John Doe
Past Imperfect

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Ragdoll: C+ | Grade It Now!
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Foiled again!

Now, after about sixteen useless passes over the obvious, Karen finally gets to the incredibly long and drawn-out point: "Are you saying you have amnesia but seem to know everything about everything else?" Blah his mind, blah a computer, blah he's a fountain of knowledge blah. Then he throws out some crazy facts just to prove that he's a motor-brained genius, in case we didn't get it already. That's right. In case we'd never read a description of the show, watched an episode. or hell, ever heard of a character called Jason Bourne -- I mean "John Doe." Yawn. Karen calms down and asks about John's Sign. She says, "Does it hurt?" He says, "No. It was just there." Then John asks, "Karen, can I trust you with this?" Now, if this were a soap opera, of course within seconds John's secret would be broadcast over the local television network, causing a scandal and massive amounts of job loss. She says, "Um, yeah, sure." I don't know, but I'm not too convinced she's not going to blab everything to Non-Colin, the phone friend from a town called Contrived. Before they have time to further discuss John's very special situation, Karen bolts, claiming that she's got to get to art class. Oh great -- a peasant-blouse-wearing, secret-door-snooping hippie art major is now privy to the inner workings of John Doe's HQ? Someone had better alert the Pentagon.

Seacouver. Workers at a very muddy construction site uncover a steel drum, whose lid just magically lifts off like a peanut butter jar, revealing a bunch of human bones, miraculously preserved, and screaming, "Mystery!" Later that night, the police have now roped off the site and are doing basic crime-scene stuff. Frank snaps his fingers and walks over to Stu, who is staring into the barrel with a flashlight. Can he identify the body? Stu says, "No sign of clothing, fingerprints long dissolved." Frank snaps back, "Well, is there anything you can tell me or is it time to call John Edwards?" Stu responds, "Female. Based on the rate of decay, and the oxidation on the drum, I'd say she's been down here at least thirty years." Frank shakes his head and then says, "Hey, yo -- Bob the builder, what used to be here before this?" Because all construction workers love to be condescended to in the middle of the night, while working a job they're probably under time constraints to finish after just uncovering a thirty-year-old corpse. Is everyone on this show a wisecracking comedian? Bob The Builder says, "A parking lot, before that --" he shrugs his shoulders. So, we cut to a police clerk who looks it up in the computer and says that one Stephen Prescott owned a house there from 1960-1968. Frank mutters to Captain Jamie, "Probably pulled a John Wayne Gacy and buried her in the backyard." Then he asks the clerk to pull up Prescott's old driver's license so they can take a look at him. Did Seattle driver's licenses even have pictures in the 1960s? Both Frank and Captain Jamie are stunned -- the picture on the license from 1968? You got it -- our friendly neighbourhood amnesiac genius John Doe. In the words of Captain Jamie, "You've got to be kidding me." Word to that, sister.

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John Doe

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