why not aspire to be the fly on the TV screen? The episode begins with the camera following a fly around as it alights on a golf ball. Then we see the golf ball being hit, and the camera's perspective shifts to the ball. The golf ball careens wildly all over the place, flinging itself against things and arcing up toward other targets -- golf carts, trees, lamps -- in the kind of path that would make a physics professor cry if you asked her to calculate the velocity and force necessary to pull that off.
The ball then happens to land beside Greg's still-breathing body. I kid you not: as the ball plops down in the sand beside him, you can see his arm rise and fall in time to slow, deep breaths. In any event, Greg and the golf ball are left to their own devices while two whooping golfers pilot a golf cart over in time to fortuitously discover the body. I tell you, the CSI parallels are stunning.
As the cart bounces off a rock, we see that Jessica Simpson is driving. I'm kidding! I just can't get over Newlyweds: The Nick and Jesscia Show: every week I tune in just to see how she defies natural selection and survival of the fittest. Anyway, it's two drunk guys in a golf cart. Too bad nobody's come up with CADD -- Caddies Against Drunk Driving. The guys hoot with laughter, and as one of them decides to recycle a little beer against a tree, the other stumbles off to get the ball. Both guys chorus, "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas!" Do people really run around chanting advertisements? I mean, in anything less than a snickering tone of irony?
Anyway, Drunkard #2 finds his golf ball. He only now notices the body because he's a few inches away from it, and it's not like a body left out in the hot Las Vegas sun for a few days would have attracted the attention of the local fly population. Drunkard #2 calls out, "I...I think you killed this guy." Drunkard #1 turns around and asks, "What?", watering the grass as he does so. Nice. Both men decide to deal with their discovery by screaming and running off.
Just then, a plane rushes overhead. We zoom by just in time to see how it's sporting the Montecito logo -- would a private casino plane have that? I thought the whole point of these planes would be the anonymity? Anyway, we have to find out that it's the Montecito's plane, because how else can we transition to an SUV with the Montecito logo on the side, and watch Danny let someone with frighteningly well-maintained mullet out of the car? Ah, business in front, party in back. How ironic that the Montecito's got exactly the opposite going on, huh?
Anyway, the man with the mullet gives the camera a greasy smile, then hops onto a golf cart that wheels him through the back corridors of the casino. A door opens, and we see Danny and the man standing there. The man is carrying a hardback book with him; maybe he's about to swear in a cocktail waitress?
Well, it turns out he's not really swearing in cocktail waitresses -- he's fondling an array of women dressed as French maids. He recognizes many by name, and alludes to all sorts of complicated sexual activities. When he reaches the end of the line, Big Ed and Sam are waiting with glares in place. Maybe they're holding him responsible for Sam's new caramel-blonde 'do; she really looks better as a brunette. Anyway, Sam says sotto voce, "If he comes near my ass, I'll deck him." Big Ed replies, "No, you won't." I stop for a moment to ponder what it must be like to work in a place where your boss not only tolerates your harassment, but procures women for the customers.
Anyway, Mr. Business-in-Front-Party-in-Back finally rides his own trail of slime to where Sam and Big Ed are standing. Big Ed greets him with, "Hello, Senator." I should mention that Danny's been in this scene, but as per his usual scenes, you wouldn't notice. Predictably, Senator Business-in-Front-Party-in-Back takes Sam's chilly "If there's anything I can do to make your stay more enjoyable, please don't hesitate to ask" as a single entendre. Hey, he's not subtle enough for the doubles.
Oh, sweet blessed Elvis. I have never been so happy to hear your dulcet tones. Heal this show, and I will make thee a pilgrimage to Graceland. Truly, thou art the King of Kings!
And then we have ads -- my God, nobody should let Carter outside. It looks unnatural on him.
Now we're back. People are surfing in the Mandalay Bay's wave pool. Boy, I bet the Montecito folks wish they had thought of this. We hear a version of "Wipeout" playing. The camera settles on the mass of pretty people sunning themselves at the poolside while others surf. Hey, it's Delinda! How delightful. We see a disc jockey table and other assorted outside equipment; somewhere in the middle of mess, Mary is running around like she's supposed to be there, and not at the Monte-- oh. I get it now. The loudspeaker helps me out with, "And today's 'Desert Surfing' championship, brought to you by the Montecito..."
As the camera switches back from the surfers waiting to catch a "wave," we see that the sound staging area is swaddled in NBC banners. All we need now is some random overgroomed TV star earnestly telling us to stop hitting our kids and start reading books to them instead.
Surfers run around doing their surfing thing. Mary runs around in her tank top doing...whatever it is special events coordinators do. Then the perspective shifts so we're seeing it through a security monitor. That is a pretty handy device for transitioning between shots.
