Oh, my God, Becky! Look at her butt. It is so big.
Las Vegas likes big butts and it cannot lie / You other networks can deny / that when a girl lies there in an itty-bitty suit / the ratings go up, right up through the roof.
Or at least that's what NBC hopes now that Skin is on FOX and the people who are too cheap to pay for nudity on cable will be trying to decide who gets their penny-pinching, prurient attentions. Joan Jett's "Do You Wanna Touch?" plays as we see a row of callipygian lovelies getting hosed down by the Montecito poolside staff. Then it's on to gratuitous tit shots. Then another shot of people lying on their stomachs as frumpy little poolside attendants water their asses. The rows are so perfect, the watering so careful, I can only come to one conclusion: the Montecito is growing these tushies for harvest. You know, Laura Ingalls Wilder never mentioned the booty crop in any of her homespun pioneer memoirs. Why has this proud chapter of our nation's agrarian heritage not been documented before Las Vegas came along?
Anyway, there's some more flesh flaunted and it's all very boring after a while. We get a shot of a man passed out on a lounge chair with his little yellow bikini riding up. It's worth noting that the woman behind him really doesn't need a bikini so much as she needs an industrial back brace and an appointment with a good plastic surgeon.
On and on the flesh parade drags, and over time, we see people leaving the beach, no doubt to put on something equally obvious and therefore unalluring in a deluded attempt at convincing others that they're sexy 24/7. Also, with Joan Jett screaming instructions as to what to touch where, I'm all cued to expect leather and bad-assed attitude, as opposed to pneumatic vapidity. Cognitive dissonance doesn't really rev the engines, you know?
Anyway, the sun goes down, and the guy in the banana-colored banana sling is still one with the chaise lounge. As the nocturnal beach party commences, Danny VOs, "Groundhog Summer. For everyone else, summer's over after Labor Day, but in Vegas, we get an extra six weeks." Good news for anyone with a lot of white shoes, I guess. Danny continues in the world's most rushed VO, "And on that last weekend before we close all the pools for the season, Vegas throws the biggest pool party of the year." It's also filled with the lamest dancers of the year. When I was in middle school, back when the Brat Pack ruled supreme and pin-striped jeans roamed the hallways unchecked, we'd go to school dances and the more kinesthetically backward among us would do this weird head-bob thing combined with a sort of shuffle and hip-throw movement. It was like watching a marionette trying to do the lambada. Now imagine that multiplied by 200 and shrink-wrapped in synthetic fabric; there's your "biggest pool party of the year." Motivated to skip the FOX flesh-peddlers yet?
Danny continues, "This year, Groundhog Summer happens to fall during the sci-fi convention. These people really freak me out." Well, the guy behind you is saying the same thing, only in Klingon. I kid! Las Vegas would have to pay a lot of money to someone to bust out the Klingon; all the skiffy freaks wandering about the hotel look like they were dressed by someone who got fired from Andromeda for making their alien costumes look too fake. Also, so long as I'm nitpicking: what casino worth its nickel slots would let anyone with elaborate masks or costumes anywhere near the gaming areas? Isn't anyone concerned that someone might be using their costume to hide sophisticated cheating equipment? Should I just give up applying my primitive Earth logic to this situation now?
I do. Nessa's giving the stink-eye to a bunch aliens that narrowly miss ripping off the creepies in M. Night Shyamalan's Signs. Danny ignores her, since she only has to, you know, be in every fourth episode and there are three more to go. He then walks over to a craps table, where some guy has blown on his dice to impart that Matrix-like slow-motion tossing. The dice take a magical journey that includes accumulating force over the gradual deceleration, all the better to leap off the table and into some random blonde's accommodating cleavage. Excuse me while I get distracted wondering how this is physically possible. Where is the extra force coming from? Anyway, dice in the babe's cleavage. She fishes it out and counts slowly, her lips moving, and says, "This is a five." It's worth noting that despite the dice-catching properties of her dress, the blonde is still much better dressed than the average schmuck hanging around any gaming table in Vegas. No fanny pack for her! Anyway, the five is apparently good news, and the guy at the other end of the table goes nuts requesting those same dice. He gets them, and barely manages to roll them for all the well-dressed women hanging off his arm like so many sequined limpets.
The camera moves away before we all get too excited, and we stop at a blackjack table where a slumping man is sitting with shiny silver-painted "aliens" on either side. The dealer tells the guy to try not to pass out on the table; Nessa comes over to tell him that he needs to keep his hands off the table and the other players. The drunk guy slurs that he's only trying to help his friends win. Nessa gets icy and says, "That's very thoughtful, but all life forms need to play their own hands." The drunk guy seems to be okay with that. He then does a face-plant in an alien's lap; while we hear him slur, "Maybe I'll have sex with an alien," the closed-captioning reads, "May the odds be with you." And the fear that Skywalker Ranch will be dispatching a cadre of attack lawyers armed with light sabers, apparently. Nessa rolls her eyes, then goes over to call security and tell them they have another con attendee passed out. Meanwhile, Danny -- who may or may not actually work in security -- wanders on by her without stopping.
