Over at The Den Of Porno, a gruff John Candy-ish type sits on the living room couch (You know. The brown one that's right next to the brown one) eating pizza, as Kyle opens two soft drinks and thanks the guy for "taking this meeting." Gruff mechanic friend -- let's call him Bill Mechanic -- questions, "Meeting? You just said you were springing for lunch." But Kyle has loftier goals for the meal, telling Bill Mechanic, "I've been thinking about my future" and "I think I have a lot to offer," asking if Bill would consider "taking on a partner." Porno peeks through a crack in the door at the ensuing disappointment that is his son, as Bill Mechanic responds, "You're a kid. You're not even my mechanic. You're an assistant." Porno looks upon this, craggy and sad. He remembers his own days of being a brave and resilient failure before just giving up completely.
Ambiguous cheap motel locale, middle of nowhere. Yet another authoritarian-sounding voice says, "One of my men picked this out of the rubble a few nights ago." Can I tell you how tired I am of hearing phrases like "one of my men" and "the special unit" bandied around? Enough already. Anyway, Disembodied Authority Voice puts a perfectly intact videotape with no label into the machine (wow, they're so not even trying at this point, are they?), and we're treated to Centrifugal Isabel And Her Merry Band Of Spinning Stuff one more freakin' time. One military man turns to another and asks, "Is she the thing that destroyed our base?" No one knows. Military Man #1 asks, "Can the Special Unit deal with this?" Military Man #2 responds, "The Special Unit no longer exists." Yeah, since the spring of 2000. Shouldn't a man in this seeming seat of governmental power have been briefed on that development at some point in the past two years? Somebody hand him a history book before he attempts to fix this scourge of extra-terrestrial activity by mobilizing the League of Nations. Military Man #3 conveniently notes that "the members of the unit do remain in contact with each other," I suppose through a renegade series of chat rooms and underpopulated EZ Boards where the once proud members of this elite club regale each other with tales of a time before life dealt them such a harsh and unfair hand.