Danny is studying Mary and her scene in a weirdly quiet security room. Big Ed comes in and gravitates to the giant security monitor displaying a bikini'd Delinda. He barks to Danny, "You let her go out like that?" Okay, since when did "let" enter the vocabulary of a relationship's give and take? Big Ed sputters, "Look what the hell she's wearing!" "Or not wearing," leers Danny. At least, he tries to leer. I can't believe he even tried that: how much of a moron do you have to be to make that kind of comment to your girlfriend's dad? Big Ed gives Danny a glare, and Danny makes the deer-in-the-headlights face as he VOs, "Did I just say that out loud?" Oh, ha ha. Big Ed says all menacing-like, "You better get control of her. Do you hear me?" I just love how Delinda's treated as though she is but chattel to be managed by one man or another. It's so endearing. Danny ponders, "'Get control of her'? Does Ed even know his daughter? Damn, she's hot. If I weren't working right now..." Big Ed screams over Danny's shoulder, "Hey!" Well, you know, Ed, if you've got that much of a problem with it, maybe putting something else in the six-foot-wide screen your daughter currently occupies might work.
The two men move on to a different topic. Big Ed tells Danny, "Our special friend is going to be staying with us for a few days." "Did he bring his virtue police with him?" Danny snots. Everyone who hasn't heard of William J. Bennett, his Book of Virtues, and the revelation that he's blown a lot of money gambling -- well, now you have. Enjoy what passes for sly commentary on this show. Big Ed points out, "Senator Henderson doesn't want anyone to know he's here." "Well maybe Senator Henderson shouldn't have ridden in a plane with 'Montecito Casino' written on it in twelve-foot letters, then disembarked to ride in a SUV with 'Montecito Casino' written on it in six-foot letters," Danny replies. Oh, he does not. He only passes judgment on the senator as a moral hypocrite, because he's resolved the moral qualms he has concerning the informal pandering the casino does. Danny rails some more about how the Senator indulges in every one of the seven deadly sins, and adds, "I think he's up to number nine of the ten commandments." I would have liked to have seen how the senator worshipped graven idols at the Montecito, or dishonored his father and mother. Big Ed's all, "I said he's a special friend of the Montecito's, and did I mention he owes us 3.5 million?" No, I don't believe you did.
Before Danny can ask, "Why would you let him carry that much of a loss?" the allegedly humorous subplot rears its head down by the valet. A man wearing armor and sitting astride an ill-tempered horse is busy making a ruckus down at the driveway. Mike is standing with his mouth agape, mentally drafting the schematics for a horse clamp. Back in the security room, Danny says wanly, "That's our new King Arthur for the show." You know, he does everything wanly. Dump this pretty blockhead for a pretty actor. There's a faint resemblance between Josh Duhamel and Ben (sigh) Browder. Bring on the Browder! He's pretty and he can act. He'd be fun to watch! We could make him wear leather pants, and kick people, and...
Whoa. Sorry. Drifted off for a moment. Anyway, there are signals on the floor, and we see that they belong to tiny audio and video devices being wielded by an ugly reporter. Big Ed and Danny head down to the floor to curtail the freedom of the press. Ah, the reporter's going after the senator, who's ditched the suit for the kind of shirt and dark glasses that more or less match the mullet. As the senator gambles, Danny and a team of thugs descend on the reporter who's recording everything.
Naturally, the first words out of the reporter's mouth are, "Guess you never heard of the First Amendment." I guess the reporter never heard of "private property"; technically, he's trespassing. First Amendment protections don't apply when dealing with private property. We ID the guy as Aaron Walker. He's a reporter, but the episode's writers have declined to give us a press affiliation. It's safe to assume Walker doesn't work for Dateline. Big Ed tells Walker they don't allow working reporters in the casino. Walker rebuts, "Freedom of speech." Again -- doesn't apply in private property. Every working reporter knows that. Unless the Montecito is being run by the Executive Branch, the reporter hasn't got a leg to stand on. Big Ed explains the private property thing, and adds -- correctly -- that the guests have a right to privacy. Walker asks, "Does that include public figures like Senator Henderson?" Well, yes. By Walker's rationale, you could crash a cocktail party in someone's home by arguing that there were senators present. "Public figure" typically means limited protection when it comes to libel, but unless Senator Henderson is at the casino in an official capacity, he's more or less a private citizen once he's there. Maybe this guy and his limited grasp of what constitutes journalism does work for Dateline after all. The reporter keeps trying to get Big Ed to admit in some way, shape, or form that yes, the good senator is currently slapping the bottom of Freedom maids, but Big Ed's too smart. "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas," Walker finally blusters. He is shown the door. As he's being escorted out, Walker shouts, "I know the senator's here, I know he plays here, and I know he owes the casino money." Does he know he just gave Big Ed a number of leads to trailing that press leak? Big Ed suggests that Walker maybe take himself to Primm or Jean for the night. He then tells Danny, "I don't want this guy within a mile of the senator."
And now it's time for funny plot! Some joker in chain mail wanders in; Mary bobs anxiously in his wake and tries to figure out how to say "the Excalibur's down the street" in Old English. The knight sees Big Ed and attempts to boom, "Merlin! Where have you beeeeeen for the pahst faive hundred yerrz. Merlin!" Big Ed is standing there, wondering why a lunatic is caressing his clenched jaw. On the edge of the crowd, some touristy yokel is busy telling her equally touristy husband and a horrified Mary, "We heard Las Vegas was the entertainment capital of the world, but we did not realize that there was entertainment everywhere!" Her husband babbles excitedly, "Yeah! Yeah! Susie wanted to go to Branson, but I kept telling her that everybody who's anybody comes to Vegas!" He then introduces himself. Mary nods with a fixed grin, her brain probably still looping over "entertainment capital of the world?" and fretting for the global implications of this statement.
