You know, this Barefoot Bubbly isn't half bad. Under the influence of Produce Pete, I've even made myself some dainty crustless sandwiches to accompany this delightful West Coast homage to champagne. I spread a thin layer of cream cheese on some wheat bread and topped it with the freshest watercress this state has to offer -- quite a tummy tickler. I then made up a watercress, thyme, garlic, and parmigiano-reggiano cheese butter, topped it with more watercress, and spread that on the other sandwich. Also a very successful invention, considering I'm trying to get rid of this bumper crop of watercress before it spoils. The only issue I have with the Barefoot Bubbly is that the footprints on the label and the graphics on the vineyard's homepage remind me uncomfortably of "Footprints," a religious poem I once had on a bookmark. Maybe it has something to do with that skeevy Thomas Kinkadian style they've espoused. Did you know that each of his paintings contain a sample of his DNA and that's how you know you've got the Real Thing? I did. I was forced to work on one of his books in my past life, and it's all a big, huge cult which will probably have me eliminated when they read this recap. I never learned if the DNA sample was blood, skin, hair, or something more sinister.
Industrial Planet. Trip hands over the platinum, and Wheezer tries to stall Quantum's meeting with the nine-fingered Xindi, but Quantum is having none of it, so Wheezer takes them into the mines. Okay, you're going to think I'm totally off my wine cork here, but Wheezer's totally playing It's Pat! in these scenes. Everything from his half-raised hands almost plucking at his nipples (now, why did that make me think of Kirk?) to his weird bleating "eeeeh"s of breath. On their way down to the cancer-riddled mines, Trip notes that he doesn't know anything about the Trellium D they mine. Wheezer notes that the Trellium D is used for insulating the hulls of space vessels, and asks what Enterprise's insulation of choice is. I'm guessing it's not what the Pink Panther sells. Wheezer also wants to know how large Quantum's crew is, but before Quantum can answer, the nine-fingered Xindi is thrown into their midst. Trip hands over the liquid platinum, and Wheezer leaves them with the nine-fingered Xindi who keelt their father and should prepare to die. There's some back and forth before the nine-fingered Xindi tells Quantum that he won't give them directions to his homeworld unless they help him escape. Trip completely loses it, grabs the Xindi (who is a Mr. Man kind of Xindi, by the way), and throws him against some mine stuff in order to better intimidate him into giving them what they want. The Xindi won't comply without an exit visa. Trip tells the nine-fingered Xindi that he's just "itching to kick the hell outta [him]." As good cop, Quantum tells Trip to cool it and answers his comm. From the Bridge, T'Pol (in an electric blue version of the same Velveteen Vulcan Velour she was wearing earlier) tells Quantum that heavily armed warships are approaching the planet and will get there in two hours. Wait -- I should note that it's May-I-Got-Rehired who gives the time-stamp, because it's close to the only thing he does in this episode. Poor Anthony Montgomery; my Trek Throat tells me he's such a nice and eager guy on the set. The Nine-Fingered Xindi rags on them for being an easy target for Wheezer: "You have a starship in orbit? Ooh, you made it so easy for them -- usually they have to go out and find ships to replenish their labor force." Heh -- a nine-fingered alien is taunting our fearless crew. Quantum and Trip bang on the door and realized they've been locked in. The Nine-Fingered Xindi laughs that they flew right into Wheezer's trap. Quantum can't get back in touch with his ship, and the Nine-Fingered Xindi tells him that if they take him with them, he can get them to the surface and thence to their sh'pod. I enjoy saying "thence" for absolutely no reason whatsoever.