A Free Agent

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It's called Alias, not Ford Focus's Alias

Syd runs out onto the tarmac, and some gun-toting dude shows up so that the two of them can reenact the scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark where Indy tries to beat up that big bald Nazi in front of a whirring propeller. And in case you were wondering, yeah, it's all Jenny Garner, all the time, in this fight sequence. Oh, and yeah, the gun-toting dude bites it by winging into the propeller and getting sliced to itsy bits, just like the big bald Nazi. Ew. Nice reference, writers. I love that movie. Raiders is my number one favorite movie of all time. At last count, I believe I've seen it thirty-two times since it was first released. Because I'm a geek. And I'm going to die alone.

Dixon's Dark Porch Of Pain. It's raining, and Dix is drowning his sorrows in a fine aged whiskey. A car pulls up, and Mrs. Dix gets out and steps onto the porch. She is NOT pleased. She sits down, and Dix asks where she stayed last night. She's all, on a space station, dude. What do YOU care? Then she mentions the time Dix was shot and he told her he'd been mugged. "If you had died that night," she says, "I would have buried a stranger! Look, I don't know if a single word you've ever said to me is true!" Dix looks at her with tears in his eyes, his face etched in pain. "My love for you is true," he says, struggling with emotion. "My love for our children is true. As a husband, as a father..." He starts to cry. "I couldn't honestly say I was protecting my family unless I was out there!" Mrs. Dix is all, yeah, but see, you were actually working for the people who were fucking up the world, not saving it! Dix is all, but I didn't know that! And I'll never lie to you again! The CIA offered me a job. This time for real! Mrs. Dix is all, okay, I did NOT sign up for a life of wondering which day my husband's going to bite it in the field. You take that job, you take it alone. She enters the house; Dix remains on the porch, staring out at the rain.

Seriously. Lumbly? Award-winning, dudes. And Mrs. Dix kicks ass too.

Sloane's Secret Lair Of Longitudes And Attitudes. Slater's stressing out. You can tell because he puts his glasses down in a huff. Sloane's all, does your stress level indicate that you'll help us? Slater breathes heavily and demands that they let his family go or he won't help them at all. Sloane's not fond of this plan, and shows it by whipping out the little recorder and playing a pleading message from Wife of Slater. She begs her husband to help Satan Sloane or the kid gets it. Slater freaks for a moment, then pulls it together. He's all, okay, so you want me to put this thing together? These pieces exist? Sloane's all, pretty much. You're soaking in it. Slater's all, all righty then. Want some more technobabble? Good. Here it is. "According to this," he says, referring to the document before him, "each artifact is generating its own unique magnetic field. These fields determine where in the overall design the pieces go. The problem is, there's no room for error in the calculations and the equipment you gave me isn't sensitive enough for me to measure the fields with perfect accuracy. I need something I don't have!" Sloane calmly mentions something called the "magnetometer." Okay, that just sounds made up. It's like "boobinator" or "assifier" or "dickitron." Really. But it must be real to THEM, because as soon as Sloane mentions it, Slater's all, whuh? How do you know about that? Sloane's all, I know lots of things, Sparky. For instance, I know you used to do lots of drugs in the early nineties because, really, you'd have to be on tons of drugs in order to agree to star in a movie as stupid as Kuffs. ["I saw that movie IN THE THEATER. I know. But Tony Goldwyn is hot." -- Sars]

Slater's all, yeah, well, the magnetometer could handle this gig, but it's locked up somewhere in Switzerland in some basement, and Kuffs sounded like a good idea at the time! Sloane's all, yeah, it's in the basement of this bank that's, like, two miles from here. Slater's all, the hell? We're in Switzerland? Dude. Can you nab me some chocolate? And a watch? And some cheese? Sloane's all, by tomorrow, you'll have what you need. Slater just stares at him as he leaves.

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