The knight errant opens his mouth and bellows, "Citizens of Camelot!" Yeah, yeah. He eats ham and spam and jam a lot. He sings from the diaphragm a lot. He has to push the pram a lot. Why on earth is he here and not at the medieval-themed Excalibur (huzzah!) down the street? The knight attempts to present Merlin. Merlin is none too thrilled, but the touristy folks are delighted. The knight grabs a camera and asks, "What strange nieeeeew magic do you have, Merlin, that hah-llows you to sieeee everythinggg?" Mary darts forward to explain that this is the actor for the new Camelot stage show, and he's supposed be good. Big Ed grits, "Mary, get King Arthur out of my face." Just then, Arthur catches sight of Danny and bellows, "Launcelot! My frr-rr-rr--rriend! My brr-rr-rr-rother!" There's a rather passionate, if tinny, embrace on Arthur's part. Danny just stands there, thinking, "C'est moi?" I'm wondering if Arthur would greet Lancelot so warmly if he had made it past the halfway mark in the book. Just then, Arthur catches sight of Nessa minding her own business and shouts, "Lady Guinevere?" Technically speaking, isn't she Queen Guinevere? How's this lunatic supposed to be a great King Arthur when he can't be bothered to get basic details like his marital status straight?
Anyway, Arthur goes charging across the casino floor, a panicky Big Ed in his wake. Arthur chews off a piece of scenery, and repeats, "Guine-VERE! My love. My life. Merlin, serenade her for me." Well, there goes another piece of the Arthurian legend; it should have been, "Merlin, see why she's got this big, round table on her wedding registry." Nessa, unfortunately, seems charmed by this madman. Danny complains to Mary, "[Arthur's] wearing real armor." Mary takes this time to snap, "I'm worried about Greg, Danny." Because now is the time to bring it up. This episode baffles and irritates me. I'd rather look at Nessa and think about when the actress was on Playing the Field, a British drama about a working-class women's football team that combined Melrose Place with The White Shadow. This show had everything: Jo, who learned that her sister Teresa was really her mother; Teresa, who had Jo by her best friend Geraldine's dad; Geraldine, who had her first baby by her husband Dave's brother Rick; Diane, who was Geraldine's teammate and Rick's wife...oh, I could go on. Just suffice it to say that each week had some shocking revelation -- frigid Gabrielle turning into a sex machine after bubble baths with deeply closeted Angie, Shazza (this would be the role Marsha Thomason played) threatening suicide before leaping into an ill-considered marriage with Jo's brother, and then running off with a former juvie boyfriend, or Geraldine teaming up with best friend Rita to try and kill Rick -- but he frames them while comatose because he's so crafty and evil! If any television executive had half a brain, they'd bag the unsuccessful attempt to cram Coupling down our throats and bring over Playing the Field. Tragically, I am the only person on the planet who thinks of this show fondly; BBC America has expunged all mention of the show from their website archives, the sole fansite is dead and gone, and even if I could get past the heartbreak of knowing that only four series out of the five shot were on VHS, I couldn't surmount the heartbreak of knowing the tapes are only available in PAL format. Sometimes it's hard to be a one-woman cult following for a gloriously overwrought TV show.
However, it's not as hard at attempting to wring any semblance of entertainment from this scene. Danny and Mary bicker some about Greg while Arthur runs around, presumably swearing Bedivere the blackjack dealer and Gawaine the roulette wheel operator into his service. ("Do you have any brothers? A Gaheris who works in hotel security? Agravaine the valet? Gareth in the kitchens?") In any event, we establish that Danny, Mary, and Greg had a fourth friend, Luis, who is now a cop. Big Ed gestures for Danny to deal with the reporter (who is now watching this instead of, say, going after the senator) while he handles Lunatic Rex. A pickpocket is about to make Susie Yokel's life a lot harder, but then Arthur pulls a bona fide sword -- oh, like security would have been okay with a madman running around on the casino floor with that -- and apprehends the pickpocket. Susie Yokel enthuses, "I didn't even feel him take my wallet!" Big Ed gives Arthur a cool thanks before turning to the Yokels and comping them their stay. Oh, that's a little much. Before Big Ed can reflect on how the once and future king has rattled his nerves, he's got a call from the senator telling him there's a problem.
Switch to the suite where the senator is staying. In case we missed all the references to him being a hypocrite before, there's a TV in the background playing his latest press appearance, and he's back in DC drag, autographing books and glossy photos of himself. We see the TV appearance where Henderson's whipping out a new accent and saying, "The liberal left, with their perverted TV shows and music, are taking this country right down the toilet." The senator grins to Ed, "French maids are fun, but I need some real action." Big Ed says listlessly, "I strongly recommend you not leave Montecito on this trip." Sam says nothing. Evidently, she's just here for decorative purposes. The senator brings out another accent and says, "I'm sure you'll be able to protect my privacy. You always have been." Ed points out that a reporter was sniffing around; this doesn't alarm the senator like it should. So then Big Ed says wearily, "Sam, put him in makeup and give him a wig. A good one." The camera zooms in close on the senator's grinning face.
