Underpants On The Outside

I’m a big fan of 24. Sure, the story is good, but I’m mostly impressed by how much Jack Bauer manages to squeeze into a day. To illustrate, I’m going to compare each hour of Jack’s day to the corresponding hour in my own day.

Jack’s Day, 8-9 PM:  It’s a shame I wasn’t able to get to this episode until now.  It’s also a shame that I never seem to have time to write for the Underpants anymore and it’s turning into just a 24 blog.  Nevertheless, my delay in getting to this episode is worse because this one was a sight to behold.

It started off innocently enough.  In a nice change of pace, Roommates Kat and Mary came over to watch 24 at my apartment, and at the beginning, Ricky Schroeder informed Jack that while his nuclear drone aerial routine was mostly a success, he didn’t stick the landing and it’s going to cost him in the overall.  Jack has already watched a nuclear bomb go off, so this actually represents significant improvement; the least Silver Spoon could do is give him a handshake.  That glass of heavy water is half FULL, Schroeder.  Besides, that’s all the way in San Francisco; the nearest Six Flags is 45 minutes away and perfectly safe.  Jack can’t be bothered. 

An Asian agent walks up to Jack to tell him Buchanan’s on the phone. Remember, the last time an Asian guy told Jack he had a phone call, Jack wound up on a container ship bound for China.  So even though this agent is legit (24 producers: “see, we know Asian people aren’t all bad!”) he’s also lucky that Jack didn’t kill him just to be on the safe side.  When it comes to law enforcement, Jack tends to take habeas corpus a tad too literally.

Buchanan tells Jack that the vice president is going to launch a nuclear strike unless Jack finds the current main-bad-guy-terrorist, which sucks for me because now I have to explain what’s going on.  The crux of my 24 bit is that I compare my hour to Jack’s, so usually I can leave the other convoluted chaff out.   Like how members of President Wayne’s staff thought he was too weak for not attacking some Middle Eastern country and locking up Muslims as soon as Valencia went up in smoke, so they plotted to have him killed.  Their plan failed, but Wayne’s injuries put him in a coma, and now the Vice President is ordering a nuclear strike on a country he basically chose by coin flip.  For the record, this is 24, not Animal Farm; I have no desire to discuss any heavy-handed parallels to recent U.S. History any more than I would relate the outcome of the Cold War to the plot of Rocky IV. 

Jack asks Buchanan, “when will the nuclear strike happen?” apparently forgetting how things work around here.  Mary again proposes a drinking game based on the number of times someone says, “within the hour”, “there’s no time”, and “damn it, Chloe!”  I refuse; even if you played that with Zima you’d be jaundiced before the season was half over.

Meanwhile the General (bad guy Umpteen of Kajillion – I’ve given up counting at this point) calls a man, demanding information on one of Los Angeles’s many local nuclear power plants, so the man asks his autistic, computer-genius brother to hack into his work computer and get it.  Thankfully I haven’t seen Rain Man, so this plotline is completely original to me.  You’ll also never hear me say something like, “holy shit, this guy isn’t even trying to hide his Hoffman impersonation.”  Boy, I’m sure lucky I haven’t seen Rain Man.  

More to the point, what was this doing in 24?  Rain Man has a moral: something which should never come within fifty feet of a 24 episode.  Mary and I usually spend the hour making offensive remarks, but neither of us wanted anything to do with joking about autism.  At that point, Kat, Mary and I exchanged the most uncomfortable looks we’ve ever shared, roughly on par with, “did someone just fart in this elevator?”

8:14: As the President lies comatose on a hospital bed, Kat does her “Who cares?” bit and goes to sleep on my couch.  That was quick; maybe a record. 