He ends up parking it at a table where a gaggle of bikini-clad women are busy watching craps. I have to admit that I just don't get the allure of watching other people gamble. Even the vicarious thrills elude me; I end up swallowing the urge to lean over and say, "If you're dying to get rid of this money for no good reason, then give it to me." Anyway, Danny politely gets their attention, and one of the girls giggles, "It's not my birthday, but I'll take the present." Let's not get carried away here -- Danny's cute, but he's no Ben (sigh) Browder. Speaking of which: if there's a sci-fi convention going on, why are there no men running around in leather pants carrying big guns? Can't the TV gods throw me one small bone? For God's sack, even Home Movies managed to work in a Farscape reference when they did their "oh, check out the silly sci-fi convention geeks" episode a few months ago. Anyway, Danny busts the little girls for being on the casino floor and underage, gives them a figurative slap on the wrist ("I want you guys to enjoy yourselves. Enjoy the hotel, the fine dining, the dnce clubs and the pool. But I don't want to catch you in the gaming area or the bars again."), and fends off another clumsy advance from the girls.
Danny's cell rings. Is it Nessa, finally getting through to security about that guy passed out in the alien's crotch? Why, no. It's Delinda. She's at a club, swaying while she makes a face and gasps, "Help me." Delinda, there is no help for you. Danny's all, "Where are you?" since Delinda and brainless club music go together like E and water bottles. Delinda only replies, "Help me," as she slides down a pillar. With her pink sweater, her ratty ponytail, and her hilarious swooning, Delinda looks like she's auditioning for Grease III: Son of Zuko. Delinda makes some more owie faces, and as Danny asks what's going on, a black-clad guy swoops in and smarms, "You look like you could use some air." And some acting chops too, but unless this guy is the second coming of Lee Strasberg, I don't see that happening. Danny hears the guy tell Delinda, "Let's go to my place." Smooth move, guy. Danny keeps saying, "Delinda, talk to me."
Elvis, on the other hand, would prefer a little conversation. Not that we're assuming Delinda's capable of conducting any sort of lively parlor talk.
And now it's commercial time. Hey, everyone! Martin Donovan was on Law and Order: SVU. Oh, Martin. You'll always be the guy who carries a hand grenade "just in case" to me.
When we're back from commercial, we see Danny pacing around a hospital. (Eh, let's call it Desert Palms Hospital and have done with it; I like the idea of my fictional Las Vegas worlds having common landmarks.) Big Ed comes barreling on in. We establish that someone drugged Delinda and she doesn't remember a thing. The two men walk toward Delinda's room looking all militant and business-like. Unfortunately, they're blocked at the door by a woman who presumably works there. It would be kind of odd if she was just a random stranger who happened to wander into hospitals and keep people away from patients. Anyway, Dr. Exposition tells Big Ed, "The last two who came in like this were raped." And they know Delinda was not because...? Also, is that the kind of thing you tell people? In any event, Delinda has bruises on her knuckles, so she fought to defend her virtue. That must have been a first. Big Ed asks Dr. Exposition if she checked under Delinda's fingernails. Dr. Exposition asks if Big Ed's a cop; Big Ed replies that he's the father. That's apparently good enough for Dr. Exposition: "There was skin under her nails. We'll turn it over to the cops for testing." Wouldn't that have already happened? Then again, we have no idea how Delinda got to the hospital. Maybe law enforcement and other city services that might pass on news of a would-be assault victim weren't involved. Anyway, Big Ed tells Dr. Exposition, "You're not turning anything over to the police." Dr. Exposition protests that Delinda not having any memory of the attack makes it hard for anyone to pin down the perp, but our friend the chromosome can narrow things down. Ed is not impressed by her heathen science. The law be damned, he's taking the skin samples.
But first, he has to see the unconscious Delinda. It's the most convincing acting Molly Sims has done to date. Big Ed eventually says, "Hi, sweetie." Delinda awakes. Big Ed checks her out; only James Caan can pull off a look that balances paternal concern against homicidal rage. He takes Delinda's hand, composes himself, then asks, "What happened?" Delinda doesn't remember anything. She begins crying; Big Ed just stares at their linked hands and looks stricken. He also looks like he's about to kill someone, but mostly, it's him looking upset for Delinda. Big Ed eventually pulls it together and assures Delinda that everything's going to be okay. Delinda sobs that she feels so stupid. Big Ed passes up the cheap shots to tell her not to: "Why? You didn't do anything wrong, honey. You hear me? You didn't do one thing wrong." More crying. More paternal concern. Big Ed's on the verge of losing it, so he's going to bolt and let Mrs. Big Ed do damage control from here on out. He gives her a smooch, assures her he'll be back, and heads out to the lobby.