The camera zooms out again on the senator, who now looks like he came off the set of Starsky and Hutch. He whips out another accent and says, "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas!" I swear, the man's a walking dialect map: he opens his mouth and a whole new region gets represented. I had been thinking about refreshing my knowledge of the International Phonetic Alphabet (IPA) and looking up how to encode it so I could accurately depict every vowel movement for you, but then I decided giving everyone a crash course in how to accurately depict phonemes in print was a lot more trouble than simply saying that this guy was played first and better by Bob Odenkirk. Just tune in to the episode of Mr. Show where Senator Tankerbell drawls, "I wish I could be everywhere that people are doing art, so that I could see it before the public sees it and I could keep them from being titillated or aroused or in any way confused by the counterculture." That's where this senator is going, only the comedy is unintentional and the accent comes and goes.
Currently, the senator's not on a crusade to protect us all from titillation by godless liberal music or TV. He's off to the strip bar. Too bad his security entails Danny, with Mike behind him. They tear down the street, flogging the "Mike makes funny inventions" horse. As Danny drives, he whips out his cell phone -- I really hate it when people talk and drive -- and calls his dad. I guess he's gotten over his hang-up about the family business. We pretty much establish that Danny's dad hasn't seen Greg either. McCoy complains good-naturedly that Greg left him shorthanded, and reiterates that Greg needed to talk to Danny. "You did call him, didn't you?" he asks. Danny wanly replies, "I never got a hold of him." McCoy says, "Oh, that's too bad, because he said he really needed to speak to you." Well, there's always the Ouija board. The two McCoys have an exchange which is not so much ironic as it is painfully obvious and dull -- "I'm sure everything's okay." "Yeah, I'm sure it is" -- and that's the end of that conversation. Mike, meanwhile, has been carrying on several meaningful vehicular relationships with women we hear screaming off-screen.
And then Danny VOs in a rapid monotone: "Mary's right. Something must be wrong. Greg would never put my father in a bind like this. He and Mary and I grew up together. He was the kind of guy who was fun to be around, but who was always getting in trouble. And I think he might be in big trouble now." Only if you believe in capricious Gods and miserable afterlives, Danny. As Danny has been ruminating on this, night has fallen in double-time, and Mike has apparently flown out of the passenger seat like so much plot litter. I kid you not: Danny began following the senator when it was blazing daylight, and he was deflecting Mike's automotive advances. And now it's completely dark and Danny's alone. Where is this strip club? Arizona?
Anyway, now we're at this week's "We have a plot excuse for showing half-naked women! Really!" moment. Where is the Parents' Television Council now? They're still hung up on the Gap advertising on F/X's 10 PM Nip/Tuck, when it seems like it might be more appropriate to howl over what's appearing on broadcast TV an hour earlier. Then again, that would make sense. Back in the scene, Sam is looking none too thrilled to be standing around while the senator enjoys a girl sandwich. When Danny walks in, she lazily points out where the reporter happens to be. Danny commands security to get the senator back to the Montecito -- and why didn't they think of this on their own? -- then goes off to bully the reporter some more. I'm no lawyer, but isn't he on really shaky legal ground here? Unless the Montecito owns the strip bar, their employees have no jurisdiction over it. They didn't even rent it out for the night -- the presence of other patrons indicates that it's open to the public. So if the reporter happens to go in here, he's still demonstrating a poor understanding of private property, but he's not crossing the Montecito.
Sam hustles the senator out over his protests and his falling moustache. Meanwhile, Walker whines, "So this is how it's gonna be -- wherever I go, you follow? Before you give me the 'get out of Vegas' speech, have you ever wondered why the senator only plays at the Montecito?" Given that Danny seemed all surprised that Senator Henderson was staying there in the first place, "probably not" seems like a safe answer to that question. Danny plays dumb -- not a stretch -- and the reporter intimates that Henderson has something over Big Ed that goes back to their days together as head of the Senate Intelligence committee and CIA special operations, respectively. Danny kind of stares while he processes this. The reporter leaves after caustically commenting on his room outside city limits, and Danny stares some more. Eventually, both men exit the "Lapland Lounge," and an unmarked car rolls up, its siren blaring once.
Danny throws up his hands: "Please don't tell me the guy called the cops on me, Luis?" When would he have been able to? Luis comes on over. Danny's still grinning kind of vacantly. He asks, "What? What is it?" Luis replies, "It's Greg."
It's Greg, indeed -- in a body bag. The body's lying on a gurney in a green-lit hallway, because this morgue in no way resembles that which might appear on any other show taking place in Las Vegas. The two men stand around and do not comment in the slightest on the smell. Danny eventually composes himself enough to ask, "Where'd you find him?" Luis says, "The edge of a golf course. A couple of drunk golfers stumbled across him." Danny and Luis watch a morgue attendant wheel a remarkably flat-looking body on by while Danny tells Luis that Greg had been trying to get in touch with him, but he had no idea why. We establish that Greg was a gambling addict. Danny's all, "If I had only encouraged his addiction through codependence, we wouldn't be asking the viewers to try to care about the death of a character to whom they were never introduced and in which they have no interest." Luis then says, "Que te pasa? You should have told me he was missing." Danny's too distracted to wonder why Luis has to throw in a little español for no good reason, and keeps beating his breast over how he should have called. Danny eventually VOs, "We all tried to help Greg at one time or another: Mary, my dad, me, even Luis."
