Previously on Alias: Captain Forehead almost bit the big one, AGAIN, but Syd managed to save his ass in the eleventh hour just so Colonel Chickenshit could almost not quite but then sorta kinda not really tell Syd he loved her. Then Syd dressed up like a geisha and sacrificed Detective Dancing Queen to the God of the Underworld, a.k.a. "Sark." Instead of murdering Inspector I Love The Nightlife, Sark partnered up with him instead. What're his intentions? I don't fucking know. I just know Sark's hotter than a bowl full of lava fresh out of the earth's core.
Wait. What's that sound? That's not the pulsing strains of Creedence Clearwater Revival, is it? Why, it most certainly is. As Sark peels around the corner of a cliffside road, the incongruous rasp of John Fogerty singing 'bout that bad ol' moon can be heard on the soundtrack. Are we to assume that Sark, that cooler-than-Christmas-candy scion of Derevko, Inc., is a CCR fan? Does that make ANY sense to ANYONE?
I, personally, have no problem with CCR. Their music immediately conjures up images of Kevin Kline and Tom Berenger riding through the streets of Beaufort, South Carolina in search of Chinese food as they discuss the weird sexual proposals that Tom's been getting all weekend, but, like, I don't have a particular problem with the band itself. That being said, does Sark strike you as the kind of guy who'd cruise through the hills of Los Angeles listening to a circa-mid-sixties rock band from the fucking BAYOU? I'm sorry, but I'm under the impression that Sark's more of a Prodigy man, myself. Or something so old that it's new. You know, like Sarah Vaughn or Rachmaninoff.
I'm just sayin'. The music? In this episode? Sucked donkey balls. The CCR thing set me off right from the start. Yeah. And it's not just the music. I mean, you may come across me bitching about that part near the end where the obviously-on-vacation musical director blithely allows the inclusion of "Walk On" by U2 during the final The Family That Guns Down Enemies Together Stays Together sequence, but the rest of the episode also had me doing a whole hell of a lot of "the FUCK?" Much head-scratching took place during the forty-four minutes that this show splayed across my thirteen-inch television set, people. And you'll probably suffer because of it. Just for kicks, you can keep track of how many times I include the phrases "the hell?" and "whyeeeeee?" Come on! It'll be fun!
Yeah, so anyway, Sark's speeding around listening to Looziana hippie music. Syd makes an appearance, speeding up next to him in her humongous 4x4. The hell? Sark gets a zippy little Mercedes convertible with a quadraphonic Blaupunkt, and Syd gets a mom-burban car complete with kiddie seats? She can't have a fucking Infiniti or something? I mean, I know she's supposed to be in school (don't even get me started on the disappearance of the university storyline -- we'll be here all goddamn weekend) and she has a job and everything, but even my UNEMPLOYED friends have better cars than Syd! She's not forty and going to fucking PTA meetings, for god's sake. They couldn't maybe give her a Jetta? Christ, even a goddamn Honda makes more sense than a big gas-guzzler that can double as an apartment for an entire family of illegal immigrants.