24: “This Isn’t the Tony that I THOUGHT I knew”

As we left the bumbling cast and the least credible script since Lost in Space in the last episode, Tony the Quite Undead had been captured, with Jack’s last words to him being: “what the Hell happened to you?”

Obviously, Jack didn’t approve of Tony’s new hairdo.

10:00 am to 11:00 am. Yes, we will catch up, give us a break here.

“Where the heck is the GIZMO?”, President Cankles screams as they find out that Tony wasn’t carrying it around in a big yellow box with the words “GIZMO That Will End The World As We Know It” stamped on it.

“You didn’t expect him to have it, did you, Madam President?”, Chief of Staff Jeeves asks.

“Why not? Didn’t we just, through careful analysis and after much consideration based on a grainy picture of him conclude that he was obviously the mastermind of the entire plot to End The World As We Know It?”

“Well, erm, yes, Madam President, but that…”

“And wouldn’t it therefore, logically, follow that he’d be in possession of the GIZMO?”

“No, Madam President.”

“And what do you base this on, if you please?”

“It’s only the third episode of a 24-episode show, Madam President.”

“Ahhhh…” After a long pause: “Does this mean that we’ll be bumbling around following false leads and missing the Grand Prize at the very last minute for the next, say, 20 episodes, wasting a lot of time and accomplishing next to nothing, lest we ruin the plot?”

“Indeed, Madam President.”

“Very well then. What’s the next false lead we’re supposed to follow?”

The Secretary of State steps forward. “It turns out that, logically and based on nothing more than one grainy photo of Mr. Almeida coupled with the fact that we’re about to invade the insignificant banana republic of Bumfuckistan, that Mr. Almeida OBVIOUSLY has to be in the employ of Dictator Ooga-Booga of Bumfuckistan.”

“Why not President Puffy Hair of North Korea, President Putin of Russia, whoever happens to be in charge of al Qaeda for the next couple of weeks before he’s blown up too, King Whassisface? of Saudi Arabia, that morbidly obese freak show from Venezuela or that bearded twit whose name sounds like ‘dinner jacket’ from Iran, just to name a few?”

“Because of The Rule™, Madam President.”

“What rule?”

“Only one international crisis per season, and every single other event on the show is connected with that crisis.”

“Do they think that the viewers are stupid?”

“They’re still watching, aren’t they?”, somebody mutters off-stage, but he’s interrupted by the Sec-of-State: “Possibly, Madam President, but it’s more likely because the writers have trouble keeping more than two thoughts going in their heads at the same time. Oh, and there’s this:”

He shows President Cankles a picture of some black dude with an AK. “This is General Haku-Slashu, who killed 300,000 of his own countrymen”, he adds for dramatic effect, not once bothering to explain how one guy could possibly off that many people. “He left you this message:”, he adds, and plays a message from General Haku-Slashu who informs the President that she’d better immediately surrender and withdraw all of her troops or some truly nasty things are going to happen because his people have the GIZMO.

“Dammit”, President Cankles mutters, “this pig should have been tried for war crimes years ago and now he’s issuing ultimatums.”

“Well, it WAS your party who blocked any proposals to go in and pick him up, Madam President”

“Be QUIET! We only did that because those horrible Republican Death Beasts wouldn’t have read him his Miranda Rights and because they refused to lodge him at a five star hotel. Oh, and because they’d have gotten all the credit for it.”

President Cankles then goes on to tell everybody that she’s not budging. Risking as much as a stubbed toe over a war in a strategically vital region is ‘warmongering’ and a ‘waste of American military lives’, but risking the entire nation’s infrastructure and millions of civilian lives right here at home over a G-d forsaken shithole in darkest Africa with absolutely no significance, now THAT’S another matter if you’re a Democrat.

Elsewhere, Tony is being flown in in a helicopter and, more importantly, Jack has been issued a pair of Ray-Ban Aviators. Agent Freckles’ boss is pissed off that she didn’t text message him while they were off catching bad guys, leaving him with nothing to do but playing Flip Words on MSN Games. Agent Freckles patiently tries to explain to him that it was because the FBI has a leak due to sub-clause c) of the 57th paragraph of “Script for ’24’, directions for the writing of.”