Then the scene gets a little overwrought as the two men quickly figure out that are only two loan sharks in all of Las Vegas who will deal with compulsive gamblers (uh-huh), and it's either "Tyler O'Reilly" or "Johnny Stones." The minute Danny comes up with the names, Luis gets all overdramatic, bugging out his eyes and insisting, "You stay out of this, Danny!" Danny weakly offers that Greg was his friend, and Luis argues that Greg's addiction more or less robbed him of the capability to be anyone's friend. Danny walks off, and Luis hollers, "Es mi caso!" Oh, I have a dolor de la cabeza.
Danny walks and gives more backstory, the upshot of which is that Greg went to work for the McCoy family business, and was the son that Danny should have been. As he's feeling sorry for himself, Mary comes hauling ass around the corner, asking, "Is it true?" You can tell she already knows the answer. Danny finally shakes off his lethargy and goes to head Mary off at the pass. Mr. Sobell perks up for the first time since we began watching Las Vegas. This is because Mr. Sobell considers himself a private first class in the Nikki Cox Army. Danny's already caught Mary, but Mr. Sobell says to me, "I didn't find that believable. Run that scene with her running again." So I rewind on the TiVo, and we watch Mary run again. "Again! This time, she should run past Danny. And toward me and my open arms," Mr. Sobell suggests. He goes on to suggest other ways in which Mary can deal with her grief -- running in place, and putting on a leotard and jumping rope are among them -- but that's not what happens onscreen. We get the first genuinely engaging scene in the episode when Mary tries to fight her way out of Danny's arms, insisting, "I have to see him!" while Danny tries to comfort her. Gosh, these two have excellent chemistry together. The coroner wheels off the body while Danny rocks Mary gently.
We go to commercials -- Law & Whatever -- and then we're back at the wave pool surfing competition, which is now taking place at night under the approving eye of the bikini-clad "Miss Desert Surfer." I had no idea NBC Sports would be so interested, but there the banners are. Back at the hotel, Danny and Mary are walking through a side entrance, hand-in-hand. She looks terrible, but kisses his hand and wanders off. Danny takes off in a different direction. We flash by a table where the Yokel family has just hit it big, and then -- oh, zounds, make it go away -- Arthur's back, waving around the sword and bellowing, "Toooo arrrms!" Have I already mentioned how his metal ass belongs down at the Excalibur? Have I already pointed out that casino security probably isn't so hot on swords? I have? Then all that's left is to tell you what happens: Arthur runs around some more while Big Ed glowers. Oh, where are Morgause and Mordred when you need them? Displaying an uncanny sense of timing, Danny comes up just then and asks Big Ed for time off. Big Ed replies, "If it's about your friend, take all the time you need." How did Big Ed find out? Did Luis call him up and say, "Hey, I'm a friend of Danny's, and I know you're his jefe, and our friend, he duerme con los pescados, so if Danny can have some time off..." Or is Big Ed just omnipotent? Big Ed makes the time off conditional: try not to make it about revenge.
Just then Mrs. Big Ed -- or Nimue, as Batty Arthur might refer to her -- rushes up and makes it Big Ed's problem that she can't get tickets to the new King Arthur show. Rather than tell her to take it down the street to the Excalibur, where Arthur will cut her some roast beef in the buffet line, Big Ed stammers in outrage. Apparently, the Arthur character has "an unbelievable mental health résumé, which is why you don't want to be near him when he's doing Richard III." Heh. That's funny. Anyway, Mrs. Big Ed whines some more, and Danny rescues the situation with, "I could have Mary get you some tickets." Wouldn't Big Ed have reached that resolution on his own?
Oh, sweet Jesus, just when this scene couldn't get any more excruciating, here come the Yokels. They want Big Ed to arrange a picture of them with Crazy Arthur in front of the Luxor. I know!
After Big Ed disentangles himself from that problem, Sam beckons. The senator needs something. I personally think he needs someone to help him get dressed, but that's not what he's complaining about. This time, his accent really is scarily close to Senator Tankerbell's; he's irritated about the reporter finding him at the strip club. "How did he find me?" the senator wonders. "He's a reporter. You come to this town every month, you play the same casino, and you go to the same strip club. You couple that with the amount of time you spend in the media crusading against the sins of the world, a blind man could find you," Big Ed states flatly. It might also help the blind man that these two guys are having this conversation in the middle of the casino floor. That's not the first place I'd think of when "discreet" is the watchword, you know? Also -- how on Earth is the senator managing to fit in frequent Vegas trips with the media blitz, the book authorship, and the rigors of the office? Anyway, the senator bitches about his guarantee of privacy at the casino and then threatens to drag Big Ed's name through the mud regarding a covert operation. How funny that someone who works for the government should be thinking about leaking classified information as an intimidation tactic. I can't imagine who on earth thinks that blowing CIA information all over the media can possibly be a good idea. As the two men talk, Sam tells Danny how very much she hates the senator. "It's gonna be a long weekend," she adds. Fortunately, if her screen time is anything to go by, she won't be around for much of it.
