Lone Gunmen
Like Water for Octane

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Jessica: B- | Grade It Now!
Like Water for Octane

The Gunmen have this nifty computer program that can reassemble shredded documents, which I guess is essential if you're going to be poring through government trash bins in search of evidence. Exposition time: Meiser made a car that ran on water. The car disappeared. Meiser wouldn't talk. Frohike thinks that he was threatened into silence by Big Oil. Big Oil is almost as fascinating a Big Bad as FEMA was in the X-Files movie. That is, not at all. The Gunmen wax group poetic about this magical car's ability to change the world. Endless supply of energy, end of pollution, et cetera. My eyes glaze over. The document, reassembled, is widely censored. The only bits of information include what looks like a pallet number for a shipped item, and a set of initials: J.T. Frohike opines that their getting this mysterious clue is fate. Because, he says stiffly, the car is still out there: "And we're going to find it, no matter how hard they try to stop us."

Secaucus, New Jersey. Nighttime. I notice that Chris Carter has done away with those pesky time-date stamps which have gotten him in so much trouble with me over on The X-Files. Good call, dude; now you can just throw continuity completely out the window, rather than just making it wait in the mudroom. A shiny new Audi TT rolls up the street, and up into what looks like a scenic overlook. Yves AnagramName pops out in her usual black leather catsuit attire. She's meeting a Blandly Attractive Suit about some kind of spying thing, but I really have no idea what's going on because I am so distracted by her massive lips. Seriously. Those could hurt someone. They can't possibly be real. And if they're fake, sister, good God, lay off the silicon, because you look absurd. Yves murmurs something about something being dramatic, her words barely making it past her massive smackers. BAS wants know what she has for him. "Nothing yet. Soon, hopefully," Yves mumbles. BAS stares off into the distance and asks Yves whether she's ever thought about dinosaurs. She's like, no, thank you, Ross Geller. BAS comments that "our entire world economy is based on [dinosaurs]." Yves says something about dinosaurs being "geologically transformed into crude oil," but she slurs her words so badly that I have to rewind three times to get that much. Seriously, the lips, plus the fake-ass accent, equals a sentence that sounds something like "yew meltz bicuts theeehere sheeeeologisally trasheeeeeforameded inta crawed yule?" BAS is all, I have no idea what you are talking about, hot stuff. Besides, he was talking about oil companies, "as in, though huge and lumbering, we have sharp teeth." I wonder how long it took him to come up with that line, and how many times he practiced it in the rearview mirror on the way over. Yves purrs nonsensically yet again, and hops back into the TT. BAS stares after her, thinking, man, those are some big-ass lips.

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Lone Gunmen




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