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Ding Dong, Mrs. Dixon's Dead

Just then, Syd discovers some weird stuff on the phone bill. Namely, that there were three calls made from the same number to Slater's house over the last year, they came four months apart, and they were all made on a Monday night at exactly the same time. "And they all lasted one minute," she concludes. Vaughn's all, "Where did the calls come from?" Before Syd can answer his question, we're whisked off to Slater Estates.

"I need to talk to you," says Syd. Wife of Slater's like, is it my husband? Syd's like, uh, no, I believe I just said that I need to talk to you, not your stupid husband. Pay attention. Syd says that the CIA traced the mysterious phone number to a reporter named Gregory Ivanov. "Does that name mean anything to you?" Wife of Slater's all, uh, no. I mean, other than it's a totally generic Russian name that sounds like one of the KGB bad guys in White Nights. Syd blah-blahs about how this Ivanov dude is one of those guys who gives cover to Russian intelligence agents, and that an hour ago he received a fax from an unnamed source. Wife of Slater's all, yeah, that's interesting and everything? But, like, what's it got to do with me and my disappeared hubby? Syd's all, good question! We think your delightful significant other is Russian SVR, sweetheart. Wife of Slater's all, ooooh! That doesn't sound good. What'd the fax say? "A single Russian word," says Syd. "'Razvyaska.' It means 'endgame.'"

Suddenly, Wife of Slater turns away from Syd and starts crying and shaking. Damn. Tracy Middendorf's doing a really nice job here. She turns back around and informs Syd that her hubby's going to die. Syd's all, hey there! Don't jump to conclusions! Wife of Slater's all, uh, no, he's going to bite it. Trust me. How do I know? Why, that would be because I'm the SVR, honey, not my husband.

Wife of Slater, who shall heretofore be referred to as Spy Wife, goes on to say that she didn't want to be hypnotized because she was afraid the CIA would find out that she's a dirty Russian spy. (I'd like to state for the record that I personally have nothing against Russia, or Russians. I think it's a lovely country inhabited by lovely people. That being said, "dirty Russian spy" is just funnier than plain "Russian spy" and if you don't like it, you can suck my left one.)

Then Spy Wife tells Syd that seven years ago, she was ordered to seduce and marry Slater in order to keep tabs on his work. What kind of training does Russian intelligence give its agents, anyway? "How To Subtly Seduce Important Americans Without Raising Red Flags" and "The Feminine Mystique And You: A Match Made In Hell"? Seriously. Spy Wife says something about how she had to put a tracking device in Slater's arm that, unfortunately, has a secondary purpose: it's designed to release fifty milligrams of cyanide into Slater's bloodstream. That's right, folks! It's not just a tracking device, it's a suicide pill! "That's what the fax was about," finishes Spy Wife. "It means it's been activated."

Syd's all, and I suppose you're not authorized to be telling me this, right? Spy Wife's all, yeah, pretty much. I've just committed treason 'cuz I just lurve my husband the most and I want to get him back. Syd just broods at her and tries to draw some parallel between Spy Wife's life plan and Spy Mommy's life plan, even though, like, there's no WAY that the writers intended anything like that AT ALL. EVER.

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