I pretty much really like the fucking episode from this point on. Let's get a time marker, hang on. WOW, that's crazy. I would have said at least half the episode but it's way less than that. 18:30 of 45:19 of this episode is bollocks. That's...41% spiteful hatred? So the C grade is basically correct. I don't even have to adjust for virulence of disgust. (See, this is why everybody thought I enjoyed Serenity, this exact kind of thing here.) Let's do this; I particularly love the following sequence. "So it began: the impossible task. To scour the mean streets, to search a major capital city for an unknown girl. To hunt down that face in a seething metropolis of lost souls. To find that one girl in ten million." And immediately an old lady pops up: "Oh, that's Rose Tyler. She lives just down there, Bucknell House. Number 48. Her mother's Jackie Tyler. Nice family. Bit odd..." She walks off, leaving Elton standing bemused for a second before he heads into a run, ELO bursting into glorious song in accompaniment (there's a short, all-too-motherfucking unnecessary cut to the bedroom dancing) and then is caught again open-mouthed as somebody calls out to Jackie Tyler right there in the street. "Hello, sweetheart!" Jackie calls, as Elton compares her to the photo of Rose. "See you down the Spinning Wheel tonight, yeah? Pub quiz, get 'em in!" Jackie's friend strides off. This is Jackie with friends, not lonely. Smashing down the Victor walls, peeking over them, reaching out with fingers and then hands. Jackie proceeds down the street and into a laundromat, and Elton follows, stripping off his shirt and balling it up as he enters.

"I'd been trained for this. Victor Kennedy's classes covered basic surveillance and espionage." Not bliss, not love; not friendship. Elton opens one of the dryers, popping his shirt in. "Step One: engage your target. Find some excuse to start a conversation." But how? "Excuse me love, couldn't give us a quid for two fifties, could you?" asks Jackie, smashing Step One in the face. Elton scrounges for some of that crazy money they have over there and trades with her; he turns back to his machine. Loneliness, shyness, aren't things you get over: everybody's new territory every time. Everybody's a chance to jump. But touching another person's life demands flexibility: to make friends is something fluid. This is hard. "Step Two: Without provoking suspicion, get on first-name terms with the target." He looks up. "My name's Jackie," she says brightly. "By the way." Jackie Tyler -- can you imagine her with Victor Kennedy? She'd have him crying in seconds. She'd break his cane and drown his Powerbook so fast. So does that make Elton Ariel, doing the Boss's work? Or Caliban, smashing down walls to devour beauty for his dinner? Or is he Ferdinand, reaching for friendship first with fingers and then hands? Depends what side of the mystery you're on. "I'm Elton," he says, blown away by his luck. "You don't meet many Eltons, do you? Apart from the obvious!" she jokes; they laugh. That's Step Three: "Ingratiate yourself with a joke or some humorous device." Jackie's making it easy on Elton, and even follows up: "Here we are, complete strangers, and I'm flashing you me knickers!" Elton's not ready for that jelly -- who could be? -- but laughs anyway. Step Four: Find some subtle way to integrate yourself into the target's household. Rules for serial killers and MySpace Calibans. "Mind you, I'm only down here because my washing machine's knackered," says Jackie. "I don't suppose you're any good at fixing things, are you?" Fingers, then hands.