Push, Nevada
The Black Box

Episode Report Card
Djb: C | Grade It Now!
Where Politos fear to dwell

Screeeeeeeeee! The Three Product-Placed Ross-Dress-For-Less Suit-Wearers Of The Apocalypse saunter in and look around, Mr. Flesh (and that crayon totally was that one shade of "flesh," provided you hailed from that distant planet known as "Planet CrayonFace") asking how much money was taken from the safe. A million and change taken, $800,000 left over. "So," Mr. Red Red Wine You Make Me Feel So Fine You Keep Me Rockin' All Of The Time (okay, that one I made up) affirms, "A million and change?" A million and change? A million and change. Say it thrice, shame on us all. The Messrs. peruse the remaining booty, most of which is in the form of stacks of gold bars, because every wealthy casino in the desert southwest is funded entirely by the pixel department of the Atari game Pitfall. I guess the stolen money was the cash from the big burlap sacks with the dollar signs across the front. Look out! A scorpion! Swing on the vine, my pixilated hero! THE VINE! Evil Ed continues that nothing else of value was taken from the vault, "only the money and the Bible." The Three Product-Placed Ross-Dress-For-Less Suit-Wearers Of The Apocalypse find this information intriguing, and the director has got the I'm-a-really-good-cameraman-but-right-now-I'm-sleepy-and-faaaaaaalling funky angles to prove it. Evil Ed explains that it was "just this old Bible that had been in the vault for the two few weeks or so. Up on that shelf." The United Colors Of Benetton look in tandem to a blank spot on the shelf, where a Bible appears with a whoosh and disappears just as quickly. Evil Ed vamps about the irony of stealing a Bible, which is ironic in the same way trees are ironic.

Jim's Vintagemobile pulls up in front of another nondescript building labeled "Push County Sheriff Station," and we cut inside to a woman watching what is either an ABC morning program I've never seen or a fake show altogether. I'm going with the latter, because after two examples of ABC programming synergy on last week's episode, it's clear the network has blown its load and shown America all of the programming we're able to recognize since Tracey Gold disappeared from Growing Pains because it was time for her emaciated character to suddenly be admitted to "college." Jim approaches the woman at the front desk and guesses, "You must be Dawn." Dawn smiles brightly and asks how he could know that, and he deadpans, "Because you look like the beginning of a new day." Well, if it was good enough to snag himself a J. Lo, it's good enough for network television. As the old maxim goes. "It's also on your coffee mug." Which is exactly why I introduce myself to new people in large crowds as, "Hello, my name is 'World's Greatest Uncle,' and this is my friend, 'Target Logo.'" Sensing awkwardness, Jim gets right to the matter at hand: "I need to speak to the sheriff." Dawn apologizes that "he's real busy right now," and Jim stares past Dawn into the back room to see Sheriff Old Fart (according to his own mug, or at least his visor with the cans of beer and the two plastic straws affixed to the side) alone in his office, messing with a particularly problematic piece of dental floss. So Jim launches in, to whomever will listen: "I witnessed a murder last night." Dawn merely utters an "oh," knowing that, thus far, the women on this show are whores or secretaries only, and helpless from either of those vocations to do anything about pesky ol' murder. So Dawn sits helpless, brunette and smiley and already underused. Meanwhile, somewhere in a bungalow in Santa Monica, Lauren Graham sits watching in horror, hugs her cardboard cutout of Amy Sherman-Palladino all the more tightly, and utters a barely audible, "Oh, thank God."

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Push, Nevada




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