Gunn enters, and Wesley starts in with his version of "Where have you been, young man? Your mom and I were worried!" Angel starts jabbering that they have to find a hot spot and figure out a way to stick together once they've passed through the Stargate...I mean, "portal." Gunn interrupts, "I'm not going." I tried this once when my family was planning a trip. Didn't work out too well, but my parents were saddled with a sulky teenage girl for a week, so I think we all learned a lesson. Gunn explains, "Last night I lost one of my crew. I should've been there, but...I'm sorry, but Wes said the trip was one-way and...I can't!" Angel and Wesley just stare as poor Gunn says he owed it to Angel to explain face to face. Angel pouts and refuses to look at Gunn. Gunn steps forward, because he's a grown-up, and tells Angel, "Please. Find her." And then he leaves. Cary comments, "Tough decision, poor kid...but I'm right there with him." Angel reluctantly agrees, until Cary explains, "I mean about the not going part." Angel spins and insists that Cary has to be their guide. Cary calmly says, "Remember when I said I loved this dimension and I'm never, never, never gonna leave? Well, exactly which 'never' did you not understand?" Before Angel can complain too much, Cary says he'll try to help them locate a hot spot, and exits. Wesley tells Angel that Gunn has responsibilities, and I suddenly notice that Wesley's shirt has princess seams. Angel whispers to the counter, "You and I have to figure out how to save her." The Formica has no response. Angel and Wesley furrow their brows. Cordy is so dead.
We cut to a quaint village with the motto, "We put the 'evil' in 'medieval.'" Demons on horseback, buildings with thatched roofing, the whole nine yards. Cordy is bound and swinging from a pole carried by two demons. Cordy fiercely grips the ropes around her hands, trying to avoid damage to her wrists. If they want their slaves to work hard, maybe they should consider transporting them in a way that doesn't involve dangling them by their limbs. Cordy is deposited in a frame, still dangling, and her captor approaches with a prospective buyer. There's something horribly Gorean about this scenario already. Which makes me wonder whether this story, like the Gor books themselves, was written on a bet. Cordy's future owner is a withered old female demon with a shrill voice. Let's call her Haggar. No, not the Viking. Haggar says that Cordy looks skinny and ugly, causing Cordy to squeak behind her gag. After some discussion, Cordy is traded to Haggar for a pig and a pint of "Flib liquor." The male demon slips a sliver band around Cordy's neck before cutting her free. No fair -- I already used up my "Gamesters of Triskelion" references on "The Ring." Haggar complains that, since her last slave died, she's been "mucking out the flehegna stables" herself. So people are "cows," they drink "Flib liquor," and domesticate "flehegna." Only now do I realize that the Lorne Greene reference was foreshadowing. Welcome to the Battlestar Galactica school of establishing an alien world via occasional gibberish. So, we all know where this is going, right? Cordy jabbers away, Haggar zaps her with the electro-collar, Cordy is surprised, no one else in the universe is, Haggar zaps her again, and Cordy obediently follows her new owner. The camera follows her, then swerves away to focus on a dark-haired slave girl who's loitering in the shade. Who is this mysterious person. Why are we looking at her? Oh yeah; it's Fred. We knew that. Next?