Passport Boy asks the purpose of their visit. Porn Star Jack is all, it's a vacation. Space Cadet Sydney's all, uh, not exactly a vacation when you're forced to go. "No offense," she says, chomping on her bubble gum and twirling a perfectly swirled lock of blonde hair, "cute country." Hee. Serenely Scary Spy Mommy trills, "Honey, we agreed we'd spend Thanksgiving together." Space Cadet's all, yeah, uh huh. What-EVER, MOM. Porn Star Jack is all, okay, we are NOT going to talk about this now. In order to avoid dealing with the Bizarro Sunshine Family any further, Passport Boy waves them through customs.
Before they leave, Passport Boy compliments Serenely Scary Spy Mommy on her necklace. Spy Mommy states that it was an anniversary gift from her husband, and then whips around and lays a couple of rather chaste kisses on Porn Star Jack's perma-pursed lips. Jack's speechless. Sydney's speechless. Hell, I'M speechless. And that's a first. Before either Syd or Jack can go, "Uh, THE HELL?" Irina trundles both of them through the crowd.
In the backyard of some Hollywood record mogul who just happens to be Indian, a bunch of "Indian" people are milling about in an attempt to make us feel as if we are, indeed, several thousand miles from the nearest Spago. Some guy sitting at a table with a cell phone hears it ring and picks up. It's Vaughn on the other end, pretending that he was trying to reach information. Table Guy offers to help. Vaughn responds that the team's on route and that they'll be at their rendezvous point at 2200 hours. Table Guy understands and clicks off. He passes a table with a vibrantly sari'd woman sitting at it. As soon as he passes, she gets on her own cell phone and informs someone that the CIA contact has been activated.
Hee. The Sprint commercials are absolutely some of the funniest commercials on TV today. "You want me to put my hand in the whut? And pull out the whut whut?" And the guy in the trench coat is SO my new boyfriend. Big. Tall. Goofy expression on his face. Aw yeah. I don't like 'em dumb, but I like 'em to be able to PLAY dumb if it's called for. No, Viggo. You're not dumb. You're far from dumb. But I do, on occasion, like it when you put on your overalls and stare slack-jawed at the computer because you're pretending that you don't understand how all of those words magically appear on the screen. What? You're not pretending? Oh, sweetie. Just sit there and look pretty, okay?
Back in New Delhi, the train's just about to exit the station. It's huffing and puffing and blowing the house down. Speaking of blowing...The Hideous Hair Family is led to their sleeper compartments. Once inside, Syd unzips her gorgeous Burberry luggage and removes a sleek black outfit. Over in her parents' compartment, the porter gives Jack a ticket for their remaining cargo hold luggage, and exits. Jack turns and looks at Irina, who looks so ridiculous in the blonde wig that it's almost difficult to find her present expression of Don't You Want Me Baby even remotely seductive. Still, it seems to be working just a little bit on Porn Star Jack because he turns, locks the door, then turns back and seems at a loss as to what he should do next. Irina makes that decision for him and loses the seductive expression and quickly starts removing her clothes. No, not like that! She's getting ready to change into her spy mode! But I suppose we could take her a wee bit more seriously if, perhaps, she weren't wearing ultra-feminine and hyper-sexy La Perla undergarments, and also if SHE WEREN'T SPORTING THE HOTTEST BODY SINCE REBECCA ROMIJN-STAMOS.