24
Day 2: 1:00 AM – 2:00 AM

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Gustave: C | Grade It Now!
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What a riot!

Electric blue Kiefer. Electric blue Spawn. Electric blue Palmer. A whole new hour of 24 starts now. 24. Series of beeps that sound like a fax machine is going into cardiac arrest. Previouslys. Everyone in the Palmer administration wants to go to war now. They're all sporting huge hard-ons -- even Rolaide -- and rubbing them in Palmer's face, trying to get him as aroused as they are. It's like a date rape. Palmer led them on by declaring war and now he's changed his mind. What a cocktease! We paid for dinner, bought him a corsage and everything. Spawn's latest adventure, involving escaping from being held hostage in a liquor/convenience store, is so lame, but fortunately it's almost over. Lesbo-Carrie tells Soul Patch that Bitchelle has been helping Kiefer out on the sly. Soul Patch questions Bitchelle, and they monitor her activities, which means that it's now Lesbo-Carrie's job to stare at Bitchelle all day, as opposed to before when it was just a compulsive hobby. The Seventh Coral Snake wants Cate, and he makes Kiefer bring him to her so he can get out of the country in one of her company jets. PoorMan'sArmandAssante is now on the SideOfKiefer. Kiefer, SCS, PMAA, and Cate get shot at.

The following takes place between 1:00 AM and 2:00 AM. The gunfight between Kiefer, SeventhCoralSnake, and PoorMan'sArmandAssante is still going on, and I really like that they're opening this episode in medias res. It feels more like true "real time" when they do that. Snipers are exiting surrounding buildings by fire escape and coming in from both sides of the alley as Kiefer, PoorMan'sArmandAssante, and SeventhCoralSnake crouch behind the car and attempt to fend the snipers off with return gun fire. "Give me the keys," blares the trumpet that is Kiefer's velvety voice in SCS's direction. SCS throws his car keys at Kiefer, and Kiefer goes back to the trunk and gets Cate out while PMAA covers him. They all run back to the safety of the warehouse. Inside the warehouse, whose interior has the look of that damp place where they imprisoned the kids in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, Kiefer asks SCS who their attackers are. SCS assumes that it's the shady oilmen who hired him and now want him dead, making a second attempt on his life. Meanwhile, back out in the parking lot, PMAA goes into the trunk of the Kiefmobile and grabs an entire arsenal of bad-ass automatic weapons. He calls Kiefer on his cell and tells him that there are three men down and at least three still out there, but he has no idea what their location is so he intends to find a better vantage point. Kiefer tells him to stand by and await further instructions once he finds that vantage point. SCS wants to get the hell out of there, and asks Kiefer why they can't just get into the Kiefmobile and do exactly that. Kiefer replies that they don't really know how many snipers are out there or where they are. He starts to call Bitchelle back at CTU to get him Whatever Technology location information about the snipers, but SCS makes this weird Mickey-Rooney-on-crack face and makes Kiefer put away his phone. He doesn't want CTU involved. He dangles proof of the Cypress tapes forgery in Kiefer's face once more and tells him he won't get what he needs unless they do things SCS's way. And what SCS wants to do is to get the hell out of there pronto. So then Cate appears, gets in Kiefer's face, and asks him who these people are who are shooting at them. The look on Cate's face is priceless. She looks so self-righteously offended by the snipers.

During my junior year of college, I spent a lot of time in my friend Marnie's room; she happened to live in the only all-women dorm on campus. Anyway, the hallway where Marnie's room was had this problem. The bathroom they all shared kept getting attacked by someone they had all nicknamed "the fecal phantom." Every week or so, someone would go into one of the bathroom stalls and find a "present" lying on the toilet seat. Marnie and I became obsessed with the question of who was the fecal phantom. Was it the gracefully bony foreign exchange student from India? Was it the Goth chick who never left her room or spoke to anyone on her floor? Was it the anorexic TA? The angry dyke with the lazy eye who was the editor-in-chief of Womynspeak? Or was it, God forbid, the three-hundred-pound black woman who ran the gospel choir? Or the always perfectly coiffed southern belle with the boyfriend at the Citadel? Or the really really perky classics major from New Hampshire who wore nylons under her jeans? Or was it an outside job? But why would this outsider be targeting this one hallway specifically? It was like living out an English murder mystery…sort of. Marnie and I would talk about this endlessly. We looked up psych journal articles about fecal-philia and tried to profile everyone in the hall. We made complicated charts on poster board compiling information such as all of the suspects' schedules and the times the presents had been found. We were able to eliminate various suspects, including all of the boyfriends of the girls in the hallway. We ourselves had been eliminated as suspects early on because we were away at a swim meet one weekend when the phantom struck pretty hard. So Marnie became the girl everyone ran to tell about the latest visit, because she was the only one brave enough to push the deposit into the toilet with a fistful of paper towels and then wipe the seat down with Fantastik, thereby restoring peace and order to the hallway. So every week Marnie and I would invariably be in her room when one of the women would run in and announce the discovery of a present from the phantom, and no matter who ran in, they all had the exact same squishy, confused expression on their faces. "Omigod, there's another turd on the toilet seat! Can you believe it?"

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