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Erin: A | Grade It Now!
The Paris Death Match

This silly plot device, er, I mean, page, is conveniently located at the Paris nightclub. Sark will hand Khasinau a counterfeit ampoule while Dix and Syd lift the Rambaldi page from Khasinau's office. Syd's confused. She thought they were gonna nab Khasinau and teach him a lesson. Sloane tells her to shut her piehole and pay attention. Sark has provided detailed schematics of the nightclub. The headlining performer has called in sick, and Syd's going to take her place. Millions of male Alias fans hope that the nightclub's featured entertainment is a strip show. Sloane turns the floor over to Marshall, who asks Sydney how her voice is. Syd's all, why?

Before Marshall can answer, we're transported to an under-the-bridge meeting between Spy Daddy and Willage. Spy Daddy fills Willage in on the details of the Deep Throat meeting. Only, uh, I don't really know HOW Spy Daddy knows the details of the Deep Throat meeting because, like, he isn't Deep Throat. I mean, didn't Willage get a call from Deep Throat with instructions? Shouldn't Willage already KNOW the details of the meeting? Oh, whatever. Like it matters. Willage looks really cute in this scene so, really, I'm not even paying attention to the dialogue.

Spy Daddy hands Willage a coat with a miniature transmitter sewn into the lining. Willage is worried about being frisked. Good thing the transmitter's too small to detect. Those spies! They think of everything. Spy Daddy wants to know the terms of the meeting; where, when, is Willage supposed to be doing anything specific? Right. Because Spy Daddy knows how Willage is going to be abducted for the meeting, but he doesn't know where, when, or if Willage is supposed to be doing anything specific. Lord.

Willage tells Spy Daddy that he's supposed to be on a street corner, tomorrow night, reading the business section of the local paper. What street corner? Where? Spy Daddy's full of questions for someone who usually knows everything. Willage takes a deep breath and says, "Paris." Ah, Paris. I know it well. Too bad I'm not there right now.

Wendy Kroy: Bitch, you were just THERE. Don't be greedy.
Regina: Jealous much?
Wendy Kroy: Bet your sweet ass I'm jealous. And you didn't even bring me a goddamn ashtray from the airport.
Regina: Dude. I told you! There were dogs sniffing around my luggage! I wasn't really looking for cheap airport ashtrays.
Wendy Kroy: Whatever. You're such a selfish cu--

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