Big Ed is all business with the waiting Danny; he wants him to check all the security tapes in the club. Now, would this be the club that Delinda opened last week that Danny and Big Ed didn't know about until they were turned away the door? Or is this a completely different club? Big Ed further charges Danny, "You find that son of a bitch, and you bring him to me." Danny's all, "Shouldn't we...huh? Cops? Wha?" and Big Ed repeats, "You find that son of a bitch, and you bring him to me." Okay, then.
And after that intense scene, who wouldn't want to unwind with a wacky subplot? Mike opens a cab door, and three nerds from Central Casting tumble out. They tell Mike they're from MIT ("MIT, baby!" the shortest one crows) and the shortest one tells Mike that they're there for the engineering conference. Mike seems to find this odd; he asks skeptically, "Really?" Apparently so. Mike then asks if the guys need help with their array of bags, and the thin blond one assures Mike that they don't. That denial would carry more weight if the guy wasn't slowly toppling backwards from the weight of his bags. Mike offers again, and the Asian geek snaps that they've got everything. Yeah, there's nothing suspicious about their behavior at all. Mike watches them lurch off and says sarcastically, "Have a great stay, MIT students." Then he turns around in time to see Danny coming out with a posse of aliens. Danny's all, "How you doin', Mikey? Those aliens got you freaked out?" Mike deadpans, "No. They probably escaped from Area 51, but who'd notice? Keep your eye on those three." He points to the MIT students staggering under their bags. Danny wants to know why. Mike says, "They told me they were here for the engineering convention." Danny's all, "So?" Mike points out that the engineering convention was last week. Wouldn't Danny know that? Even if the Montecito didn't host the convention, it would seem that security would be up on the bigger events in town. Oh, wait -- this is Danny we're talking about. Danny wonders if maybe the guys didn't get their dates screwed up; Mike more or less tells him that anyone at MIT is likely to be able to read a calendar, or create a killer robot servant who does. Danny prods Mike for more expository talk, and Mike points out that the Bonehead Gunmen wouldn't let anyone near their bags, and those bags seemed a little heavy. Danny promises to keep an eyes on those guys provided Mike keeps his ears open for anyone who's selling IDs to underage kids. There's some back-and-forth about Delinda that more or less amounts to, "Ah, serial rape. What can you do? Good thing Big Ed took the evidence so the cops can't catch the guy," and this scene grinds to a halt.
Danny then checks in with the club. The owner is looking at this from a business perspective -- if it gets out that the dance floor is roofie central, he's looking at a smaller take that month. Once again, we establish that Delinda's okay. We also establish that Danny is walking off with the surveillance tape, as opposed to, say, law enforcement, who might also take an interest in someone drugging and raping women. I love how Danny and Big Ed have no problem swooping on in and absconding with evidence because it's Delinda who nearly got raped; too bad Victims One and Two also didn't have friends in high places.
Cut to Danny looking blank over something. I should just program that as a macro now. He sees the stoplight, and we do some zippy-dippy camera work, and then Danny is in the Department of Traffic. There's some boring VO setting up Danny going over to talk to a lovely TV version of Halle Berry. Danny then delivers a line that makes us wonder if he shouldn't be maybe taking a few test runs with the underage set before trying to approach adults: "Excuse me, miss. I thought that traffic control's job was to stop gridlock, not cause it." The woman correctly calls it: "Cheesy line, Danny." Danny's all, "Do I know you?" The woman says, "I hope so. We were in the shower together." Danny hunkers down and gets all flirtatious with, "I think I would have remembered taking a shower with you." The woman says, "It's me, Danny -- Kyle." Danny leaps back, practically scrubbing himself to get the Crying Game cooties off. Then he gets all uncool, bellowing, "Kyle? Kyle Jackson from baseball?" And now the Halle Berry resemblance gets even funnier when you think about how David Justice would have conducted himself in this conversation. Kyle makes a little catwoman gesture and says, "It's Kitty, now." She gets up and shows a gaping Danny the goods before checking something in a file cabinet. Danny comes over to gape at Kitty's giant fake breasts. Kitty sees the shock on his face and says, "Maybe we should talk."
Cut to them outside in leafy, downtown Las Vegas. Kitty asks how long it's been; Danny does not shoot back, "Long enough for you to get sex-reassignment surgery." He's too much in shock. Kitty goes to get some coffee, and many, many men ogle. Danny looks like he's going to vomit. There's some small talk -- apparently, at age 18, Kitty-who-was-Kyle was going to go train with the Yankees. The David Justice jokes are just writing themselves at this point. Anyway, Danny looks at the implants and blurts, "Don't they hurt?" Kitty tells him they're quite enjoyable. There's some more back-and-forth, and as the two of them walk out of this scene, Danny tells Kitty he needs a favor. She responds that she'll do anything for an old baseball buddy.
Back at Spocktoberfest, a bunch of people in alien garb are gambling. Mary's looking around, trying to remember if she's actually in this episode. Short answer: no. Danny comes over, and they have a little chat about Kyle-who-is-now-Kitty. Naturally, Mary knew this. I can't believe she didn't pass this on to Danny at some point. I think she withholds information to be spiteful, with the "everybody knows, Danny" comments. Danny points out reasonably enough that he didn't know, and Mary shoots back, "There's a lot you don't know." She softens the blow by inviting Danny to breakfast, but he tells her he doesn't have time, adding, "We're looking for a guy who's out there drugging women. So tell all your friends, and be careful." Especially since the police have no leads, what with the Montecito sitting on them all. I do wonder if this episode was shot back when Mary was supposed to be a hooker.