Oh, and the fact that terrorist organizations trying to stay under the radar generally don’t keep 24/7 sniper surveillance of everybody they’ve ever talked to. They’re not government funded, after all.

SAC Fuckup reluctantly agrees, which means that he looks like he’s just eaten a whole loaf of shit sandwich. At the FBI, Tony isn’t saying anything. Until they bring out the most terrifying, nerve-shattering, libido-crushing, insanity-inducing terror weapon known to man: Janeane Garawfulho grabbing his shirt and lifting it up while she licks her lips in what we suppose is considered “a seductive manner” among the three-headed swamp creatures of Arcturus IV.

He’s about to crack, but manages to withstand the inhuman terror by going away, in his mind, to a happier place. He is helped by the fact that, in this particular case, anything at least as titillating as Helen Thomas dragging down her panties before wrapping them around your face will do.

Garawfulho is interrupted by Agent Freckles who tells her that she needs to go something else.

“WHAT?”, Agent Garawfulho cries, knowing that this is most likely her only chance of getting within smell distance of a live, male human being.

Agent Freckles tells her that she needs to go check out the mole and find out who it is. Oh, and that there’d been complaints from about a dozen human rights organizations already regarding her brutal, unconscionable presence in the vicinity of anything with a functioning libido.

Agent Garawfulho is met by Agent Sarcasm, who wants to know what the fuck is going on.

“Just do your job”, an obviously flustered Agent Garawfulho replies.

“How the heck can I do my job with a Level 4 lockdown in progress?”

“You don’t need Level 4 clearance to sit around at your desk making sarcastic comments for the next 21 episodes.”

“No, but it would help if I could at least get the power to my computer turned back on.”

At the Evil Guys’ Lair, we find out that some guy who looks like a psychotic version of Dharma’s husband Greg (or perhaps David Byrne before he dipped his head in hydrogen peroxide, but we’ll just call him Greg) is the leader of Tony’s gang. We also find out that he’s a bit miffed that the ultimate Boss is willing to leave Tony to the tender mercies of the gummint. Not so much because of loyalty, but because he realizes that his own ugly mug isn’t likely to attract many viewers. And finally we find out that General Haku-Slashu is in the U.S., complaining that the President hasn’t yet redeployed our carrier strike force to Okinawa in spite of her having had at least 7 minutes to do so.

“Perhaps time to show white chief heap bad shit happening!”, he grumbles while fidgeting with the bone in his nose.

Il Capo hands him a handful of colored beads and he retreats to his crate for the time being.

At the FBI, SAC Fuckup is running through what we already know (if you’re a faithful watcher of “24”, you’ll know that this will happen about every five minutes for the rest of the season, for the benefit of any liberals watching) and Jack tells him that he can get Tony to talk. After the obligatory hemming and hawing, Jack rolls out the Phrase of Doom™, albeit slightly modified: “You’re running out of time!”

Any “24” aficionado will know that the TRUE Phrase of Doom™ is “there’s no TIME!”, but apparently even the dimwitted writers of “24” have figured out after 6 seasons that it has become a running joke around the water coolers of corporate U.S. by now.

Who said that miracles never happen?

Jack is let into the room.

“I watched you die in my arms. How come you’re still alive?”

Tony, unable to come up with anything sounding even remotely believable, and we don’t blame him one little bit there, says nothing.

“Alright then. You’re going to be executed, Tony, unless you help me. I can get you one of those pre-printed immunity deals we used in all of the other seasons if you help us out.”

“I know, Jack. And tell me again how that worked out for the bad guys in the last 6 seasons?”

“QUIT THROWING LOGIC AT ME, DAMMIT! Why are you DOING this?”

“Dictator Ooga-Booga wanted the device and he was willing to pay for it?”

“But. Country! Honor! Integrity!”

“Like I said, he was willing to pay for it. Say hi to Patrick Leahy during the hearings for me, will you? How is this Doing the Right Thing working out for you, Jack? At least I’m getting paid.”

