Props to Sci Fi Gal and Vandalisimo.
We open with -- what the heck is this? A warehouse, instead of the Wolfram & Hart building? And we're watching a security guard make his rounds, instead of joining the MoG in the process of rehashing the premise? Hell, did I tape the wrong show? The guard roams through some dark, moody passages, and then hears a mysterious clink and goes to investigate. He checks in on his walkie-talkie, announcing that he's found an open basement door. He descends a staircase and suddenly runs into -- aieee! Oh, it's just a plumber. Phew. The plumber explains that he was replacing a septic pipe, and the guard checks in again via walkie-talkie to announce that all is well. That's just asking for trouble. The plumber starts up the stairs and turns a corner, whereupon he is suddenly flung back down the stairs. The guard runs upstairs and is knocked back by a silhouetted figure. The guard, his face cut, tries to crawl backwards as he screams, "Noooo!" And then we watch the shadows on the wall as he's stabbed by the mysterious attacker.
Only then do we return to the familiar corridors of Wolfram & Hart -- specifically, to the mail cart that is trundled along by the colorfully masked mailman we've seen in several episodes already. Although this is the first time I've noticed the large silver "5" on the mask. Trundle, trundle, trundle. This goes on a little longer than it needs to as he makes his rounds collecting mail. And never delivering anything. He's stopped by Cary, who blocks the cart and asks for professional advice. Cary holds up two greeting cards and says, "Sexy soccer mama or brainy beauty?" After a beat, he clarifies: "You're an aging sexpot celebrating a decade of turning twenty-nine. You've got two little rugrats that aren't that little, a husband who thinks the extras trailer is a buffet table, and gravity ain't doing you any favors." Cary wants to know which birthday card to send, but then he spots Fred headed down the hallway. Cary calls to her, saying that she's "sorta like a woman." The problem I have here is that I don't believe that Cary would need advice on how to flatter anyone, much less that he'd accidentally insult Fred that way. Unless he's still recovering from the sleep deprivation. Anyway, Fred points out that Cary's comment wasn't much of an ego boost, but nonetheless advises Cary to send flowers instead of a card. As she walks away, Cary calls, "You're all woman. You're every woman! You're Wonder Woman!" The mailman moves on. Bye, Cary. See you next week.
In the conference room, Angel starts to sign a contract with fountain pen, but stops to ask if the red ink he's using is blood. Gunn says that it is: "But it's okay. It's yours." Angel finishes his signature, and he has neater handwriting than I expected. Gunn explains that demonic contracts require blood signatures. He puts another contract in front of Angel and asks for his "Herbie Hancock." Heh. Gunn collets the papers and sums things up: "As CEO and President of Wolfram & Hart, you just bankrupted a company that dumps raw demon waste into Santa Monica Bay, banished a clan of Pyro-Warlocks into a hell dimension, and started a foster care program for kids whose parents have been killed by vampires." Angel isn't enthused about his accomplishments, and Gunn says that he knows Angel would rather be rescuing chicks, and I almost burst into tears because yes it's exposition, but it sounds relatively natural and has enough amusing frills to keep it from boring me to tears. ["Which, if it actually did make you cry, would be ironic. Heh." -- Wing Chun] Gunn's next lines, about how much he likes being Legal Boy, aren't quite as smooth, particularly when he concludes, "You've always had your special powers; now I have mine."