Hey, do y'all remember that guy on the lounge chair with the yellow banana sling? Someone in the security room bellows that someone should go check on him; another anonymous extra shoots back, "I already did. He's asleep." Big Ed and Danny couldn't care less. They're too busy watching Delinda on the security footage as she "casually" moves through the crowd. As she sits with her back to the bar (and her drink), Big Ed catches the would-be rapist drugging her drink. He then brings a small part of the screen into miraculous zoom-in focus so we can see what's inscribed on the tablets El Rapisto dropped into Delinda's beverage. Danny identifies it: "Flunitrazepam." Or, as the DEA likes to call it, "rohypnol." Big Ed calls up a page on it so we can see that it's also known as "Mexican Valium," which seems kind of odd given that it's a sedative. It's also illegal in the States. Big Ed watches the guy drift off, and mutters, "Bastard." We see Delinda grab her drink and clutch the straw as she sips, ponytail swinging as if she's going to put down her malted and begin sock-hopping. Big Ed asks Danny to move the footage ahead. We see Delinda stagger across the dance floor and slide down the pillar like she took cues from Olivia Newton John's performance in "Hopelessly Devoted To You." Danny and Big Ed watch El Rapisto attempt to pry Delinda off her good friend the pillar. Conveniently enough, El Rapisto is positioned so that none of the security cameras can get a good shot of his face. You'd think that security personnel would have already figured out how to amend this glaring flaw in their coverage. Big Ed asks irritably, "Who the heck put in the surveillance cameras in this joint?" Shouldn't he know the answer to that? At least in theory?
Anyway, Danny points out that El Rapisto was wearing El Rug, and is therefore unidentifiable. Big Ed throws a tantrum about going into the club and redoing all the security. It might be cheaper just to hire a portable goon squad to surround Delinda as she runs around. After all, it's not like Big Ed is peeved because some poor girl got drugged and nearly raped; he's peeved because it's his daughter who came to harm. Big Ed continues to rail about the security as Danny patches in the traffic control tape he got from Kitty. This isn't exactly legal. Big Ed at least has the presence of mind to send everyone else out of the room first, and then Danny cues the tape. We see El Rapisto hauling Delinda across the parking lot; Ed mutters some more epithets. Then Danny zooms in on El Rapisto's car and its license plate (Nevada 23Q-PR9). We see Delinda's ponytail leading her out of the car. She soon follows. El Rapisto actually stops the car and chases her around the side. Not that I'm all about offering pointers to would-be abductors, but wouldn't it have been more efficient for him to head back to the trunk of the car and meet her as she staggers that way? El Rapisto attempts to grab Delinda, and she busts some Kill Bill-style martial arts moves, hair swinging in one direction as she high-kicks in another. Call me a skeptic, but I have a hard time believing Delinda has enough discipline to actually study any martial arts. Maybe she's really doing tae-bo and El Rapisto just happens to be in the way. Big Ed watches Delinda punch away and mutters, "That's my girl." Delinda finishes kicking the shit out of El Rapisto, and Big Ed asks to go to another tape, lest we actually see one of the gaping plot holes -- i.e., the one that swallowed the answer to the question, "Who found Delinda and how did she get to the hospital?" Anyway, Danny loads another tape, and we get a thin slice of El Rapisto in profile. Big Ed gives the screen one of his psycho stares. El Rapisto is a dead man walking.
However, right now, El Rapisto is only a bruised man walking. We see him and his big black eye wandering around the Montecito's poolside area, which only confirms that he's something of a gold-plated idiot, since he should have moved on to other casinos before getting caught. Of course, if he's just sticking to the Montecito, I'm curious as to why security was okay with two women getting drugged on its premises prior to their rape, but only rushes to the rescue when the judgment-impaired Delinda falls prey. El Rapisto puts on some sunglasses and buttons a shirt over his scratched chest before prowling for Victim #4. Women flee him anyway. El Rapisto eventually notices Sam sitting in a chair reading a romance novel titled Seven Seas. I can't confirm this, but it looks like the cover has been doctored so it's Danny wearing a puffy pirate shirt and either Sam or Mary as the woman clasped to his half-naked chest. Hee! El Rapisto saunters on over to Sam, who's reading away. He's got two roofies in his hot little hand. We go to commercial as El Rapisto nods happily.
Commercial time! You know, relentlessly promoting Will and Grace doesn't make me like it any more than if NBC didn't promote it at all. Also, does James Earl Jones really need the money that badly? Can't he meet with George Lucas and get the go-ahead to start some sort of Dial-a-Vader service instead? It would be more dignified.