Faced with this logic, Jack has no choice but to go postal on Tony’s arse, lest the viewers wake up and realize that they’re getting fucked over. Just before he manages to strangle Tony, Tony mutters a Super Sekrit Code that the old (now disbanded) CTU made up at a Christmas party. “Deep Sky.”

Jack is escorted out of the room for violating a terrorist’s human rights, but thankfully nobody thinks about taking away his cellphone. He calls his Super Sekrit Contact Number and is soon in contact with Bill, his old CTU boss. More importantly, we learn that Bill is still working with everybody’s favorite CTU character, Chloe! Yay! We’ll suffer through the fires of Hell to watch her sarcastic, geeky antics.

At the White House, Jeeves is telling the First Doormat to stop engaging in his paranoid subplot about his son’s “suicide.”

“Oh, and you’re going to keep viewers peeled to the screen with nothing but President Cankles’ Excellent African Adventure?”

“But the FBI called it a suicide, as a matter of fact they called it ‘the most deliberate, effective suicide they’d ever seen’, based on the 57 stab wounds in his back, the 23 bullet wounds and the piano cord around his neck when they found him in Ft. Marcy Park.”

“Oh yeah?”

“The evidence is all in here”, Jeeves says, handing the First Doormat a file folder, “your son was about to be investigated by the SEC about some cattle futures deal of his, and then he killed himself.”

“Why wasn’t I told about this before?”

“Oh, erm, the files weren’t found until recently. In your wife’s closet.”

Back at the White House, President Cankles is in quite a dilemma. To comply with Ooga-Booga’s demands, she has two episodes to order a withdrawal.

“If we stand fast, we’re risking the lives of millions of Americans, but if we capitulate, we’re risking the lives of a few thousand hut-dwelling Africans in a country that matters not one whit to our national security. Damn, this is an impossible choice!”

Jeeves points out that maybe, just MAYBE the lives of millions of lives among the people that she’s employed by are at least slightly more important than her ambition of being named “The Savior of Bumfuckistan, the Shithole that Nobody Gives a Fuck About”, but she’s not listening.

“Don’t you understand, Jeeves? This is my chance to throw away millions of American lives in a conflict where there is absolutely NOTHING to be gained by the United States. I’ll be a HERO to the progressive movement!”

Meanwhile, Chloe has set up a secure line through Vonage and Bill calls Jack back, telling him that Tony’s not a terrorist, he’s just a highly eccentric under cover agent. They’re all working to expose a nebulous conspiracy inside the U.S. government aiding the regime of Oogah-Boogah. Why, nobody knows, since Bumfuckistan is an utter insignificant ass of the world, but perhaps the nebulous Illuminati are getting bored.

Which all sounds just sufficiently insane for Jack to believe every word of it and to agree to mount a one-man rescue operation of Tony the Hunk. That and the fact that it’s in his contract, of course.

At the White House, the First Doormat is contacted by his dead son’s fiancee who, unsurprisingly since we desperately need a subplot at least a bit more interesting than the so-called main plot, informs him that his son’s “suicide” wasn’t that obvious and that she needs to see him. Alone.

At the FBI, SAC Fuckup is trying to crack up Tony by showing him pictures of the “handiwork” of the people he’s working for.

“Look at this”, SAC Fuckup says, showing him a picture of a bundle of mangled, burned corpses of women and children.

“Oh, Waco!”, Tony says.

“Shit. Well… then how about this one?” he says, throwing down a picture of an infant with his head exploded all over the place.

“Ruby Ridge.”

“Would you shut UP already!”

Faced with utter failure, SAC Fuckup leaves the room where he’s confronted by Agent Freckles, who tells him that his methods aren’t going to work. “We need something more ‘forceful'”, she says.

“Agent Freckles, you’re not suggesting that…”

“We take away his free beverages, yes.”

“You’re CRAZY! I’ll just pretend you didn’t say this. Don’t you know that the newly elected Democrat President, Savior of All Mankind and Parter of the Red Sea just decreed that as much as frowning in the general direction of a terrorist, no matter how high the stakes, is more criminal than anything that Adolf Hitler (pbuh) ever did?”

