Now we're inside the party. A lady addresses the well-dressed throng, thanking them for attending, and congratulating E-Com Con for being "the most technologically advanced yet socially conscious company on the Fortune 500." A man scoffs, "Yeah, right," and the crowd looks around. Wonder who said it? The lady continues prattling, saying that E-CC is developing a new age of computer technology and customer service, and the heckler guy (who is that guy?) scoffs again, "How 'bout a new age of violating your customer's privacy?" I think they call that marketing, now. The lady laughs and is like, sir, are you sure you should be here? The crowd parts slightly to reveal the heckler as Langly, duh, who puts his empty glass down and grabs a chicken skewer in one neat motion and starts berating the lady for answers about the Octium IV chip E-CC is developing. She "heh heh"s and says it's something new. Langly is all, "It's secretly designed to keep tabs on the users!" Oh no! I don't know about you, but I don't get paranoid when I go to the grocery store. "Forget everything I bought today!" is something I never think of when I stop shopping. But that's just me.
We cut to Byers monkeying with his laptop and hooking Frohike to some kind of trapeze/marionette thing. Byers says they're in position. Ooh, kinky.
Gesticulating wildly with his chicken skewer, Langly continues to harass the lady for being the spokesperson for the corporation that dares to build software that keeps track of where the user went online, and what they bought, "and their tax bracket, and their social security numbers! All neatly packaged for these robber barons." The lady helplessly interjects. Langly's earpiece chirps with Byers telling him to shut up already. Langly brandishes his chicken skewer one more time before asking, "Was there peanuts in this?" and taking a digger. The crowd gasps and crowds around as if someone dropped a hundred-dollar bill. Security staff get up from their console and rush over, and we close in on one screen to see Frohike in his black catsuit descending into a white room, all Mission Impossible-y to steal...a computer chip. Cue the ersatz Moby, because we have action sequence, if you can call one dude typing on a laptop and the other dangling above a motherboard "action." Steady...steaaaady...oh yeah, this is tension. A woman in drag...I mean, "an ominous bearded man" sees Frohike on the screen, turns to a nearby computer, and starts tapping. Frohike starts zooming around like a member of N'Sync, and Byers says he's lost winch control because their software was hijacked. Zounds!
Back on the floor, the security guards jam a pen between Langly's teeth and tell him help is on the way. They then see his earpiece and get wise to him. Oh, snap.
Frohike goes up and down, bangs his head on the table, then sees, upside down, the bearded lady coming toward him. S/He opens the door, steps on the alarm system, and plants one on Frohike. They kiss. For six seconds. I don't see any tongue. When she pulls away, he says, "You." S/He pushes him aside, takes the chip, and spins him around so that he does several somersaults. As s/he stalks off, s/he neatly sidesteps the security goons hauling Langly away, and heads into the men's restroom. S/He makes it look so easy.
The security goons come into the room, look into Frohike's inscrutable face, and ask him where the chip is. He says nothing. Byers peers down from above, like some deadpan puppet-master. Honor among hackers prohibits them from blurting out, "That sexy cross-dresser has your evil chip! Get s/him!" The goon intones, "Full-body cavity search." We all saw that on the promos, didn't we?
And, from the men's room emerges -- oh, gasp, shock, good thing I'm sitting down because I sure didn't see this one coming -- a sexy, raven-haired, full-lipped, mini-skirted lady. Wow, twisty. She tucks her men's outfit into the trash, looks poutily into the camera, and sashays away. And that's our teaser.
The Lone Gunmen return home to their bunker and make cracks about being anally probed to protect the constitution. Or something like that. Langly says, "We've got to stop the corporate goons from doing to the American people what they did to us last night!" Please tell me they took you out to a movie and some drinks, and then put you into a cab and said goodnight, because I can't think of corporations as doing anything else! Please! Byers grunts and says that, since they don't have proof (the chip), all they can be is "nothing more than conspiracy-mongers." Aww. Byers cries some more about having put out their newspaper for eleven years, and wondering whether America is a better place to live because of their efforts. Is it? The chip, and the story about E-Com Con, "would have garnered national attention," and now they have nothing. Langly says they can still speculate and editorialize. Byers points out that their circulation is 2,284, and that the people reading already care. ["A lot more people than that care about our recaps, dude." -- Wing Chun] Langly says, "The people at the CIA tremble every time we put out one of these babies," and holds up a paper, the headline of which is "TELETUBBIES = MIND CONTROL." Hee. Byers asks whether the people at E-CC are trembling. Langly says that they have the Justice Department searching for the chip, and Frohike says, "Only they're looking for a 'he.'" Could it be? Yes it could. The "dude" is Yves Adele Harlowe, and Frohike is sure: "No guy kisses like that. I mean, uh..." We get it. Langly calls Yves a "black hat," into "industrial espionage, strictly for profit." But how? Frohike does a sweep, finds the bug that Yves planted; Langly tosses it in some old coffee and declares "total war! Salt the earth!" The phone rings. Byers answers, "Lone Gunmen Newspaper Group." We zoom in on his inscrutable expression. "Yes, I'm his son."