In any event, lots of breastacular women are popping out of the pool as if they were coached by the louts in beer commercials. We see a few of the Spocktoberfest attendees in the pool wearing their latex masks and gloves. Frankly, that looks pretty suspicious too -- no face and no fingerprints. In any event, that poor young woman who's going to have the back trouble is still sitting to the guy in the banana sling, who's still asleep. More women cavort in the pool. One peels off her top, and we see the body-painted legend, "See? We peddle as much flesh as Skin does! Stay here! Staaay heeeerrree!" Oh, not really. But this entire scene might as well do that.
Anyway, Sam's put down her potboiler and is now staring at her phone. El Rapisto sits down. She ignores him. The music advises, "Keep Your Ear To The Ground." Oh, that's not at all obvious. Banana Sling continues to sun his tuchis as people drop sand in his drink. Sam sits up with her book in hand and says, "I think I've had enough sun for today." El Rapisto says, "Something I said?" It's worth noting that this is not at all what the closed-captioning says:
El Rapisto: Where are you going?
Sam: Shut up.
One of these days, Las Vegas may actually shoot an episode where they're not mashing in dubbed dialogue at the last minute. El Rapisto hands over Sam's doctored water -- you can see the pills fizzing away -- and tells her, "You forgot your water." Sam mumbles thanks and wanders off as El Rapisto feebly calls, "Maybe we'll hook up later." Oh, you can cut the dramatic tension with a dull spoon. Sam mutters, "A lot later." Like, when the crackling sound beneath your feet indicates that the winter Olympics will include a speed-skating event set on the Stygian lake, with the ireful sinners acting as impromptu obstacles frozen in place. Sam and her doped water wander off, pills still fizzing dramatically, and then she tosses the water in the trash. Hee! I could see it coming, but it was still funny. El Rapisto storms off. Thwarted again!
Back in the security office, the facial recognition software is attempting to make a match without any success. Big Ed and Danny conclude that, inept water-bottle hijinks aside, this guy's a pro, since he's smart enough to set up an alias and scout his locations. Danny adds, "He scouted Delinda's club before he hit it. He knew where every camera was located." Well, no wonder the security was so lousy -- this was the same club whose very existence took Big Ed and Danny by surprise in the last episode. Danny asks Big Ed if it's a good idea to keep the cops out of this; Big Ed just looks at him and changes the topic to the MIT guys. We see them sitting in a bar; one has a laptop, one has a scientific calculator, and the third has what appears to be schematics. Oh, that's not going to make security curious at all. Big Ed decides it's time for a maid to wander into the guys' room while they're out at the bar. This way she can leave the door open, and security can "happen" to wander on by.
Then Big Ed returns to the topic of El Rapisto. Since Delinda kicked the crap out of him, he'll be easy to spot: just look for the pill-toting guy with the black eyes. Danny realizes that El Rapisto will be wearing sunglasses. Then they're back at the MIT room. The maid opens it and nearly staggers back when confronted by an array of coaxial cables, sleek laptops (they look like the 17" PowerBooks, but I'm not sure), and other computer paraphernalia. "They are...pigs," the maid concludes, horrified.
In the security office, everyone's got their eyes on a big, big picture of the sleeping Banana Sling. Danny volunteers Mike to identify the array of electronics in the MIT guys' room. Oh, that'll be fun. Anyway, Big Ed's ping-ponged back to his favorite topic: "I want you to put word out on the street. Everyone keep their eyes open for some rat bastard with sunglasses." Danny points out that a lot of people wear sunglasses in sunny Las Vegas; Big Ed counters that this guy will be wearing them everywhere. As Danny leaves, Big Yenta Ed tells him to stop by and see Delinda. Danny tells Big Ed he'll stop by Delinda's club after he talks to Mike.
Cut to Danny collaring Mike to identify all that computer equipment. Mike's all, "I knew those MIT boys were up to something!" Simmer down, Beavis. Danny passes on the request to find anyone wearing sunglasses at night, so he can, so he can keep track of El Rapisto in the clubs. Sorry. I had myself a Corey Hart moment there. Anyway, Mary pops up just in time for Danny to tell her, "I need you to talk to all your old friends. Tell them we're looking for someone wearing sunglasses at night." Mary has her Corey Hart moment, but gets over it. And -- her "old" friends? So did Mary go to hooker summer camp or something? Is that how they're going to get away with having Mary know hookers without being one herself?
Anyway, Danny stops by to see Delinda at the club. It's every bit as dull as you might expect. When Delinda tells us she doesn't remember a thing, Molly Sims really sells the line by looking appropriately blank. Perhaps she'll become less irritating on this show if she wanders around every episode in a mental fog. In any event, Delinda warns Danny of the obvious (Big Ed has murder in his heart) and tells him to make sure that doesn't happen. Then she gets all shmoopy for a moment and tells him that she remembers calling Danny for help. Oh, whatever. We should just start off each episode with a big Wheel of Fortune-type wheel, have Danny give it a spin, and see which Las Vegas female regular the arrow lands on that week.