He then tells her to get rid of Jack Bauer before his Evil Influence overpowers her and actually enables her to do something useful, which would be utterly contrary to the liberal mantra: “First, Do Nothing.”

Meanwhile, Agent Garawfulho thinks she’s found the mole, somebody who’s been hacking around the lockdown to get into the FAA’s database and, wouldn’t you know, it’s Agent Sarcasm. Unfortunately, it turns out that he has a perfectly good explanation: His wife is on one of the planes that President Cankles is willing to sacrifice for a place in history as the President who let millions of Americans die for absolutely nothing. Bummer.

This, of course, all but proves that he really IS the mole.

Agent Freckles is debriefing Jack, telling him to fill in the forms stating that whatever good he might have done was purely the result of Democrat regulations and that whatever bad consequences that might have had is purely to blame on right wing talk radio when she, much to her surprise, is rendered unconscious by Jack who grabs her gun and goes off to rescue Tony.

He enters the room with Tony, SAC Fuckup and some Red Shirt and liberates Tony, but not before delivering a highly satisfying blow to SAC Fuckup’s receding Democrat chin. Just because. No complaints here.

Then it’s off to the races, fortunately with everybody’s favorite geek, Chloe, in control of all of the internal video cameras. It’s kind of like driving with a particularly weird version of a Garmin GPS guiding you.

Agent Garawfulho, guided by Agent Sarcasm without whom she’d have no idea, realizes that somebody’s hacking into their security system. She promptly puts up a firewall against Chloe by using the ingenious trick of pulling the power plug out of the wall, to which Chloe replies: “dang, batteries again, is it?”

Jack, meanwhile, decides to go to Plan B, which is “get the fuck out anyway, making everybody wonder why the heck we needed all of that techy gadgetry in the first place.”

Backed by Plan C, which is “if the show’s main protagonist is captured in episode 3, our ratings for the rest of the season might actually get lower than Keith Olbermann’s.”

Do they escape? Who the fuck are you kidding? Of course they do. Aided by the fact that the FBI has not a single helicopter available to follow their getaway vehicle. Which isn’t really all that unrealistic. Helicopters were banned immediately after President Cankle’s inauguration because of the threat their CO2 output posed to polar bears.

No, we’re not kidding.

Tick… Tock…

3 comments

  1. 1
    madtom says:

    Danger ,Will Robinson!

  2. 2
    sig94 says:

    Misha, I never watched “24” until you started your weekly summaries. Now I don’t miss an episode so I can laugh my ass off reading your take on the weekly shenanigans of America’s favorite intelligence operative, Jack Splat.

    Then it’s off to the races, fortunately with everybody’s favorite geek, Chloe, in control of all of the internal video cameras. It’s kind of like driving with a particularly weird version of a Garmin GPS guiding you.

    Classic. :em99:

    Jack Splat would take no crap
    As he pulled Tony’s nuts from the fire.
    With an geeky Garmin in his ear
    He earned SAC Fuckup’s ire…

  3. 3
    Cheryl says:

    At the FBI, Tony isn’t saying anything. Until they bring out the most terrifying, nerve-shattering, libido-crushing, insanity-inducing terror weapon known to man: Janeane Garawfulho grabbing his shirt and lifting it up while she licks her lips in what we suppose is considered “a seductive manner” among the three-headed swamp creatures of Arcturus IV.

    At least Garawfulho warned poor Tony that she was going to lift his shirt….then she touched his man-breasts with her icy hands. Eeeeyewww! The thought of Helen Thomas’ rancid bloomers on his head must’ve been an improvement. :em38:

    This is General Haku-Slashu, who killed 300,000 of his own countrymen”, he adds for dramatic effect, not once bothering to explain how one guy could possibly off that many people.

    Er, not to quibble, my liege, but did not Soddom Hussein [no relation to Teh One] accomplish the very same? Of course, he had his two sons, Udder and Oofus, to assist.

    Geez, Chloe and Bill were a sight for sore eyes in this boredom fest. :em69: :em04:

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