We come back to wee a red VW bug -- an original bug, not those new monstrosities, damn them -- being crushed. I think TLG should go after Volkswagen and even Chrysler for making those goddam ugly faux-old cars. Okay, guys? Thanks. Byers and Frohike talk about Byers's murdered dad within, like, five feet of the orange-hatted supervisor. I guess they aren't that paranoid. So, they're at a car wrecking facility, they want to get Byers' dad's '92 Caprice, it's over there, but oh no! It's being wrecked as they speak! Byers and Frohike run and yell -- Frohike even takes a huge digger right in the mud -- but whoops, that isn't the car they want anyway. That car has already been crushed. Dang, isn't that always the way?
Shooting range. Blam, blam, et cetera. Langly comes up on some geek named Kimmy, who's taking out simulated Vikings. Langly comments that it isn't sporting of her. Comedy rarely is. Langly asks for help infiltrating the D.O.D.'s mainframe. Why? On that subject, he's mum. Kimmy says, "Go put your daisy down someone else's rifle, hippie. Is this another one of your conspiracy theories -- like who shot J.R?" Heh. But this is serious! Oh, okay. Some very loud, non-simulated blam-blams arouse the two geeks' attention. It's a babe. A babe with guns. Cue the drool-filled leering -- except...could it be? Of course it is. Yves Harlow. Langly gangles over and is all like, give us back our chip, man! She's like, chip? She's British, too. Chip, wot? Oo-er, I don't loike the sound of that! Langly is like, that Octium 1V is ours! Kimmy is like, you got an Octium IV? What a geek. Yves is like, "What were you going to do, give it to 60 Minutes? Expose the truth in your silly little rag?" She makes air quotes around "expose the truth," but all unsyncopated and weird-like. It's probably because she's British; they can never do that right. Colonize? yes. Make air-quotes? No. Kimmy and Langly make an ungraceful exit, and Yves picks up her guns again. Blam.
Frohike is going through Byers's dad's crushed Caprice. Of course, they find the little chip that's been inserted into the car so that it could be driven by remote control. Accompanied by sad music -- a piano, an oboe -- Frohike gently harangues Byers for going on this search mission to "make peace" with his dead dad; the Mulder comparisons are impossible to miss, as people on our boards have already pointed out. Still, it's sad to think of Byers suffering stoically and going on this goose chase for no good reason. Whoops, did I give it away?
Kimmy has infiltrated the D.O.D.'s mainframe: "My old granny could hack this site." Sure, but could she beat up Byers's dad? Sorry, that was mean. Langly is rocking a Ramones shirt and wants to find out more about the war game scenario they found on Byers's dad's PC. Frohike and Byers come in with the death-car chip-thing and learn Yves was at the shooting range. Kimmy hilariously congratulates himself: "Yes! I am the king! Mm-MM." He found the war game scenarios. Geek.
The one they're interested in is an airline terrorism war game. They attempt to download it and get snagged, but cue the faux-Moby again -- we have a non-action sequence. Again. Byers is all like, "Keep downloading." Kimmy is like, "We should ditch!" and someone in the Government's House of Files is all locking in on their location. Langly has sweat on his lip! Downloading at the speed of plant growth, they're almost caught when Frohike pulls the plug. Byers is like, "My father died for that file!" Frohike is like, "Exactly -- use you head."
Back in the Government's House of Files, a geek lackey says, "Sorry sir. Lost 'em." Mr. Helm says he knows who they are. Ooh, a double agent! Gasp.
5:48 AM. Byers is poring over the car-crash chip. Why orchestrate a car crash when you're starting with an already-dead body? Maybe the blood at the house wasn't his dad's blood.
TLG go to the crash scene. Just as they hunker down to look for, oh, I don't know, stuff, Mr. Helms screeches up. Byers offers up the crash chip and tells him everything they know: Byers's dad wasn't murdered, and is in fact still alive. The blood in the house is from the would-be assassin, who slipped on the freshly-washed rug -- just like Frohike did -- and shot himself. Pratfall, therein lies thy sting. Forget about broken hips; those things are fatal. But still funny. So, Byers's dad strapped the dead assassin into this car and crashed it, knowing that if people wanted him dead so bad, he had better fake it and go into hiding. But why? Because of Scenario 12-D, but they still don't know exactly what that is. To help them hack in, Mr. Helm gives them his password -- "overlord," which is not at all foreboding, whew. Byers stalks off, and Langly is like, "Why is he so bummed? His dad's alive!" Frohike points out Byers may never see him again. Dude, they've been estranged for twelve years already. I'm just sayin'.
Byers is going through his dad's office. He finds a stack of Lone Gunmen newspapers, smiles faintly, and then...MacGuffin! Byers's dad walks in. He's alive! Byers is all like, Dad! And runs over happily. Dad cracks him a good one across the face. Byers takes a staggering step back. "Leave me buried," rasps Dad. Byers asks what Scenario 12-D is. Dad says it's about a fake domestic terrorist attempt, concocted to stimulate the sagging arms market. "The Cold War is over, but bring down a 727 in the middle of New York City and there'll be a dozen tin-pot dictators just clamoring to take responsibility, and begging to be smart-bombed." The plan is supposed to go down tonight. Byers is crushed; he can't believe it. "Why didn't you tell the world this? Tell the press?" Who'd run it? asks Dad. "We would," says Byers. Dad insults The Lone Gunmen, calling it "bird-cage liner." Technically, so is the Wall Street Journal, or any other newspaper. Fishwrap, you know. Then Dad calls it "wild-eyed crap." Ooh, burn. Dad says he's trying to do something: "You stay out of it. I don't want Overlord gunning for you, too." Oh, crap.