Yippee skippy, Arthur comes back. Rather than send him off to go stand in front of the Luxor, Danny passively listens as Arthur says, "Launcelot, I fear no good will come of Merlin's connection with this evil sorcerer." Insights like this are why Arthur's the king. Just then, Nessa drifts by to remind everyone she's in this show too, and Arthur's off like a shot. Just don't mention adultery, and nobody will start any wars.
Big Ed comes over and Danny asks, "So! Everything okay with the senator?" Big Ed gives him a look that plainly says, "What do you think, sunshine?" but he replies, "Everything's fine." Danny then demonstrates why "discretion" is not his middle name by asking, "Ed, is there something you're not telling me about Senator Henderson?" Ed glares at him some more, as if to silently say, "I cannot believe a chucklehead like you is supposed to be my right-hand man and newest family member."
And then the episode takes another turn for the worse: Delinda appears. It turns out Big Ed has summoned her. Big Ed says, "Danny got some pretty bad news about a friend of his, and I don't think he should be alone." Is it just me, or is that really creepy? Delinda reacts with her usual...well, I can't really use the word "react," because that would imply involvement in the world around her. Delinda just drags Danny off while he VOs that Ed might be trying to get rid of him. She's all, "We'll go someplace we can talk."
That location would seem to be Greg's trailer on the McCoy construction site. Delinda monotones, "This wasn't exactly what I had in mind," and Danny replies in an equally dull voice, "Greg lived in that trailer. He was my dad's night watchman." These two on screen have anti-chemistry. It's just...to make a long and painful four-minute story short: they're here because Danny thinks it would be a good idea to haul Big Ed's daughter around while he explicitly defies the "don't use this time off to go avenging anyone," and he wants to solve Greg's murder despite his amigo the policeman telling him not to. Delinda pokes through Greg's stuff while Danny figures out that Tyler O'Reilly is the loan shark who lent Greg money. Since Tyler hangs out in front of the Monte Carlo, he must not be a very good loan shark; you'd think the good ones could hang out in someplace air-conditioned. Anyway, the hangout is really just an excuse for Danny to cruise on down the Strip with Delinda. She asks, "Shouldn't you go to the police with this?" Well, yes. Danny says nothing. Delinda asks robotically, "You don't want to talk about this, do you?" Danny confirms this, and she boots the subprogram "let's talk about something else." Danny brings up Big Ed's sordid past, and pushes Delinda for any background information. "I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," she quips. "Promise?" Danny replies. Oh, he does not either. Just then, across four lanes of traffic, Danny sees Tyler O'Reilly. Tyler happens to catch sight of him too. Amazing eyesight!
So then Danny decides to leap out of the running car -- one presumes he throws it in park first, since it doesn't immediately lurch into the car in front of it -- answer Delinda's flat "Danny. What's. Wrong." by explaining that it's Tyler O'Reilly, and then go chasing across the Strip after Tyler. This is so boneheaded, on so many levels.
Naturally, a foot chase ensues. I'm baffled as to why the loan shark goons don't join in the follies, but whatever. Crowds are ducked, beggars are disrupted, women with strollers are rudely jarred. The only cliché that's missing is a pair of workmen transporting a large sheet of glass directly across the path of the runners. Eventually, Danny catches Tyler. That's when Luis decides to make his appearance and tell Danny that the coppers have got it all under control now. Oh, whatever. I can't bring myself to care about stupid Danny.
Commercials. Hey! It's West Wing. I'd like it a lot more if the characters walked into the Oval Office and Eric Close was sitting there, explaining, "Yeah, I got hit by a Metro this morning, so my brain's now in this hot, hot body. You got any questions, feel free to toss them Dennis Haysbert's way. And ignore that bug-eyed guy in the corner carrying on about nuclear weapons in L.A. Haysbert brought him along." It would be the greatest collision of TV shows ever!
Once we're back, Mike the valet is working his automotive voodoo. Danny's pulling in -- I guess he dropped Delinda off already -- and Mike comes over to give him a manly one-armed hug of condolence. Apparently, Las Vegas lives for Danny McCoy gossip, because "word's all over you went to town on O'Reilly on the Strip last night. It's about time somebody took down his punk ass." Luis has pulled in too, and he lets Danny know that...well, Greg's murder will go unsolved for now. This means we can revisit it! Yay!
Danny heads inside the casino, where the privacy-loving senator is busy playing the slot machines -- he's into the casino for $3.5 million from slots? -- and groping assorted French maids. As he walks on by, he sees Nessa dressed for an afternoon at the polo grounds, and waylays her before she's carried off by an electroplated lunatic. Danny asks, "How long have you known Big Ed?" Nessa tells him, "Since I was a kid. Why?" Danny pries, "What can you tell me about him?" Nessa, who is no dummy despite her unfortunate tolerance for Arthur, asks, "What do you want to know?" Danny asks, "Does he have any secrets?" Nessa points out that everyone has secrets. Danny realizes that Nessa's not spilling anything. She reminds him that she's still waiting for him to show her Vegas. Oh, I can't bring myself to care.