After that little exchange, Danny and Mike catch up in the hall. Mike rattles off a Fry's inventory list and adds that the MIT boys have power schematics for every hotel on the strip. Danny asks what the guys can do with all that; Mike points out, "Override the electronic security for every hotel, co-opting each system with their own." You'd think Danny could've come to that conclusion on his own, you know? Mike adds that, "Depending on their software -- which I'm sure is state-of-the-art -- they can re-rig odds on every electronic game in the casino." What's more, these guys can do all that stealthily, so long as they can tap into the power grid. My God, it's Real Genius II: Val Kilmer's Getting Desperate for Cash.
Danny walks off, head spinning from Mike's news, and his cell phone rings. It's Shaquille O'Neil, telling him to eat at Burger King. Oh, it is not. It's just someone who looks like Shaquille, who's a bouncer at Club Vertigo, alerting Danny to El Rapisto's presence at his club. Damn -- for quick communication, there's Instant Messaging and Instant Marying. Anyway, Rio the bouncer (his name is Rio, and his sheer bulk compresses sand into glass when he walks. There ain't no river capable of doing that, dusty land or no) shoots Danny some photos of El Rapisto, which Big Ed throws up on screen. There's no match to the guy on the face-recognition software. Big Ed looks frustrated.
Down on the casino floor, Sam is hovering by a silver-haired gent playing craps, which makes me suspect she may actually be doing her job for a change. Danny wanders on by and grabs Sam by the arm. She ribs him about Kitty -- what, is Mary now running a listserv where she sends out the "Guess What Danny Didn't Know?" message of the day? Best line of that exchange: "So you're a little freaky-deaky, huh?" I'd say that's the entry-level requirement for Club Delinda. Speaking of Delinda, Sam speculates that Danny may have been too much of a superfreak for her, hence the dumpage, and Danny tersely lies, "She didn't dump me." Sam does ask how Delinda is, and Danny points out that she's fine. The two talk about Groundhog Summer and how it brings out the freaks. Sam carps about "this guy today who would not leave me alone. He was trying to hide his two black eyes behind sunglasses." Danny starts paying attention again, and sends Sam up to talk to Big Ed. Big Ed gives the order to pull all pool footage from Sam's afternoon sunning time. Meanwhile, Danny is explaining to Sam that she may have run into El Rapisto, so she needs to point the guy out. Before Sam can reply, the college gaggle descends upon him again. Sam smirks as Danny asks, "Didn't I take away all your fake IDs yesterday?"
The one who's clearly doting on Danny goes all Lolita on him and drawls, "We just wanted to invite you to this." Sam takes the proffered flyer and gasps in mock-surprise, "A raaaaaaave! Wow, remember the nineties?" Ooh, that's an opening anyone can drive a truck through. Lolita replies, "What. Ever. Every hot girl in Vegas will be there." Emphasis on the girl, no doubt. Sam watches the Clearasil crew wander off and says, "Ouch?" Danny says absently, "Not really," then realizes that a rave would be the El Rapisto equivalent of a sample sale.
We transition from the stylized building number on the flyer to the actual building itself. Danny, Mike, Big Ed, and Delinda get out of a giant SUV. Oh, that won't tip off El Rapisto at all. Big Ed points out a surprising number of people wearing sunglasses; Delinda can't identify any of them. Big Ed drags everyone else to the front of the crowd. The callow young bouncer says, "A little old for a rave, don't you think, Pops?" Big Ed promptly brings him to his knees. At the entrance, El Rapisto lowers his sunglasses to look at the spectacle, and grins. Delinda shouts, "That's him!" Everyone looks for El Rapisto inside the rave. Yeah, good luck with that. Danny notices, "It's a beach party! Everyone's wearing sunglasses!" El Rapisto is crafty!
Commercial time. I've just seen all of the Average Joe I plan on seeing.
It's presumably the day. Once again, the sleeping Banana Sling is beset by evildoers. This time, they want his sunglasses. El Rapisto actually returns to the pool in the same outfit he was wearing the day before. I take back the crafty comment: El Rapisto is an idiot. He checks out the token guys in silly alien masks and looks at the assorted women.
Inside the casino, Big Ed is telling someone on other end that he loves them, but Danny's here, so he's taking off. Danny drops off the DNA results from the skin under Delinda's fingernails. He asks Big Ed, "It takes three weeks for Metro to get those results. How did you --?" Big Ed looks up and says nothing. Danny shuts it. There's no positive ID, and the guy's not in the database. Danny says, "The guy knows we're onto him. Let's just get the cops involved already." Yes. Because the police will love knowing that a victim's father took off with all the useful evidence, then drove the available leads into the ground. They'd love to help after that. Big Ed says, "Listen good. If this guy spots one cop, he's going under, and we'll never catch him. And I'm not going to lose this guy, Danny." What's with the "me, me, me" attitude? But since it's Danny who got Mary to tell everyone about El Rapisto, it's Danny who's covering the airports, roadways, and transit. Danny's all, "The point is, even with this town covered, this guy could have left last night. Hell, if I were him, I would have left." Hey! We've finally found the one person Danny could outthink in a tricky situation. We all know El Rapisto is down by the pool.
