Las Vegas
Semper Spy

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Daniel: B | Grade It Now!
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Heaving Las Vegas
I should be so blessed as to be dealt a couple of aces that I can split, as some dude in the Montecito does here, exhorting the dealer to "show [him] something good!" The dealer does, dropping a face card down on the first ace, much to the delight of the gambler and the assorted hangers-on. "Yeah!" yells the guy, pumping his fists in the air. "Yeah!" he yells again. "Yeah!" he yells over and over as the camera sweeps by, even after the dealer plops down a three on his other ace.

In the master security control room, James Caan strolls out of his office to address the crew. "Friends, Romans, surveillance guys," he begins, perhaps longing for a higher class of acting than he'll find on a marginal NBC show about a casino. He announces he's taking a vacation. "You're kidding," says Danny, swiveling around in his chair. No, he's not kidding. Nor is James Caan Sonny Corleone any longer. He looks so different from Sonny that he may as well be a completely different actor. Fine with me. This way, we can all forget about Mickey Blue Eyes. "The last decent tan I had was Mogadishu," he says, which is a little like saying, "The last decent tan I had was Tikrit," for all its value as some sort of vacation paradise. Ed explains that Jillian made them reservations in Hawaii, and he's leaving tomorrow. Or, as Ed would say, "Tomorrah." Naturally, he wonders if Danny can handle things -- and just at that moment, a drunken woman at the Ace Splitter's table is leaning a little too far into the action, far enough that if she gets blackjack, the dealer's going to have to cough up three breasts. Danny gets on the cell phone to tell someone to keep her from toppling off her stool. "And?" prompts Ed. And Danny adds for the security dude to check her for a MedicAlert bracelet, since she may be off her meds. Yeah. Because bottle-blonde casino floozies always make sure to accessorize with their MedicAlert bracelets. Danny tells Ed not to worry, since keeping the bimbos upright isn't exactly "brain surgery," so Ed should go have a good time. "Hey, what about that armored truck delivery?" says Exposition Ed. Danny needlessly reminds Ed that it's a shipment of watches and diamonds for the new jewelry store, and that they're coming in through the loading dock to "minimize exposure." Uh, wouldn't they automatically be coming in through the loading dock? Ed's all set to go, but there's one last crisis for Danny to handle smoothly. With one dude distracting a slot jockey, another dude swipes her coins. Danny tells his crew to move in. Although he strangely only tells them to grab the guy in the striped shirt, his crew manages to snag both con artists. Danny swivels back to beam at Ed, all proud of himself. "We've been watching them since they came into the casino." Ed grins and claps his hands and takes about half an hour to actually leave. Opening credits. And…my god. I've been less than upset at the eye candy I get to watch on Miss Match, but this is like a collection of all-stars. Admittedly, the inclusion of Marcil and Sims isn't filling me with anticipation of incredible performances, though, other than the heroic work of the supportive undergarments.

Commercials. Isn't it great when you know that "one hour of Friends!" actually means, "Yes, Coupling sucked. But now it's gone!"?

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Las Vegas

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