Having failed to get any information out of the women in Big Ed's life, Danny's decided to just head into Big Ed's office and check out what's on his computer. It's a profile of the good senator. Big Ed comes in, and Danny stammers, "This isn't what you think it is. It's porn. With your daughter in it." Or something to that effect. Big Ed moves around to the opposite site of the desk so that the senator's continuing slot follies are playing behind him. He changes the subject, asking, "Why didn't you tell me about your friend Greg's problem, Danny? You know, I might have been able to help." Danny answers quickly, "Problems like that aren't supposed to happen in Vegas. Natives are supposed to know better." He sits down and admits, "And I guess I thought I was protecting him." Big Ed's familiar with that idea. For some reason, it prompts him to begin spilling his guts: "In the early nineties, I was in charge of this covert operation. We were somewhere we...didn't belong." Hmmm. Did this place rhyme with "attack"? Big Ed continues, "Some bad stuff happened. Some really bad stuff." Before we can get too into this bonding session, Big Ed gets an alert, because the reporter's back, he's apparently managed to bring in recording devices, and he's busy taunting the senator with the odd question, "Senator, what do you think of the budget cuts?" Wouldn't "Senator, how do you square this with your moral majority campaign?" be more to the point? Anyway, Sam goes after the reporter while the senator takes protective cover behind a flock of floozies.
Big Ed and Danny engage in a big chase -- or try to, since the tiresome Arthur is back. Mary jumps in, trying to inject a little reality, but since she doesn't even rate a mention in his personal mythology, it's not working. Big Ed has to say, "I have your medical records. I need you to get a hold of yourself and just stop all these disturbances. Keep it on the stage." This apparently rattles Arthur. He wanders off muttering, "All hope is lost." Naturally, that's when the senator comes up for another one of those ill-located talks about discretion. By running around with his hand over his face, glaring suspiciously, he's only attracting more attention. Ass.
And then there's a tiresome security sequence, because apparently a reporter who can't grasp the concept of private property, much less frame a relevant interview question, is canny enough to elude all the casino's security measures. The team finally finds him around the surfing competition, where he will presumably elbow aside the poor loser who's working the event for NBC Sports and upload his footage instead.
The surfers are oblivious to this. Danny walks on by the makeshift boardwalk, a passel of women coos over him for a moment, and then he moves on, looking for Walker the reporter. We see Arthur walking disconsolately along the top of the wave pool. The tiny, openly evil part of my brain begins chanting, "Jump, jump, jump!" Walker skulks on over, presumably so he can use the equipment. He connects his camera to the computer via USB or FireWire cable while Arthur slouches at the top of the pool. Danny's bikini posse tries to alert him to this, but he shakes them off in favor of nicking Walker. Danny catches Walker as his computer is displaying a helpful and completely laughable message about data uploading.
Big Ed watches Danny apprehend Walker from the security office. In the back, a conveniently-placed TV shows Senator Henderson blaming the liberal left for debauchery. You know, I realize they're trying to set up the senator as a huge hypocrite because he's flogging a book on morals while acting like a total pig in Vegas, but I'm not buying. His message seems to be that television and music are contributing to America's moral decay; direct hypocrisy would be discovering that he's a huge Real World fan and he only buys albums that have parental advisory stickers on them. The gambling and whatnot aren't necessarily indicative of firm moral fiber, but unless he's broadening his message to include all sorts of immoral behavior, it's not exactly hypocritical. However, Big Ed disagrees with me.
He goes on down to the room where Danny's holding Walker, and tells Danny to give Walker his camera -- and all his film -- and let him go. There's a nice moment where Danny appears to put everything on the table, and then Big Ed looks at him. Danny says, "What?" Big Ed emphasizes, "Everything," and Danny reluctantly drops the last memory stick. As Walker scampers off, Danny warns, "Ed, if this gets out..." Ed's okay with that.
And we go to commercial. I'm okay with that. Hey, look, it's Third Watch! Do people actually watch that? Even without Bobby Cannavale as an incentive?
When we get back, Walker is still scampering off. Back in the office, Danny's all, "I just don't get it. Why did you let him go?" Big Ed says, "I will fight no more forever." Danny replies, "Chief Joseph, October 5, 1877." Big Ed says tiredly, "There are some secrets that shouldn't remain secrets." I'm still hung up on that particular quote. The final two sentences read: "My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever." Maybe that's an allusion to the covert CIA operation? Maybe Ed's saying he's too tired to play security guard anymore? Maybe the writer didn't even bother to think about whether Nez Percé Chief Joseph -- who pulled off a hell of a military feat by outmaneuvering the U.S. Army over roughly 1,000 miles before finally surrendering for the good of his remaining people -- was the appropriate parallel for Big Ed in this case. In any event, Big Ed's made up his mind.
Just then, a disembodied voice reports, "We have some problem in the wave pool. There are no waves." Danny heads down to look at it. As the closed-captioning plays "Heartbreak Hotel" -- but not the actual episode -- Mary heads through a crowd of bored surfers, grabs a mike, and tells everyone in a panicky voice not to worry. That goes over as well as can be expected. Mary then grabs a repairman, who tells her that not only can they not diagnose the problem, the person who can is in L.A. and won't be here for a few hours. Wait a minute -- NBC Sports is televising this nonsense, and the Montecito didn't think to have a repairman on hand in event of emergency? They can put up the Yokels over a pickpocketing incident, but they can't pony up to lodge a wave pool guy all weekend? This show makes no sense.