Anyway, Big Ed says, "Danny, you are not him. Look, when you went with my daughter, it pissed me off some of the time. Okay, it pissed me off most of the time. But the truth is, I never, never thought for one minute that you would hurt her, or any other woman. This guy -- this creep -- enjoys hurting women. He enjoys it. I got a pattern here. Look at this. We got DNA matches from San Diego, L.A. and Palm Springs." Danny notes that Groundhog Summer is the last stop of the season. That must be why El Rapisto is here. Danny wants to bring the cops in. Ed rises and hollers, "If you mention it again, once more, I'm going to pull your tongue out and mail it to your father!" Well, at least the postage is local; it'll be cheap. Anyway, Danny is cowed by this threat. Danny paces around before reasoning, "Okay. He can't show his face, and we're already on to the wig and the sunglasses. What about alien makeup?" Big Ed concedes that Danny has a point there. We learn that Club Mystique is hosting Spocktoberfest's final Blastoff Bash that night -- a mere four hours from now. There's some dickering, but Danny's going to see if he can find the guy.
Cut to Sam directing two black-faced, hooded aliens to swim-up blackjack and limbo contests. As the guys head off making deep grunts that are clearly supposed to be some sort of wacky made-up language, Sam turns around and tells Danny through clenched teeth, "Only two more days before we stop being some $2 billion summer camp." She then asks what's up with El Rapisto, and Danny's all, "Look, can we not talk about me for a moment?" Fortunately, a gaping Mike is there to distract everyone. He tells Danny there's something in the bushes Danny needs to see. The two of them wander off as yet another alien type wanders up to Sam, space lust in his beady eyes.
Back at the pool, we have only a few seconds for gratuitous, please-don't-switch-the-channel-to-FOX T&A before zooming in on the three geeks and their mighty aluminum notebooks squatting in the foliage. Danny comes over and introduces himself as the Bonehead Gunmen slam their computers shut. The Asian geek tries to blow Danny off with a smirk, but Danny's not taking the hint: "May I ask what you're doing in the bushes?" "Pruning," Peewee Geek calls out. His companion snickers. Danny stops playing nice and yanks the cord supplying their computers with power.
Cut to Danny facing the Bonehead Gunmen in the interrogation room while the Asian geek snots, "Among my many degrees is one in law, and I know that sitting in the bushes outside a Las Vegas hotel does not constitute a crime." Tall Geek nods vehemently. Danny looks up at him and points out that between all the maps they have and the computer equipment they're hauling, that's a lot of props, and it would be fun to see how the geeks improv with them once the Department of Homeland Security shock troops descend upon them. Peewee Geek wants an attorney. What, his friend pacing around won't do? Danny replies calmly, "That'd be good. That'd be real good. Because the second you ask for an attorney, the cops have to stop questioning you. The thing is, I'm not a cop, so I can turn you over directly to the Department of Justice, where John Ashcroft will serenade you with such big hits as 'Bill of Rights? You Must Have Imagined That' and then hold you up to sixty days without access to a lawyer thanks to the Patriot Act." The Bonehead Gunmen look taken aback. Danny whips out a cell phone and promises, "Guantanamo, here you come." The Bonehead Gunmen finally agree to talk. It turns out that they lost face in a competition during the engineering convention -- apparently CalTech spanked them and sent them home to their mamas, and in a desperate attempt to recoup cred, they had planned on hacking the Strip signage to read, "MIT rules, CalTech sucks!" Meanwhile, students at Case Western and RPI just chuckle and go back to quietly plotting to take over some day when the MIT folks are really distracted. The Bonehead Gunmen are all, "If we pull this off, they're going to play this on MSNBC, CNC -- NBC!" Yeah, but if you play it on MSNBC, nobody will see it.
Just then, Big Ed calls down to Danny and bemoans the incompetence of their facial recognition software. Danny hangs up, and the Bonehead Gunmen reveal that when they're not courting profoundly mediocre cable-news broadcasts, they're busy writing state-of-the-art facial recognition software. Danny's a little torqued that the Bonehead Gunmen were tapping his phone, but then realizes he can use them to his advantage.
Cut to Danny escorting the geeks into the middle of the security complex. Big Ed comes over and asks who these guys are; Danny replies that they're software experts. Big Ed leans over to the Asian and says with barely-contained irritation, "Excuse me." The Asian geek replies, "Do you mind?" Big Ed replies, "Do I mind what?" The Asian grins, "I'm tapping into your system." Big Ed points out that the room is secured and he has a jamming system; Peewee Geek points out that those measures work only if you're outside the room. Once you're in, an g-card and a password generator is all you need. Big Ed is all, "Damn our AirPort Extreme networks!" The geeks quickly hack into the security system. Big Ed pulls Danny aside to ask if he didn't just introduce the same people who were trying to rip off the casino; Danny explains that it's not like that. The geeks all apparently have PhDs in "high-speed data matching." Oh, please. I'd guess it's more like PhDs in computation science, and if they're into facial recognition software, probably biometrics. Big Ed comments, "But they're the Three Stooges." CalTech viewers begin chortling around this point, I'm sure. Anyway, Danny points out that these guys are running a crazy number of computational calculations per second (technically speaking, any computer runs a staggering array of calculations, but...whatever), and these geeks are helping out. Big Ed asks, "And why, again, exactly, is it they're trying to help us?" Danny says he made a little deal, and Big Ed is better off not knowing the details. Big Ed threatens, "If they screw up, I'm going to take your corpse and beat them with it." Heh.