Meanwhile, Chloe was able to trace the General’s call to the Rain Man residence and sends Jack and his tac-team over there.  I just realized that was their second straight mission, which might make them the most successful team Jack has ever worked with.  When they get there, (seven minutes later) they bust in, and Jack shoots the Tom Cruise character in the leg.  At least that wasn’t in the movie.   Now Jack wants to use the autistic guy to catch the Russian.  I know Jack will do whatever it takes, but I think this might have finally crossed the line.   Mary and I exchange another uncomfortable look; a look I’m more accustomed to seeing immediately following one of my sexual advances.  (Typically consisting of, “Y’wanna hump?”  which still has a much better success rate of my high-school approach of a two page love letter.  Oh, I’m a ladykiller, alright.)

The thing is the autistic guy knows not to talk to strangers.  Jack, get in there and tell him who he’s dealing with.  “My name is Jack Bauer.”   Ah, there we are.  That was like introduction T-ball.

At Jack’s request/demand, the Tom Cruise character comes up with a flimsy excuse why he can’t meet the General, so his brother will take his place, and Jack will ambush them with the help of his All-Star tac-team.  The mission is a success, Jack gets a kill, and they capture the general.   That’s three consecutive successful missions for this tac-team.   In NBA Jam, their guns would be shooting bullets of flame, and they would never miss.  The unfortunate side effect of their gunplay is that the autistic guy is frightened, which Jack cures with a moment of incredible tenderness/exploitation.  As for me, I’m breezing through this because I have no desire to relive the experience.  I’m conservatively estimating the increasingly awkward glances between me and Mary at five. 

Back in the house, Jack makes a bizarre hand-to-mouth motion like he just took a pill, right before he walks in to see the General tied in a chair.  I still don’t know what that pill thing was.  Jack: “You know who I am.”  General: “I know all about you.”   Well, there goes that introduction opportunity.  Jack puts on his Batman voice to say, “Then you know what I’m going to do to you.”   Unfortunately, the General really does seem to know all about Jack because this doesn’t faze him in the least.  He wants amnesty and he knows Jack’s just bluffing.  Jack knows it too; he’s already botched two interrogations today.  So…he stares at the guy with a mean face he must have learned from Audrey.  Something tells me that’s going to bring Jack’s number of botched interrogations up to three.

For the hour:

• Kills: 1
• Incapacitating Leg Shots: 1 (though not quite an Incredible Feat of Marksmanship)
• Bad Guys Captured: 1 (Someone’s getting a gold star…)
• Introductions: .5 (I liked the “I don’t talk to strangers” setup, but I have to deduct a half point for Jack precluding a second introduction by asking the Russian if he knew who Jack was.)
• Instances of Plagiarism: 1
• Uncomfortable Glances Induced: 7
• Moments of Tenderness That Will Haunt My Nightmares: 1

Every pitcher has days where he just doesn’t have his fastball, and sooner or later, Jack’s was going to have to try his curveball.  I was just hoping he’d have something better than the Buzzkill face.  Still, good effort, good effort.  At the very least, we’re seeing some great improvement in the home invasion and nuclear prevention aspects of Jack’s job performance.

My Day, 8-9 PM:  Tuesday was a co-worker’s birthday, so Monday night we took her out to a terrific Greek place.  I ordered the sweetbreads, which I’ve never eaten before and are actually a euphemism for pancreas (I knew this beforehand).   Okay, it’s not the same as eating human throat sashimi like Jack, but it was still something new and adventurous for me.   I also ordered a rum drink with saffron in it, which I wanted to call a “paella colada” if anyone there would have gotten the joke.  Not too much of interest happened, though I did call the birthday girl a “fatty” and was subsequently hit in the neck with a piece of kiwi. 

For the hour: 

• Pancreas Consumed: I estimate two sheep’s worth, though that may be high.  I don’t care; I’m counting it as this as two kills for me.

I win again, Jack.  (Though I would have gone the way of Curtis if that kiwi had been a bullet.)

Oh yeah, don’t forget: next week is the annual “meta” episode of 9-10PM, when I will spend my hour watching Jack’s, causing the universe to implode.  So make sure to make peace with your God.  On the plus side, you probably don’t have to worry too much about preparing your Tuesday Seder.