Meanwhile, Big Ed's getting an earful from the senator, who has traded his tacky shirts for his DC drag. The senator's so pissed, he's inventing accents from regions that may not exist. And using them all at once. Apparently, some newspaper editors -- not reporters, since it's not like they'd be on the beat or anything -- are calling to ask about the senator's slot-machine play. I'm still trying to figure out how he's $3.5 million in the hole for slots. Is he playing the thousand-dollar slots? The senator shouts, "Whayut the heyull's gawn on heah? Do yew know wot this wull dew to meyuh? To mayuh caree-uh?" As he shouts, he jams his wedding ring back on. Oh, heh. Big Ed allows as to how he might have a pretty good idea. The senator snarls, "Waahl, Ah dewnt cahr whut yew hahve tew dew. Yooo stop this!" Big Ed leans forward and quietly says, "But I can't. And more importantly, I won't." Oh, Big Ed. Why can't the show be all about you? And Mary, "having adventures together, trying on new shirts," adds Mr. Sobell. Anyway, the senator is having a little problem with "no means no." Big Ed clarifies: "It's over." The senator threatens, "You'll be licky if they leyut you pick up taryush in the pocking lot whan Ah'm threeew with you. Ah wull disstraw you, Ed!" Ed replies, "I guess we'll just have to go down together then, eh, buddy?" The senator's finger is still dangling in mid-air, looking considerably less menacing. He begins bargaining: "Mah mahkah for mah silence theyun." Big Ed leans forward; one gets the impression he's kind of amused by this. The senator demands, "You tear uhp mah three-and-a-half-million dollah mahkah end mah losses from this wikend, and Ah won't talk!" Big Ed finally rounds the desk and leans down to tell the good senator, "Screw you." The senator looks like he's not sure whether he wants to kiss Big Ed or kill him. The senator then tries arguing on grounds of moral relativity. Big Ed is still relatively undisturbed. The senator makes the boo-boo-kitty face -- this is when you try to look scary and pissed off, but end up looking petulant and childish -- and demands, "Then git me mah cah and mah playun! Ah'm leavin'!" Big Ed's all, "Fine. But this time you're going to go out the front door. Tell you what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna call the valet. He's gonna put you in a real nice cab. I'm going to take you to the airport and put you in a real big commercial airline. Oh. Look at this. Dammit. You missed the last flight. I guess you'll have to leave first thing in the morning. Checkout is 11 AM. Sharp."
Back in wacky plot, Mary's standing in the shallow end of the pool. She spies Arthur walking by and groans, "Please don't tell me this is happening." Arthur's all, "A damsel in distress." Danny's rolled up his pant legs so he can wade out to hang with her. The closed-captioning reads, "Great first week on the job," while Mary's line is, "I can't believe this is happening." Danny assures her that everything will be fine. Mary replies, "I'll be lucky if they let me finish the day." Boy, did they dub in her lines later or what? Guess they were still working the bugs out of the "Whoops! Not a hooker!" development. Just then, Arthur cries, "Excalibur, I call upon your power!" and goes to retrieve the sword he threw in there in the first place. So he's not really rescuing a damsel in distress so much as he is fixing his crass mistake. In any event, Arthur pulls the sword out of the wave-making deal, and emerges holding the sword aloft. The waves begin again. Tragically, Arthur and his heavy chain mail do not sink to the bottom of the pool and foul up the works again. Instead, Arthur surfs to show. Oh, Elvis, save me from this kind of plot. Supreme storylines are derived from internal logic and some knowledge of Ars Poetica, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony.
In the A-plot, Big Ed is watching reporters talk about Senator Henderson's perceived hypocrisy with glee. You know, it's worth pointing out that gambling isn't morally degenerate. That is, after all, how the disciples picked out the replacement for Judas -- by casting lots. Anyway, the senator is getting smacked around for running around on his wife with a variety of young women. Big Ed merely watches the coverage, confident in the knowledge that sex scandals have greater longevity and disproportionate outrage relative to other, more complicated calumny.
Outside at the valet station, Mike is seeing the Yokels off. They're snapping pictures of everything -- including Mike -- and behaving like asses. Naturally, they recognize the senator as he skulks out of the casino. Never mind that the odds of the average American recognizing their senator are low; the odds of two people who think that Las Vegas is the center of the cultural universe...I can't do that kind of math. And yes, they got their damn picture in front of the Luxor with Arthur. Now let us never speak of them again.
Inside the security office, Danny's fretting on Big Ed's behalf. Big Ed calmly points out, "I'm not the news. He is."
And then, it's a wake -- Vegas style! We see an urn to a big poster of someone who was presumably Greg, and then we see the entire cast gathered in a Happy Hour wake. This is how Melrose Place does memorial services. At least Mary looks bummed. She's coordinating McCoy's toast ("To Greg! To Las Vegas! To the gambling that killed him!" -- well, not that last part) and just looking bereaved. Everyone else looks like they're at the office Christmas party. Eventually, Danny picks up the urn, grabs Mary's hand, and quietly leaves. We then see them driving in twilight -- this is after an establishing shot where it's night, so who knows whether the car drove back in time, or if it's sunrise, or what -- and then they open the urn and release Greg's sequined sparkly ashes to the skies. Too bad for any other convertible drivers on the road at the time!
That's it for Episode Two. Let us hope the only direction we go from here is up.