The Bonehead Gunmen announce that the guy's not there. Danny scrambles for footing, eventually identifying four cameras in Mystique that might be the ones where El Rapisto will be. Sure enough, they find someone in an elaborate mask -- an "Alien Commander from Troilus Six." No doubt his counterpart from Cressida Seven will be along shortly. Asian Geek says, "Don't tell me you guys haven't seen the Priamus trilogy." Big Ed is caught short, since Troilus undoubtedly triggered all these Trojan war references and now he's got nowhere to lay them down. Anyway, we find a match between Troilus Six guy and El Rapisto, and the Bonehead Gunmen happily sing the Alien Commander song. It's remarkably free of references to Ovid.
Big Ed and Danny repair to Mystique, and spend a few tense moments figuring out which Alien Commander is El Rapisto. Fortunately, they'll have the commercial break to do so.
Once we're back from the break, Danny and Big Ed get the idea to go through one Alien Commander one at time. As Danny's asking guys to pull off masks, one Alien Commander cold-cocks him, then makes a break for it. Big Ed eventually interrupts his flight with a well-placed chair to the groin. After a few minutes of fisticuffs, Big Ed backs El Rapisto into an elevator. The guy squeals, "I want a lawyer!" "I am your lawyer," snarls Big Ed. Danny follows, yelping, "What are you going to do with him?" Big Ed turns around and says, "I've got a nice little spot in the desert." Danny shouts, "You can't do this!" Big Ed turns around again and says, "You're with me, or you're not. I was kind of hoping that you were with me." Danny folds like laundry.
Cut to the three men in a humvee as it streaks out of Las Vegas. Hey, everyone, it's a Lance Burton poster! He's the one performer in Las Vegas I have no desire whatsoever to see. Danny pleads with Big Ed to think about what he's doing. Big Ed replies, "I have thought about it, Danny. Call your girlfriend in traffic control and have her shut down all the cameras." Ah, so Big Ed's a subscriber to Mary's "Guess What Danny Doesn't Know?" daily newsletter. Danny calls Kitty, who shuts down the cameras. El Rapisto nervously asks where he's going. Danny doesn't answer, because he's too busy whining at Big Ed not to do anything.
After a lot of driving, all of which is shown in fast-motion, we end up in the middle of a sun-baked stretch of hard desert. Big Ed gets out of the humvee and directs El Rapisto to get out. El Rapisto says no, so Big Ed pulls him out by the scruff of the neck and drags him away from the car. Danny continues his useless mewling. Big Ed kicks El Rapisto in the kidneys a few times for good measure, then orders, "Take off your clothes." Danny whines, "Ed, you can't do this!" Well, Danny, he can and he is. El Rapisto gasps that he didn't do anything, and won't Big Ed be in trouble when the cops find out. Big Ed replies, "What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas." Oh, please. He pulls out a gun and says, "Time to get shovels, Danny." Danny, who's standing well away from Big Ed and the slowly stripping El Rapisto, shouts that he's not digging anyone's grave. That's okay; El Rapisto will just use his hands. Big Ed likes the symbolic implication. El Rapisto protests that he can't, because the ground's too hard. Big Ed doesn't care: "Dig." El Rapisto begs, "Please stop. Please stop." Big Ed leans down and asks, "What?" "Please don't," El Rapisto asks hoarsely. Big Ed replies, "Did 'please don't' work when my daughter said it? Or any of the others? Did it work? I didn't think so. Just say goodbye, dirtbag."
This is the point where Danny screams, "No, no, no, nooooooo!" You know, in keeping with the theme here, Danny should have finished with, "KHAN!" Big Ed shoots -- the gun is empty. Danny stalks off toward the humvee; El Rapisto relaxes around the same time his bladder does.
Big Ed asks, "You didn't actually think I was gonna kill him, did you?" "Um. Maybe," Danny says. "I was just screaming, 'cause I thought it was improv. I thought it would be more...realistic. Yes, that's it." Oh, he does not. And then the cops show up. How convenient!
The show ends with the camera zooming back down that desert road, back toward a Strip festooned with "MIT Rules! CalTech sucks!" signs. We eventually stop at the pool, where Danny blathers about how Vegas takes care of its own. We get one last series of shots meant to offer positive reinforcement to anyone who didn't switch to Skin, and then we see Banana Sling awaken as if from a dream and walk his wedgie'd self down to the pool with only a slight sunburn.